“And how the hell you expect to do that?” Holiday asks. “We don’t have weapons anymore. And they don’t exactly look tickled Pink to see us. They’re probably going to eat us.”
“These ones aren’t cannibals,” Mustang says.
“You’re willing to bet your leg on that, missy?”
“Alia is the key,” I say. “We can still convince her. It will be difficult without Ragnar, but that’s the only way. Convince her that he died trying to bring their people the truth.”
“Didn’t you hear him? He said words wouldn’t work.”
“They still can.”
“Darrow, give yourself a moment,” Mustang says.
“A moment? My people are dying in orbit. Sevro is at war, and he’s depending on us to bring him an army. We don’t have the luxury of taking a bloodydamn moment.”
“Darrow…” Mustang tries to interrupt. I keep going, methodically sorting through the options, how we must hunt down Aja, rejoin with the Sons. She puts a hand on my arm. “Darrow. Stop.” I falter. Losing track of where I was, slipping away from the comfort of logic and falling straight into the emotion of it all. Ragnar’s blood is under my nails. All he wanted was to come home to his people and lead them out of darkness like he saw me doing with mine. I robbed him of that choice by leading the attack on Aja. I don’t cry. There isn’t time for it, but I sit there with my head in my hands. Mustang touches my shoulder.
“He smiled in the end,” she says softly. “Do you know why? Because he knew what he was doing was right. He was fighting for love. You’ve made a family of your friends. You always have. It made Ragnar a better man to know you. So you didn’t get him killed. You helped him live. But you have to live now.” She sits next to me. “I know you want to believe the best in people. But think how long it took for you to get through to Ragnar. To win over Tactus or me. What can you do in a day? A week? This place…it’s not our world. They don’t care about our rules or our morality. We will die here if we do not escape.”
“You don’t think Alia will listen.”
“Why would she? Obsidians only value strength. And where is ours? Ragnar even thought he would have to kill his mother. She won’t listen. Do you know the word for surrender in Nagal?
When I looked up at my father as a boy, I thought being a man was having control. Being the master and commander of your own destiny. How could any boy know that freedom is lost the moment you become a man. Things start to count. To press in. Constricting slowly, inevitably, creating a cage of inconveniences and duties and deadlines and failed plans and lost friends. I’m tired of people doubting. Of people choosing to believe they know what is possible because of what has happened before.
Holiday grunts. “Escaping won’t be that easy.”
“Step one,” Mustang says as she slips free of her manacles. She used a little shard of bone to pick the lock.
“Where’d you learn that?” Holiday asks.
“You think the Institute was my first school?” she asks. “Your turn.” She reaches for my manacles. “As I see it, we can rush them when they open the…what’s wrong?”
I’ve pulled my hands back from her. “I’m not leaving.”
“Darrow…”
“Ragnar was my friend. I told him I would help his people. I will not run to save myself. I will not let him die in vain. The only way out is through.”
“The Obsidians…”
“Are needed,” I say. “Without them, I can’t fight Gold Legions. Not even with your help.”
“All right,” Mustang says, not belaboring the point. “Then how do you intend to change Alia’s mind?”
“I think I’ll need your help with that.”
—
Hours later, we are guided to the center a cavernous throne room built for giants. It’s lit by seal oil lamps that belch out black smoke along the walls. The iron doors slam shut behind us, and we’re left alone before a throne, upon which sits the largest human being I’ve ever seen. She watches us from the far side of the room, more statue than woman. We approach awkwardly in our chains. Boots over the slick black floor till we come before Alia Snowsparrow, Queen of the Valkyrie.
Across her lap lies the body of her dead son.
