The Mime Order Read Free

crossed my vision. I raised my fingers to my temple. The amaranth Warden had given me had healed most of the damage to my dreamscape, but a faint sense of malaise hung around my head, and from time to time my vision faltered.
    “We need to get moving,” I said, watching the others climb on to the platform.
    There were two exits: a large elevator, big enough to accommodate several stretchers at a time, and a heavy metal door marked FIRE EXIT. Nick opened it.
    “Looks like we’re taking the stairs,” he said. “Anyone know the layout of the Tower complex?”
    The only landmark I knew was White Tower, the keep and heart of the prison complex, run by an elite security force called the Guard Extraordinary. In the syndicate we called them Ravens: cruel, black-clad Vigiles with a limitless number of torture methods.
    “I do.” Nell raised her hand. “Some of it.”
    “What’s your name?” Nick said.
    “It’s 9. I mean, Nell.” She resembled my friend Liss enough to have fooled the Overseer with a mask and costume—curling black hair, the same sylphlike build—but her face was made of harder lines. Her skin had a deep olive tone, and where Liss’s eyes had been small and very dark, Nell’s were a limpid aqua.
    Nick’s voice softened. “Tell us what you know.”
    “It was ten years ago. They might have changed it.”
    “Anything’s better than nothing.”
    “They didn’t use flux on a few of us,” she said. “I was pretending to be unconscious. If those stairs come up near the elevator doors, I think we’re going to be standing right behind the Traitors’ Gate, but it’ll be locked.”
    “I can deal with locks.” Nadine held up a leather pouch of picks. “And Ravens, if they want a fight.”
    “Don’t get cocky. We’re not fighting.” Nick looked up at the low ceiling. “How many of us are there, Paige?”
    “Twenty-eight,” I said.
    “Let’s move in small groups. We can go up first with Nell. Binder, Diamond, can you keep an eye on—?”
    “I hope very much,” Jaxon said, “that you are not presuming to give me orders, Red Vision.”
    In the blur of getting off the train and finding the platform, I’d scarcely noticed him. He was standing in the shadows, his hand on his cane, straight and bright as a newly lit candle.
    After a moment, Nick flexed his jaw. “I was asking for your help,” he said.
    “I will stay here until you clear a path.” Jaxon sniffed. “You can dirty
your
hands plucking feathers off the Ravens.”
    I took Nick by the arm. “Of course we can,” he muttered, not quite loudly enough for Jaxon to hear.
    “I’ll watch them,” Zeke said. He hadn’t spoken for the whole train journey. One of his hands was clamped over his shoulder, the other wrapped into a white-knuckled fist.
    Nick swallowed and beckoned to Nell. “Lead the way.”
    Leaving the prisoners, the three of us followed Nell up a flight of steep, winding steps. She was quick as a bird; I found myself struggling to keep up. Every muscle in my legs was burning. Our footfalls were too loud, echoing above and below us. Behind me, Nick’s boot caught on a step. Nadine grabbed his elbow.
    At the top, Nell slowed down and cracked open another door. The distant howl of civil defense sirens came rushing into the passageway. If they knew we were missing, it was only a matter of time until they worked out where we were.
    “All clear,” Nell whispered.
    I took my hunting knife from my backpack. Using guns would draw out every Raven in the keep. Behind me, Nick took out a small gray handset and punched a few keys.
    “Come on, Eliza,” he muttered. “
Jävla telefon
. . .”
    I glanced at him. “Send her an image.”
    “I have. We need to know how long she’ll be.”
    As Nell had predicted, the entrance to the stairwell was opposite the deactivated elevator. To the right was a wall of enormous bricks, sealed with mortar, and to the left, built under a sweeping stone archway, was Traitors’ Gate: a solemn