“I’ve seen you cry before,” he reminds me.

I open them and let the angry tears roll out. They are tears of accusation and hatred, but I’m not entirely sure they’re meant for Cormac.

I can’t escape knowing that this is my fault, but that’s not a new feeling and I’ve learned one thing.

It doesn’t matter.

Mistakes ebb and flow like the ocean and if you linger in them, the tide will wash you out to drown.

TWENTY-SIX

CORMAC IS COVERED IN DUST AND HE brushes it off as though it’s nothing, dropping the time strand on the floor at his feet. I reach forward and pick it up, cradling it in my palm.

“Keep it,” he says.

I drop the strand and swipe at Cormac, but he sidesteps me and I crash to the ground.

“I want you to think about what you’re doing,” he says.

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” I say, scrambling to my feet and preparing to launch myself at him again.

“You need me,” Cormac says, “and you couldn’t defeat me if you tried. Are you willing to let innocent people die because you were impatient?”

I push my arms down to my sides and stare at him. My tears haven’t abated, and I don’t care.

“Are you going to give me the pass code?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Absolutely not.”

“You know,” I say in a low voice.

“Know what?” Cormac asks. I lean across his desk and press my hands hard against the smooth wood, waiting for my moment to strike as he pours a drink.

“That both worlds are in danger. What I don’t know is how you think Arras will survive without Earth. Albert calculates—”

“Have you ever considered that those are the ravings of a decrepit man?”

“Look who’s calling someone else decrepit,” I mutter.

Cormac ignores me, but he sets down his glass with unusual force. “What would you do? Repopulate Earth? That is madness. Only one can survive—Earth or Arras. Which would you choose, Adelice? A world where everyone has what they need or a dying planet full of criminals and deviants?”

“The people of Arras don’t have everything they need,” I say.

“And what are they lacking?” His lips smack on the final word.

“Freedom.” I hold my gaze steady with his. He knows this and he can’t deny it’s something Arras doesn’t have and will never have under the control of the Guild.

“That’s a want, my dear,” Cormac says without missing a beat. “No one needs freedom.”

I guess we’ll have to disagree on that.

“We could kill each other,” Cormac says. “Right here and now and then what would come of Arras? Of Earth?”

“I’m not sure what happens if we both live through this,” I say softly. I don’t know if either of us deserves to walk out of here. And yet if we don’t, what becomes of everyone else? The singularity Albert predicted could be another form of control, misinformation spread by Cormac to distract us from his plans and lure me here. But did Albert believe it? Because I’m certain he wouldn’t lie to Loricel and me.

“It’s not too late. We can still join together,” he suggests.

“You just killed my father,” I remind him. “Our relationship is built on body bag after body bag, Cormac. I can’t think of anything worse than joining with you. Plus, you already admitted you’ve wanted to kill me this whole time.”

“There is that.” Nothing flickers in his cold black eyes. He’s not amused. He’s not calculating. His eyes are the color of the dark of night when the world lies in wait.

He’s plotting.

“Then neither of us walks out of here?”

As though he’s giving me a choice.

There are no choices with Cormac, only carefully laid traps. This is something I know too well.

“Arras won’t survive, but if we initiate Protocol Three then we can still save the people,” I argue with him. “As long as I’ve known you, you’ve always acted out of concern for the citizens, even if your methods were a bit warped for my taste.” I’m putting this mildly, hoping to lure him in with honeyed promises and sweet words.

He laughs at me, clearly seeing through my act. “Don’t try to placate me, Adelice. I’ve spent my career twisting words to get what I want. There will be no compromise on Protocol Three.”

I look to my useless digifile. There’s no one to call. Every channel leads to dead air.

“I see you’re still trying to set things right. You can stop,” Cormac says. “You’ve played your part remarkably well, Adelice.”

I don’t feel the ball of burning rage that usually builds in my chest when Cormac mocks me. No clever retorts float to mind. In their wake is something much more chilling: a dreadful emptiness that yawns inside me and makes me feel like giving up. How can you save the world from men like Cormac? There are too many to ever defeat them all.

Too many of them to even make it a possibility.

Cormac watches me with interest and a smile plays at his lips.

“What now?” I ask him.

“I find your reaction rather dull,” he says. “I expected a fight. I find it tasteless to unwind someone who’s sitting around doing nothing. If you aren’t a threat, then what’s the point?”

“If what you’re telling me is true, then I’ve never been a threat to you.”