Page 155 of The Amber Sunburst

“Well, I happen to remember the little deal we made. I held my end, I expect you to hold yours.”

Crap, she’d completely forgotten about that. Or at least, she’d put it as far out of her mind as possible to focus on the plan and leaving and Zeno. One second faster and she’d be gone—not dealing with this obnoxious man-child.

Kleitos holds up his ring. “This is my target. You’re going to help me find her.”

“Or else?” Zeno demands.

Kleitos reaches into his pocket and pulls out a handgun. Her taser and Zeno’s spear aren’t much against that.

“Or else I shoot you both and make sure that little runt of yours never sees the light of day again,” he says casually.

“I can’t help you,” Eudoxia seethes, “not right now.”

“If not now, then when? This is the deal we made, Xos.”

She looks at Zeno and sees on his face exactly what she’s thinking: We don’t have time for this.

“No,” she responds.

Kleitos smiles and lifts his gun. “Then I’ll take pleasure in watching you fall.”

48

LAZARUS

Lazarus was, somehow, able to make it to the ‘loser’s exit’ with no problems.

And now comes the easy part: the losing.

He chose the taser because he figured the most believable way for someone to knock themselves out would be to misfire their weapon, and he would rather misfire with a taser than a gun.

It wasn’t until halfway through his walk over that he realized how embarrassing it would be to shock himself with his own taser. Before Apollonia learns of his defection, she’ll just think he’s incredibly incompetent.

He sighs. Here he stands, so close to escape and, true to form, too anxious to pull the trigger. The smooth edges of his weapon are threatening in their innocence. The agate ring in his pocket is a million times heavier than it has any right to be.

He can’t delay any longer. He turns the taser on himself, playing it up for the broadcast, looking at it as if he can’t figure out how it works. But right before he pretends to fall, he sees movement just to his left.

He spins around and it only takes him an instant to realize he’s made a mistake.

Theokleia stands in the mouth of the corridor, so close to him that he can’t believe he didn’t notice her sooner.

Her jaw is set, her fist closed so the metal on her knuckles shows.

“Theokleia,” he says, backing up.

He knows what she’s here for.

“I’m sorry, Lazarus. I really am.”

He could run, but that would take him away from where he needs to be. What if the Priestesses take too long to retrieve him if he’s far from the exit?

He takes another tiny step. “We’re in the same cohort. I thought the plan was to make it to the end together, then fight for the top spot.”

“Not anymore,” she says. “That was before the advantage was announced. I’ve already seen two cohort members go down.”

Once again, he is stunned by his own naiveté. He really thought that honor would bring them through. Does a win even count without it?

Apparently the answer is: yes, it does.