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“Remnants,” Dante says, helping me to my feet.
Most of the other bodies scattered across the grounds are Kincaid’s men and a few servants I recognize from mealtimes. My heart leaps into my throat when I spot the corpse of a blond woman, still wearing the face from the play Kincaid put on a few weeks ago. Apparently the Tailors never got around to altering it back.
“It looks like we missed all the action,” Erik says, but as if to prove him wrong, a blast booms from the main house, sending showers of brick and tile ricocheting in our direction. Erik throws me to the ground as Dante sprints toward the building.
“He’s not armed,” I cry. “He’s going to get killed.” I rush forward, but Erik grabs my arm to stop me.
“He’ll be fine. He’s got powerful skills at his disposal,” Erik says. “Let’s stick together, Ad. We don’t know what’s going on in there.”
Inside a battle is being waged on Kincaid’s ornate carpets and marbled floors. There’s too much smoke to see who is who and we’re only in the house for a few minutes when Erik pushes me into an alcove previously occupied by a statue. Before I can process what he’s doing, he’s grabbed a Remnant. A crack shatters the air and Erik momentarily loses his grip, but then his fingers sink into the Remnant’s flesh with a wet split. The man looses a shrill wail as his shredded skin opens in a torrent of crimson. But Erik doesn’t unwind him. The Remnant turns on his heel to escape, and we rush through the hallway.
“Where’s Dante?” I call to Erik.
“Doesn’t matter. We need to get you out of here,” Erik orders me.
“I’m not leaving him!”
“Ad, the Guild might be after you, but these Rems don’t have the self-control to capture someone,” Erik argues, shoving me behind him until we’re near the stairway that leads to the upstairs guest rooms. But instead of directing me up, Erik reaches out to press a carved face in the woodwork. A panel swings open like the one Deniel pushed me through when he attacked me. I stare at Erik in wonder.
“How—” I start.
“I figured it might come in handy to explore,” Erik shouts over the clamor of gunfire in an adjacent room. “I’m a bad houseguest. I snooped. There’re hidden passages all over this place.”
“Where do they go?” I ask, unwilling to enter the dark passage.
“It doesn’t matter.” Erik pulls me into it, and before I can respond, the panel swings closed behind us. The insulation muffles the sounds of battle and I grope along the walls, wondering what terrors lie hidden in the dark. Erik’s hand closes over mine and he guides me.
Then Erik drops my hand, and suddenly the wall shifts, swinging to reveal another passage. I catch myself against the frame, which is a good thing because behind me a well-lit set of stairs curves down, spiraling toward an unknown destination.
“Sorry,” Erik says, reaching out to steady me. “I’ll go first.”
“I’m not helpless, you know.”
“Never said you were. I just know where the stairs go,” he says.
The stairs empty into the basement of the estate, and I recognize the passage leading to the cell block. My mother is there, and regardless of everything that’s transpired between us since I found her on Earth, my feet fly toward her cell. Erik follows. The familiar buzz of the electrified bars is absent.
“The security system is off,” I whisper. I turn to gauge his thoughts and notice he’s holding his left arm.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he says, shifting away from me.
I turn to face him and stare at the blood seeping through his sleeve. “You’re bleeding!”
“That happens when you get shot,” he says. He tries to smile and fails magnificently, the grin faltering into a grimace of pain.
“We need to get you medical help.”
“There are people worse off right now,” he says. “Let’s find your mom and Dante.”
I start to protest, but he pushes past me toward the cell block.
There’s no guard stationed outside. The hair prickles along my scalp like a biological alarm, but the sound of Dante’s voice turns my panic into curiosity even as ice fills my veins. I press against the wall and listen, hoping to understand why he’s here instead of fighting with the rest of Kincaid’s men.
“Meria, I can’t change what they did to you,” he says.
“Don’t pretend to care, Dante. They didn’t take my memories. I know you left me. Left us.”
