The Madness Project (The Madness Method) (76 page)

BOOK: The Madness Project (The Madness Method)
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“Ostensibly.”

He nodded.

“And you think the rest of Brinmark will stand for this?” I
asked.

“You think they’ll stand up to defend us?  The Herald has
been feeding the hatred and suspicion for months now.  Hell, that’s been
building for a century now.  And then they played up how a mage was behind the
assassination attempt, and…a mage was behind the riot that led to the deaths of
twenty civilians and four policemen.” 

I ground my teeth. 

“And of course there’s all the old superstitions about the
Clan…” Kor went on.  “Let’s just say the public is primed to let the mages meet
whatever fate the King decides.”  

“And of course he thinks that no one will argue with him,” I
said.  “He believes he can decide who is human and who isn’t, who has the right
to live, and who doesn’t.”

“So someone has to argue with him.  That has to be you,
Tarik.  You’ve got to be our voice.”

“What about you?” I asked.  “What will you do?”

“I’m going to try to warn as many of the mages as I can
find.”

I nodded.  “I think Kantian sold the Clan out to the
scientists,” I said.  “He’s apparently been talking to Dr. Kippler.  Kippler
will have passed on the information to Trabin, and if I know Trabin at all,
he’ll think that this is all the justification he needs to take action.  He got
what he wanted.  He has no reason to wait for my report, now.”  I sighed and
dragged my hands over my head.  “And I know Kantian will be expecting the mages
to fight against the Ministry, and so suddenly find themselves allied with
him.  ”

“If they try to fight, it will be a bloodbath,” Kor said. 
“Kantian’s a fool.  He thinks he played a smart card, but he doesn’t even know
what game he’s playing.”

I nodded.  “I heard of a weapons shipment.  Some kind of new
invention.  I told Kantian it was coming in on a train, because he wanted
information.  Hopefully the Meats have unloaded some crates of dangerous fruit
by now.” 

Kor studied me quietly.  “It might have been better if the
Meats had gotten the weapons.  They use Dr. Alokin’s electromagnetism theories
and the concept of that lightning device.  Not sure how exactly it works, but
it seems to target mages specifically.  I don’t think they would be much use to
Kantian unless Kantian wanted to turn on the mages himself.”

“Do they kill us?” I asked, feeling sick. 

Kor was right—if they were lethal to mages, I’d rather see
them in Kantian’s hands than the Science Ministry’s.  I thought I’d done
something clever, but maybe I’d only made a mess of everything again.

“Don’t think so,” he said.  “Paralyzes them at least. 
Renders their magic useless for a time.”

I let out my breath in a hiss.  “Listen, Kor.  Will you look
for Hayli?  Rivano turned her out onto the streets just a few hours ago.  I
don’t know where she might be, but…I’m worried about her.”

“Hayli?  Why does that name sound familiar?”

“She’s the shape-shifter.  The girl I told you about…the one
I met on the palace grounds as Tarik.”

“Right.”  He studied me closely, his hand firm on my arm. 
“What else aren’t you telling me?”

I looked away.  “She has the same mark you do.  Clockwork on
her spine.  Rivano saw it.”

His breath hissed out.  “Damn.  What were they trying to do
with her?”

“God knows.  What were they doing with you?” I asked,
turning back to stare him in the eye.

He released me abruptly and swung away, shoulders hunched. 
“Don’t ask me.  You don’t want to know.”

“But you can remember?”

“They’ve only just started experimenting with the amnesic
techniques.  They’ve been able to key the most recent specimens to act without remembering
what they do.  Not me.  God.”  He bowed his head.  “I see everything that I
do.  I just can’t stop it.  And all I can do is remember…”  His head flinched
back so he could catch my eye.  I swallowed, recognizing the despair in his
eyes.  “I would have killed myself long ago if it hadn’t been for her.”

Her? 

“My mother?” I murmured.  “They know about her?”

“Dr. Kippler does.  He didn’t threaten to harm her, not in
so many words.  Just…whisper a word in the right ear, you know.”

“How the devil does Dr. Kippler know about her?” I gasped,
horror prickling through me.

Kor didn’t answer.  But I watched the blood drain from his
cheeks, and the darkness fill his eyes, and for a moment I imagined my heart
had forgotten how to beat.

“You told him?”

“It’s amazing what a person will say after days of being
drugged, starved…electrocuted,” he said, voice strained.  “God.  I’ll never
forgive myself for that.”

All the hatred and fury that had surged up in my veins sank
away, and I let out all my breath in one long sigh.  I reached out and gripped
his arm, but couldn’t find any words to console him.  My thoughts kept turning
back to what he’d said about his job for the Ministry, and at almost the same
time, I remembered what he’d told me so long ago, that I would never want his
gift.

“Kor.  What do they make you do?”

He turned away, slamming the side of his fist against the wall
so hard I winced. 

“It didn’t always work, you know,” he said.  “The
psychological manipulation.  The hypnosis.  Implanting suggestions, key
phrases, obedience triggers.  Sometimes…sometimes it just broke the specimens.”

“Specimens?  You mean the mages?”

He nodded.  “Drove them mad.  Not just mad, but dangerous
mad.  You ever seen what happens to a Flint who’s gone crazy?”

“No,” I said, but thought,
I’ve come close enough to it
myself to imagine, though.

And suddenly, everything fell into place.  I stared at Kor,
feeling sick, my mind desperately trying to throw up barriers to block the
realization.  All I could see was that body…that body so shredded, so
disfigured I couldn’t make out a single feature.  My stomach churned, and I
stared at Kor’s hands.

“You were the one?”  I could barely hear my own voice. 
“You’re the one who killed all those mages?”

His face creased with pain.  “I had to.  I watched my hands…
I couldn’t control them.”  His eyes blazed with sudden fury.  “But I swear to
you, when this war comes, I will find Dr. Kippler myself and tear his head
off.”

I winced.  I knew I should feel revulsion and hatred and
contempt, but I couldn’t.  I only felt pity, because I thought, somehow, I
understood what he had suffered.  Still…

“That means…you knew all along!  You knew that Rivano and
the Clan weren’t behind the murders, and yet you let me risk my life out here
to try to solve the mystery?  And…you put a
body
right on top of the
Hole, where the coppers might have found it?”

“Don’t be a vutting idiot, Tarik,” he snapped.  “I never
disposed of any bodies.  I don’t how that one ended up there.  But look, don’t
you get it?  It was never about the murders.  I’ve
always
been the
bloody mole.  I was the one who planted those suggestions in the king’s ear. 
He was desperate for a reason to go after the mages, and I…I had my own
reasons.  I made him believe you’d be the only one who could learn the truth. 
See?  It was only ever about getting you to Rivano.”

“Why didn’t you just tell me to begin with?” I asked.  “Why
all the games, all the secrets?”

“Would you have hesitated before telling Trabin what I was
doing, if I’d told you at the beginning?” 

I considered that barely a moment before I shook my head. 
Kor sighed and turned his hat over in his hands.  

“War is coming,” Kor said.  “The King is preparing a full-scale
extermination of our kind, but Istia and Tulay will never stand for that.”  He
took a step away from me, then another.  “Who will you stand for?”

And then he was gone.  I watched him fade into the shadows,
my mind reeling, numb with confusion and too many emotions and realizations
knotted together.  He’d left a bag with my clothes next to the wall, but for
some time I could only stand and stare down the street.

Every single person I knew had a use for me.  Trabin.  Kor. 
Kantian.  Rivano.  Dr. Kippler.  Hell, every last low-life street thug had
tried to manipulate me at one time or another.  And I’d gone along with every
single one of them.

I was so tired of being everyone’s bloody pawn.

The rogue in me urged me to leave the bag of clothes, to
turn and walk away, to climb on a train heading nowhere and leave everyone and
all this chaos behind.  I had nothing in the Court and I had nothing in the
Clan. 

Only I knew it was a lie.  But no matter which way I turned,
I would end in betraying someone I loved.  If I complied with Trabin and
accepted the crown and the safety he was offering, I would abandon Hayli and
the lads, and everyone else I cared about on the streets, to be herded off like
cattle for the slaughter—the mages for being what they were, the Hole rats for
sheltering them.  But if I stood up for the mages, I would forsake everything
and everyone I’d ever known, and expose my mother—and myself—to execution for
treason.

God.  When did it become so complicated?

I would try.  I would try once to get Trabin to hear
reason.  But then I would have to decide.

 

 

Chapter 10 — Tarik

 

The cold dawn had just broken when I reached the palace,
wearing Tarik’s clothes and Tarik’s face, and all of Shade’s anger.  One of the
night footmen opened the door for me, looking a bit pale and drawn as he took
my coat.

“Is my father awake yet?” I asked.

“I believe so,” he said, bowing, his gaze darting to the
side.  Stars, why was the man so nervous?  “He had some Ministers come early
for some sort of special council, I believe.”

“In the Chamber?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

I nodded my thanks and turned to head into the palace, only
to find Zagger waiting there for me at the end of the foyer.

“Zagger, thank the stars,” I said.  “I need to talk to you.”

He didn’t move.  I’d never seen him so haggard.  He just
stood there under the lamplight, watching me quietly, mouth drawn in a thin
line.

“What’s the matter with you?” I asked, walking toward him. 
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m so sorry, Your Highness,” he said.

Behind me, I heard the stomp of boots on marble.

“Sorry for what?”

I flicked a glance over my shoulder.  Three palace guards
stood behind me, rifles in their hands.  Another pushed his way through the
knot of them, stalking straight for me.

“What the hell is going on?” I cried.  “Stand down, all of
you.  What’s the meaning of this?”  I jerked back around to face Zagger. 
“Zag?”

“By order of His Majesty the King,” Zagger said, voice low,
“you’re under arrest for crimes against the Crown.”

The world ground to a halt.  Everything muted, everything
blurred.  Vaguely I felt the guards grab my arms, dragging them behind me,
locking my wrists in steel.  One of them spoke in my ear, commanding me to
follow him, but his voice sounded so far away, and I couldn’t make myself
comprehend.  I tried to wrench free but they wrestled me back.

“Come on, Your Highness,” the guard said.  “Don’t make this
more difficult for me than it is.”

I didn’t listen to him.  Didn’t move until the guards
grabbed me by the shoulders, muscling me away.  My feet slid on the marble and
I fought, fought so hard, while Zagger watched, unmoving and unmoved.


Zagger!
” I shouted.  “Zagger, you bastard!  What’ve
you done?”

“What I had to,” he said, and turned away.

I let them lead me, then.  I didn’t care where we were
going.  What did it matter?  A guards’ coach waited outside at the base of the
palace steps, and as soon as they had forced me into the rear seat, it set off
toward the palace prison.  It had been there all along, waiting for me.  The
guards had been waiting for me.  Zagger…had been waiting.

Waiting to betray me.

Zagger
.

I pressed my knuckles against my mouth, fighting the
nausea.  Oh, God.  How was I supposed to plead with Trabin for the mages from
inside a prison cell?  Maybe that was the point.  Maybe Trabin knew I would try
to oppose him.

He should have just killed me.

I leaned my head on the window, listening to the rattle of
wheels and the sharp clap of the horses’ hooves.  The guard across from me
wouldn’t look at me.  He sat slouched a bit forward, his rifle between his
knees and an embarrassed kind of frown on his face.  I wondered what he thought
of it all.  I wondered what he thought of me.

After an uncomfortably silent ride of about ten minutes, the
prison crept into view.  It was a dreary grey fortress of a building tucked far
out of sight of the palace visitors.  My heart sank.  I’d half expected them to
take me down to the police headquarters.  The prison was a bit more permanent,
a bit more serious—people didn’t get sent to the prison if anyone expected them
to leave again soon. 

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