Page 165 of Remnants: Disruption
“A lot of them, actually,” she says pulling a few pairs of clothing out of a drawer. “The technology we use for medicine comes from them.”
“Who—” I begin, but something chirps in alarm near the bed.
Cass grunts in annoyance before grabbing a device off the bedside table. Her orange eyes flit back and forth as she reads. Her face falls with each line. Like she’s actively refitting her entire personality to fit Bloody Mary. Not Cassandra Alta.
“We are needed back at the Citadel,” she says, voice hoarse with something I can’t identify. “Gareth was working with DAEMON to draw up plans for the Citadel. Which means—”
“Oh fuck,” I grunt, remembering what Varun had ‘said.’
“What?” she asks, tossing me the extra clothes.
“Varun said there was going to be an attack. Well, I got him to nod when I asked. He 'nodded' that we still have time, though.”
Cass grunts and stands before me as I slip on the joggers.
“I want to show you everything,” she says quickly, chewing on her lip. “We will have time.”
“I believe you,” I say and she gives me a relieved grin before stepping past.
“How do we—” I turn to follow and see her drawing out a square of red in the air.
Like Darkrend’s portals.
“You first,” she says as the square completes.
It pops like built up air pressure and I see the Cradle’s office.
“I—” I pause, not what to say. Not sure if this is the right time.
Not sure if she feels the same.
But as fast as it is, as many times as I’ve been unsure of everything in the last few weeks, this feels right. It finally feels right. Like that final barrier is gone.
“Later,” she says, giving me a soft look that says she might already know.
I step through and stumble a little as both gravity and a difference in elevation strike me.
“That’s fucking weird,” I mumble moving to the door when I hear Cass’ feet hit the stone beside me.
We walk into what has to be a war council. The entire room is filled with archons with all but two of the councilors at their respective spots.
“Take one of the two open seats,” she says, nodding to the newly vacated chairs.
I give her a raised eyebrow, but her no-nonsense face silences my protests.
The two seats weren’t even used by the Varun and Gareth long enough for them to bear any of their personality.
I sit in Loki’s because, honestly, that guy was a twat, and this feels right.
“Archons,” the voice of an empress rolls through the room. “Two of our own were found to have been in league with DAEMON and Darkrend.”
There’s a hushed whisper through the archons; they don’t look at her though.
They’re looking at me.
“Yes,” Cass says, turning to face me. “Four of our council members have been killed in as many weeks.”
It’s hard to rectify the gorgeous, vulnerable woman I know with the one who studies me now with veneration and a malicious glee.
