Page 84 of The Puppet Master
“We need to know who’s been helping him.”
Raven pulls up beside me and meets my stride. “I know… I’ve been trying.”
“Not hard enough.”
Silence slices between us while the world around feels more chaotic than usual. A group has gathered in a circle on the grass while a man with a guitar plays and sings for the little girls holding hands and dancing in a circle. I wait to feel joy, but instead, feel nothing.
“You’re right,” my sister says, because she’s weak. They’re all weak.
Or I’m just in the worst of moods.
One of the little girls sees me and turns away sharply. I recognize her as one of Mr. Hansley’s little actresses, putting on a show for his benefit. He wanted to show that there’s joy here when he doesn’t even believe it himself.
I must be angry with the girl the same way I am the rest of the world because my eyes pinch with a glare. I stop and face Raven. “Listen to me,” I hiss, as angry with myself as I am with my sister. Or maybe I’m not angry at all. Maybe I’m just scared. “We are losingthree fourthsof our offspring to deformities and gender misalignment. The Shadow Sanctum will not survive even one more generation if we do not secure breeders, and I have tried and failed to condition them myself. I’m not going to slit a hundred more experimental captives’ throats in an effort to get the process right. Sawyer Hansley is the plan; there isno backup. If he is gone for good, oursolutionis gone for good.”
“Okay… But ishereally the answer? Or is it his methods?” She sounds skeptical, but her face looks concerned. For me.
She thinks I’m obsessed. Father thinks I’m obsessed. Thorne thinks I’m obsessed.
“I just mean…” She twirls her hand while trying to backpedal. “We’ve learned the way he does things. We’ve gotten the data you wanted. Is there any reason we need to keep himpermanently?”
I scoff, swatting hair out of my face. “Do you honestly believe we know everything? Sawyer isn’t eventrying. He’s doing just enough to keep us complacent so he can focus on robbing the Sanctum. He?—”
“Maybe we should let him.”
My face must harden because Raven drops her head, her throat contracting as she swallows.
“Forgive me, Your Grace…”
I suck in and let my hands uncurl on an exhale. “What do you mean we should let him?”
She rights herself, cupping her hands in front of her as she raises her chin. “I don’t know how to solve your Sawyer problem. If you think we should keep him, then I have no choice but to support you… But if we want to figure out how he’s getting out and identify the traitor, then we need to follow him, and thus far he’s been too good at evading us.”
My head tilts while I wait for her to go on.
“As soon as he sees what’s inside the mines, he’ll run for the exit. For once, we know where he’ll be, and if we manufacture a ceremony, we know when he’ll be there.”
My eyes draw left, brow furrowing as I run over the idea.
We set a trap…
Risky, given what we know of Sawyer. As soon as he sees what’s inside the mines, he’ll be desperate for escape—as Raven suggests—but it’s his loyalty that we require, not his fear. Itwould be hard, maybe evenimpossibleto win his true alliance after that, not just his illusion of helpfulness.
But, of course, we may never win that anyway. We may need to settle for obedience.
And he’s said it himself.
It takes pain to lure the stubborn into complacency.
Pain, I can do. But how much? Would I even knowhowto restrain myself? Would I even recognize the moment I should?
Risky. Very risky.
But… I’m all out of ideas, and Raven has a point.
If you want to find the weak spots in a hen house, you don’t question the hens. You watch the fox.
“Unless you want to wait until the purification…” Raven says. I can hear the concern in her voice. Concern for my sanity.
