Then he turned and lumbered out.
“W—wait!” Kiera gasped.
But it was too late. The metal door slammed shut with a heavy clang that echoed through the whole freezing warehouse. A second later she heard the lock engage with a solid, unmistakable click.
Then there was only the drone of the cooling units and the hanging carcasses swaying almost imperceptibly overhead.
Kiera sat there for a moment, shaking hard, her bound hands numb already from the cold. Cold, hard truths began to creep into her mind.
Nobody knew where she was–nobody.
Iyanna would think she was waiting at the sanctuary and Brux—oh God, Brux— wasn’t even on Plo’nix anymore. He was on the Monstrum Mother Ship, standing trial before the Council while she sat tied up in Higgs’ meat freezer like something waiting to be butchered.
If only her friend would call her again–but maybe she was trying to. Maybe the special industrial metal the meat locker was made of was blocking the signal of the Think-Me. Kiera had heard of such things happening–metallic signal interference it was called and it made it hard to connect with someone, especially long—distance.
Her breath came too fast.
Think. Think–she had to think. She couldn't lose herself to panic or she’d never get out of here alive.
She twisted her wrists experimentally and winced. The cords were synthetic farm line—thin but brutally strong, biting deep into her skin every time she moved. Her ankles were tied too, though with slightly more slack.
The concrete floor under her was slick with old frozen blood and so cold it burned through her jeans and her toes were already going numb in her boots. She didn’t have much time.
Kiera looked up at the hanging carcasses and had to swallow hard against another wave of nausea. She didn’t want to end up like one of them.
The canthors hung split and gutted on their hooks, their two heads lolling at awkward angles, empty eye sockets crusted with frost. Green—black blood marbled the concrete below them in frozen streaks. The metal hooks overhead creaked now and then, the sound small but awful in the endless refrigeration hum.
She was trapped here, and the worst thing was that when she remembered Higgs’ ugly words and the look on his face, a sick little voice in the back of her mind whispered that freezing to death might be the better option.
Kiera squeezed her eyes shut. No. No, she was not going to think like that. She was not going to die in this place. And most of all, she was not going to let Higgs come back and do whatever sick thing he had planned.
Her teeth were chattering so hard now she could barely feel her jaw.
“Think,” she whispered aloud into the freezing air. “Think, Kiera.”
Then she opened her eyes and started looking for a way out.
28
BRUX
Brux was led into the main courtroom of the Monstrum Mother Ship. The air inside seemed both solemn and alive. Which, of course, it was—because aboard the Monstrum Mother Ship, nothing was built in the human sense of the word. Everything was grown.
The courtroom was a vast circular chamber with high, arching walls made of living wood that had been coaxed and shaped into elegant curves. Thick vine—columns twined upward toward the ceiling, their leaves a deep glossy green and their trunks braided together in natural spirals. Blossoming wall—sconce plants gave off a steady golden light, their petals half—open and glowing from within like living lanterns.
The floor under Brux’s bare feet was smooth and springy, formed of tightly interwoven roots polished by time and use. It smelled faintly of clean earth and sap and flowers—strange for a place of judgment, but unmistakably Monstrum.
At the far end of the chamber was the judge’s bench—a raised dais grown from the same living wood, its back arching upward like the flared trunk of some great tree. Thick green vines had been braided around its sides and tiny white flowers bloomed here and there among them, giving the whole structure an almost sacred air.
And seated upon it was Commander Rarev.
Rarev looked, as always, like some impossible fusion of regal warrior and apex predator. His face was leonine, with a thick tawny mane framing it and golden eyes filled with wisdom. His shoulders were massive beneath the formal dark robe he wore. On either side of him, seated on lower living chairs grown in a half—circle, were the other members of the Council.
A Felinus Panther Monstrum sat to Rarev’s left, sleek and dark as midnight, his black fur seeming to swallow the light. Next to him was a Felinus Tiger Monstrum, broad—shouldered and striped in deep orange and black, his heavy golden eyes narrowed in stern concentration.
On Rarev’s right sat a Fox Monstrum with russet fur and a lean clever face, his pale amber eyes bright and watchful. Beside him was a Bear Monstrum–huge even by Monstrum standards–with thick dark brown fur and a blunt, serious face that looked carved from stone.
Brux’s stomach tightened. Rarev used to rule alone as the High Commander–he must have convened a council just for this–just to judge Brux.’
