“Of course.” I wrinkle my forehead, unnerved by her calm demeanor. “He sentenced you to die. You know this, right?”
She nods.
“Okay, well, Gray is on his way to find Kallister to talk some sense into him.” My anger surges again. “We’re not letting him kill you—”
“Yes,” she interrupts, “you are.”
I falter. “What?”
“You’re going to let him kill me.”
Shrugging, Adrienne edges away from the bars and walks toward the small metal table that’s screwed into the ground. I watch, agape, as she picks up a tin pitcher of water and pours some into a cup.
“Are you serious?” I burst out. “Why would we do that?”
“Because it’s what I want,” she says simply.
I can’t find the words. I stare at her, trying to comprehend what I’m seeing on her face. It’s not defeat, which is what I’d expect from someone who has clearly given up. It’s…
I think it’speace.
“What…what is this? Is this some kind of martyr bullshit? You’re going to die for your ideals so people will rise up and take over the cause?”
That makes her laugh. “Hardly. Do I look like martyr material?”
Confusion mingles with the helplessness in my throat. “Then why are you saying this?”
“Because it’s how I feel. I’m tired, Darlington.” She lifts the cup to her lips and takes a small sip. “I’m sick and fucking tired of myself.”
“Adrienne—”
“No,” she interrupts. “I know you think this is just me feeling sorryfor myself, but it’s not. The reason I’m not fighting this death sentence is because I don’t want to fight anymore.”
“So you’re giving up on the Uprising? On the entire Continent?”
She drinks her water, watching me from across the cell. Her body language is impossible to decode.
“The moment I rewired my mentor’s mind and destroyed his life, I destroyed myself as well.” A faraway note enters her voice, her gaze fixed on mine but not quite in focus. She’s seeing something that happened a long time ago.
“You were twelve,” I remind her gently. “You couldn’t have known what would happen to—what was his name? Khem?”
She gives an absent nod, setting her cup back on the table. “I broke him, and since that day I’ve tried to atone for it. I understood that other minds would need to be broken in the process, on the path to peace, but I told myself I could live with those casualties. I’m not sure I can anymore.”
Adrienne returns to the cell door, where my fingers remain curled over the bars. She covers my hands with hers. She’s cold to the touch.
“I’ve been fighting for decades, Wren. It’s time to stop. Time for someone else to take over.”
I shake my head. “You mean me? Nobody is ever going to listen to me. They listen toyou.”
She laughs, the sound weak, more of a wheeze. “If you choose to step up and offer a solution that doesn’t require killing half the Continent, I think you’d do a keen job. But nobody is asking you to lead the cause.”
I lean closer, imploring her with my eyes. “You can’t just let him kill you.”
“It’s already been done.”
She wheezes again, and that’s when I smell it on her breath.
That sickly sweet stench.
