The Gender Game 5 (The Gender Fall)(9)

He was almost done when I reached the car, and he turned to look at me. “Do you want me to take her so you can drive?” I shook my head, subconsciously pressing Violet tighter to my chest. Not that I didn’t trust Owen—I just wouldn’t let her out of my arms until we were safe. He nodded, understanding, and opened the passenger door for me.

He moved out of my way as I carefully climbed into the vehicle, trying not to jostle Violet more than necessary. Once I had arranged her in my lap and moved her legs clear of the door, I gave Owen a hurried nod, and he closed the door quickly.

The young man raced around the front of the vehicle and got into the driver’s seat. I waited, summoning my dwindling patience, as his movements seemed to take forever. He buckled up and slid the key into the ignition, twisting it.

The car whined and then fell silent. Owen looked at me, concern heavy on his face, and tried again. The whine returned, followed by a few sharp shudders, and then the noise stilled again. The concern on Owen’s face intensified as he tried the keys once more.

My patience evaporating, I leaned over and violently slammed my fist down on the dashboard. With a roar, the car came to life. Owen arched an eyebrow, a bemused expression on his face, but I ignored it, turning back to Violet. Her breathing was shallow and erratic, and she stirred fitfully, as if caught in a bad dream.

She murmured Tim’s name, and I frowned, a fresh wave of guilt hitting me. Her brother was so important to her—I had no idea how to tell her what had happened to him.

Owen put the car in gear and slowly pressed the accelerator, picking his way carefully across the forest floor, dodging trees and stumps, the wheels dragging in deep drifts of leaves. I kept my eyes sharp, looking for any sign of the Matrian patrol.

“Where is the rendezvous?” I asked, clutching Violet tighter as the tire bumped over something protruding out of the ground.

“A few miles to the southeast,” he replied, cutting the wheel to skirt around an impassible thicket of young trees. “It was the closest we could get. It’s too risky to be flying the heloship for long distances right now—and we’re running low on fuel. The area around the palace has been absolute pandemonium, according to Ms. Dale.”

I nodded. In the pre-dawn dark, when we’d decided most of our enemies would be asleep, Owen had taken the risk of contacting our allies on the handheld we’d brought, something we’d feared to do directly after the attack, as the airwaves around the castle would certainly be more heavily monitored. Since then, he had been more involved with receiving updates on our handheld from Ms. Dale and Thomas, as I had refused to leave Violet’s side any more than necessary. It may have already been fourteen hours since we’d left the palace, but it made sense that the immediate area was too risky for the heloship. I just itched with impatience, wishing there was a way we could get Amber to us sooner.

“Did anything come through on the ticker?” I asked after a moment.

Owen shook his head, keeping his eyes on the path ahead. “Thomas thinks they’re still down. Possibly even permanently. With the damage to the palace…”

He trailed off, taking a quick look at Violet. I followed his gaze, understanding the look on his face. Violet had torn the place apart. According to Thomas, who had managed to get back to our base with Amber and Jay, he and Violet had crafted the plan together. Three bombs, three explosions, which had gutted the palace and even caused one of the inner structures to collapse. It was a true miracle she had even survived her own bombs, given how much destruction they had wrought.

The violence of it all hadn’t been lost on me. Violet had gone to great lengths to secure her family’s freedom. I couldn’t fault her for taking action, and I admired that she hadn’t gone in there without a plan. Others would have blindly accepted the deal with Tabitha, nobly exchanging themselves for their family members.

But not Violet. She knew Tabitha. She knew what Tabitha had been capable of—we both did. Violet had experienced it firsthand when Tabitha had driven a knife through her hand in Matrus.

It felt like a lifetime ago that I had found her in Elena’s palace, strapped upright to a board, the knife jutting out of her hand and blood streaming down her palm. At the time, I hadn’t thought it could get any worse than that. Seeing her in agony, amid all the chaos and violence infecting our lives. It had been intolerable. And now…

Something chirped, and I blinked, looking over at Owen. He let go of the steering wheel to slide his hand into his pants pocket and pull out the black handheld, passing it over to me. I grabbed it awkwardly, trying not to shift Violet too much, and clicked it on.