Chapter 134 The Price of a Glance
A camera can capture the world, but it takes a heart to decide which parts are worth keeping.
The cellar felt smaller now. The walls were wet with the steam from the ink. Gable stood in the center of the room. He held those black goggles like they were a crown. His men stood behind him. They looked like statues. They didn't breathe. They didn't blink.
"Step away from him, Cassia," Gable said. His voice was smooth. It was the sound of a snake sliding over silk. "The musician is broken. He is a used-up toy. But you? You are still fresh. Your eyes are worth more than all the music in the world."
I held my camera tight. The wood was warm against my chest. "You won't touch me, Gable. And you won't touch him."
"I don't need to touch you," Gable replied. He stepped closer. The goggles clicked. A red light started to glow inside them. "The Board has spent a lot of time studying your father's work. We know how the Marlowe Vision works. It isn't in the lens. It's in the optic nerve. We just need to... adjust it."
Evan tried to stand up. He was weak. His legs shook. He leaned against a wooden crate. "Leave her alone, you vulture."
Gable didn't even look at him. "The 'Replacement' speaks. How charming. But you have no voice left, Evan. The ink is gone. You are just a man now. And a man is nothing against the future."
One of the guards moved toward me. He was fast. I tried to swing my camera, but he grabbed my wrist. He was strong. His grip felt like iron.
"Let her go!" Evan shouted.
He didn't have his violin. He didn't have a flute. He just had his voice. He took a deep breath. He didn't hum. He didn't sing. He made a sound that I had never heard before. It was sharp. It was jagged. It was a scream that felt like it was made of glass.
The light in the cellar flickered. The glass jars on the shelves started to shake.
Gable laughed. "Noise? You think noise will save her? Put the goggles on her."
The guard pulled me toward Gable. I fought. I kicked. I bit. But I was being dragged closer to that red light. The goggles were cold. I could feel the metal touching my forehead.
"Look at the light, Cassia," Gable whispered. "See the world the way we want you to. No more pain. No more shadows. Just perfect, bright obedience."
"No!" I cried. I closed my eyes. I thought of the garden. I thought of the red soil. I thought of the way Evan looked when he was playing the willow whistle.
Evan made the sound again. This time, it was louder. It wasn't just noise. It was a frequency. I felt it in my teeth. I felt it in my bones.
Suddenly, the goggles in Gable's hand exploded.
Small pieces of black glass flew everywhere. Gable yelled. He dropped the goggles and clutched his hand. The red light vanished. The cellar went dark for a second.
"What did you do?" Gable hissed. He looked at his hand. It was bleeding. "What was that?"
Evan was panting. He looked at his hands. "It's the song of the ruins, Gable. It's the note that breaks the lie."
"Kill him!" Gable roared.
The guards let go of me. They moved toward Evan. They had batons. They had chains.
"Mrs. Higgins! Now!" I screamed.
The hatch above us was suddenly filled with light. Not the violet light of the Source. It was a messy, orange light.
A large, heavy bucket of fermented apple cider came crashing down the stairs. It hit the guards. Then came a shower of rocks.
"Get out of my cellar, you city-slickers!" Mrs. Higgins yelled from above. "I've got a beehive up here and I'm not afraid to use it!"
The guards were confused. They were slipping on the cider. They were covered in ash.
"Come on, Evan!" I grabbed his hand.
We scrambled up the stairs. The morning air was cold. It felt wonderful. Mrs. Higgins was standing there. She was holding a large burlap sack. It was buzzing.
"Run for the Great Oak!" she shouted. "The Board's cars are blocked by the sheep! I told the boys to let the flock loose!"
We ran. We ran through the burnt trees. We ran past the ruins of my father's house. Behind us, I could hear Gable screaming. He was angry. He was humiliated.
We reached the edge of the woods. The road was filled with white, fluffy sheep. The Board's sleek black cars were stuck. The drivers were honking their horns, but the sheep didn't care. They just stood there, chewing on the grass.
"Where do we go?" Evan asked. He was leaning on me. He was breathing hard.
"The mountains," I said. I looked at the high, blue peaks in the distance. "The Father said the Source started in the ice. If we can find the place where it began, maybe we can end it for good."
"But Gable will follow us," Evan said. "He has the technology. He has the maps."
"He doesn't have the camera," I said. I looked at the wooden box. "And he doesn't have your new voice."
We started to climb. The path was steep. The air grew thinner.
As the sun rose higher, I looked back at Willow Lane. It looked so small. It looked so fragile. I could see the black cars finally moving through the sheep. They were coming for us.
But then, I saw something else.
A small, silver bird was flying above us. It wasn't a real bird. It was a drone. A scout from the future.
The bird dipped its wings. It made a sound, a soft, digital chirp.
"Alex Kent," I whispered.
The drone dropped a small, folded piece of paper. I picked it up. It wasn't a news clipping this time. It was a photograph.
It was a photo of Evan. But we weren't in the garden. We weren't in the City. We were standing in front of a massive, white mountain. And in the photo, my eyes were closed.
Under the photo, there was one word written in my father's hand:
Sacrifice.
"Evan," I said, showing him the photo. "Look."
He looked at the photo, then at the mountains ahead. He looked at my eyes in the image.
"Why are your eyes closed, Cass?" he asked.
"I don't know," I said. "But I think Gable was right about one thing."
"What?"
"The Vision isn't in the lens. It's in the heart. And maybe... maybe I have to stop seeing to truly see."
Suddenly, the silver bird exploded.
A black arrow had pierced it. I looked toward the ridge.
A man was standing there. He wasn't wearing a suit. He wasn't wearing rags. He was wearing animal skins. He held a large, wooden bow. His face was covered in white paint.
He looked at us. He didn't speak. He just pointed toward the highest peak.
Then, he turned his head. Behind him, dozens of other men appeared. They all had the same white paint on their faces. They all held bows.
"The Guardians," Evan whispered. "The ones who protected the Source before the Board found it."
The man with the bow stepped forward. He looked at my camera. Then he looked at my eyes.
"The eye is open," the man said. His voice sounded like rocks grinding together. "But the light is stolen. You must go to the Heart of the Ice. You must return the glance."
"And if I don't?" I asked.
The man pulled another arrow from his quiver. He didn't point it at me. He pointed it at Evan's heart.
"Then the music stops," the man said. "Forever."
The Guardians have arrived, and they don't care about the Board. If the price of saving the world is Cassia's sight, will Evan let her make the trade, or is there a secret hidden in the white paint of the Guardians' faces?