Lucy watched as Elaine tumbled to her knees, sprawling next to Victor.
She blinked away her tears. There wasn’t time to give in to the fear or sadness spreading outward from her heart.
Another shot rang out. The back tire of the limousine burst. This getaway car wasn’t going anywhere.
“I s-see three…” Ravi forced out, struggling to drag down air. Lucy wheeled around. More Sophists. They were coming from the direction of the school.
On the other side of the parking lot lay the football field, where commencement was still proceeding without interruption.
Lucy rushed to Ravi’s side. “Can you stand?” she asked. She wrapped an arm around his waist and he leaned against her as the blood continued soaking his shirt.
“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth. But clearly he wasn’t doing well. Ravi’s shield had crumbled and a comforting warmth—like sitting by the fire on a rainy winter’s night—filled Lucy. The affection jarred with the anger that was holding her together.
Professor T pushed to his feet and wiped the trickle of blood from his temple.
“Lucinda, help Ravi behind the car,” he ordered in the tone of someone used to giving orders. “I’ll hold off the Sophists.”
“H-how?” she said. The Sophists were drawing closer by the second. Professor T motioned for her to follow him as he dashed around the back of the limo to the other side. “Let me take your weight,” she said to Ravi. His eyelids were fluttering, his complexion growing pallid. Static crackled between them. Lucy’s chaotic emotions were too much for the tourmaline pendant alone.
Ravi didn’t speak, mouth set in a grimace, as he panted and leaned further into Lucy, using all of his energy to stay upright.
As they rounded the back of the car, Professor T lifted the gun from beside the fallen Initiate and fired. He motioned for them to get down.
“We have instructions to take the girl alive!” shouted a male voice. Lucy couldn’t see exactly how close the Sophist was from where she cowered behind the barricade of the stretch limo.
Ravi’s blood seeped onto her hands. Oh God. She couldn’t lose him. She refused. Not like this. Not after all the things she’d said to him—but especially the things she hadn’t.
Lucy looked from Ravi to Professor T: her grandfather. She’d just found him. She didn’t want to lose him either.
The Sophists said they had instructions to take her alive. They didn’t say anything about Ravi or Professor T. She had no reason to think they wouldn’t kill them to get to her.
“I’m giving myself up,” she said, resolved, slackening her grip on Ravi.
“No!” Professor T made a guttural sound as he grabbed Lucy’s arm, eyes blazing. “I won’t let them take you from me again.”
Ignoring her grandfather, she propped Ravi against the limo door and began to straighten when Ravi squeezed her arm. “Wait, Lu—” he strained to whisper. “Help is … coming…”
He must be delirious. “It’s not. My mom—Elaine—said she subdued the Initiates.” Lucy shuddered, not wanting to know precisely what she’d meant.
“Look up,” he said. The effort of speaking made him groan. Look up? Definitely delirious.
“I’m coming out!” Lucy yelled to the Sophists. “Don’t shoot!”
Then she heard it. Whirring. The distinct whirring of—
A helicopter. A helicopter was heading straight for the football field!
Eyes closed, an almost-smile on his lips, Ravi said, “Go.”
“Run!” Professor T urged. “We’ll catch up.”
Frak that. Lucy had already lost one family today. “I go, you go,” she said to Ravi, using his words from prom night.
Lucy circled her arm once more around his waist and hoisted him to his feet. He hissed in pain. Professor T met her stare. “Just like Quentin,” he said, realizing she wouldn’t be dissuaded from her plan. “You two first. I’ll cover you.”
There was no more time to argue. Lucy nodded and began running, half dragging Ravi. He limped alongside her. Professor T had probably been training with the Initiates since the moon landing. He’d hold his own. He would. He had to.
Ravi’s wheezes grew more labored, like wind whistling through a cavern. Each of his strained grunts tightened her own chest.
Lucy heard the shots behind her, as well as the glass of windshields exploding, but she didn’t look back. She kept the dart gun clamped in her right hand as they reached the football field. “Just a little farther,” she whispered to Ravi.
The whirring intensified as the helicopter began its descent at the opposite end of the field from the dais on which Principal Petersen was handing out diplomas.
From the corner of her eye, Lucy spotted a hundred caps and gowns turn to gawk. Shouts of surprise rose from the graduates and their families.
How would the local news explain away a helicopter landing in the middle of graduation?
Not Lucy’s problem. She just prayed Claudia didn’t come looking for her.
Ravi lost his footing on the grass, which was soft and muddy from last night’s rainfall. He fell to his knees, bringing Lucy down with him. Dirt spattered her graduation dress.
“Please,” she murmured. “Please, get up.”
As the helicopter landed about twenty feet away, a shot bounced off the tail.
Lucy swiveled on her knees and released the trigger of the gun. A woman cried out as the dart struck her in the chest.
Professor T was on the heels of the Sophist. “Go! Go! Go!” he yelled at Lucy. Using all of her strength to raise herself to standing, she pushed Ravi up with her. Her thighs quivered.
Professor T checked that the woman Lucy had shot was unconscious, then sprinted to Lucy’s side. He slung Ravi’s other arm around his neck, and took the majority of his weight. Lucy let out a short huff of relief. They ran together toward the chopper.
The door to the main compartment slid open and a pilot with light-brown skin angled her head at Lucy from the cockpit. She took off her headphones.
“I’m Camila,” she called over the roar of the blades. “Ready to get out of here, chica?”
Frak yeah.
“Get in!” Professor T commanded Lucy. Lucy stepped onto one of the landing skids and turned around, reaching her arms for Ravi. She looped her arms through his from behind as Professor T lifted Ravi’s lower body off the ground.
Lucy pulled Ravi onto the floor of the chopper, scuttling backward, laying him flat. Professor T set Ravi’s legs down carefully and hopped in. He pulled the door closed behind him.
“Move!” he yelled at the pilot.
Camila nodded. “Vámonos,” she said as she replaced her headphones.
The helicopter lifted off the ground, and Lucy glimpsed her former classmates scattering across the football field, some running for the parking lot, others hiding behind their folding chairs. Talk about making a dramatic exit from high school.
Returning her eyes to Ravi, Lucy pressed her hands as firmly as she could against his wound. Blood continued to gush. She wished she’d been paying closer attention when Amara had treated Pedro in the back of the Freelancers’ van.
Buttons popped as Lucy tore open Ravi’s shirt. The gash lay between his ribs on the left side. He needed a doctor.
“There’s a hospital about fifteen miles from here,” she told Professor T at the top of her lungs. The noise from the rotating blades was nearly deafening.
Barely audible, Ravi said, “No hosp…” Obviously he wasn’t thinking straight.
“We’re meeting an excellent doctor at the airfield,” came Professor T’s reply.
“Airfield?” Lucy shot him a confused look.
“It won’t take the Sophists long to regroup. We can’t afford the diversion.”
“He’s losing too much blood,” she hollered, more adamant.
“Ravi’s a strong young man. He’ll make it.” Professor T smiled in a kindly way, a grandfatherly way, but it was forged from iron.
“You can’t know that! Please.” In trying to protect Lucy, Ravi had been tased by her father, and stabbed by her mother. Please don’t let him die.
“It’s what Ravi would want.” Professor T patted Lucy on the back but she couldn’t read him.
Could he be willing to trade Ravi’s life for hers? Well, she wasn’t.
“Stay with me!” Lucy hated to do this but—she slapped Ravi open-palmed across the face. His eyes shot open, then his lids trembled. “No going to sleep!” Looking to Professor T, she barked, “Do you have a pen?”
He raised his eyebrows. “A pen?”
“A pen,” she repeated, almost hysterical. “A metal one. Or anything metal.”
Professor T reached into his suit pocket. Lucy wiped her hands on her skirt, smearing it with blood, then snatched the silver fountain pen from his grasp with desperate hope.
The initials monogramed in filigree were Q.W.J. For Quentin Weston-Jones? Had this belonged to her father?
She’d ask later. “Handkerchief?” she said to Professor T instead. If anyone would carry one, she figured it would be him. He immediately produced a square of paisley from his waistcoat. Lucy wrapped it around one end of the pen, barking, “Hold him down!”
Professor T’s forehead creased in a V, but he used his weight to press Ravi firmly against the floor of the helicopter.
With a deep breath, Lucy tried to focus her erratic emotions, concentrate on the metal in her hand. She thought about all the small moments she and Ravi had shared, their jokes and mutual geekiness. An emerald glow began to emanate from her fingers. Lucy could summon her powers from positive emotions as well as fear and anger, she realized.
Control. She needed to heat the pen but avoid shocking Ravi. Hopefully it would also kill any bacteria. Exhaling, Lucy lowered the glowing silver to one end of Ravi’s knife wound. Sizzle. He twitched but Professor T kept him secure. Her grandfather’s eyes were unafraid as he nodded in approval.
Lucy scorched Ravi’s skin again. The flesh fizzed. This scar would join the many others Ravi had received from the Order of Sophia.
Her stomach churned. Even if Lucy disagreed with some of his methods, Ravi had proven himself to be a steadfast ally. Her ally. His enemies were now Lucy’s enemies—and that included the people who’d raised her. They hadn’t loved her enough to tell her the truth.
She applied the pen to the last section of the cut. Heat rose from the blackened wound but the blood, the blood … was stopping.
Professor T’s posture relaxed and Lucy’s heart skipped a beat.
“Quick thinking,” he said, panning his gaze over Ravi’s chest. “Like a true Archimedean.”
Lucy wanted to believe her grandfather and the Archimedeans were the white hats. So much. For now they were at least the lesser of two evils.
She let out a ragged breath and dropped the pen beside her. The emerald glow faded. Her right palm was singed, blistering, and she swore as pain replaced adrenaline. The handkerchief had provided meager protection.
“Just because I’m coming with you,” she told Professor T, “doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to become a card-carrying member of the Order.”
“Understood,” he said. “I will earn your trust, Lucinda. And I would expect nothing less from a Weston-Jones.”
Was that who Lucy was? In another life, maybe. She might never know who had really handed her over to the Sophists. What she did know was, she was done living up to other people’s expectations.
Until she had all the players in the world of alchemy figured out, the only side Lucy was on was her own. This was Lucy’s body, Lucy’s life, and whatever she did with it from now on would be on her terms.
“Lucinda?” Ravi choked out. His dark eyes opened, and they were beautiful. She tipped her head downward to hear him over the rumbling of the chopper, but said, “Shh. Don’t speak.”
“You healed me.”
“I just cauterized the wound.”
The shadow of a smile flitted over his lips. “My Wonder Woman.” Ravi was in no state for one of their debates, so Lucy simply returned his smile.
He shifted his gaze to Professor T, who loomed above them.
“Rufus is awaiting our arrival,” said the professor, bending down to shout in Ravi’s ear. “Camila will radio ahead, tell him to have blood prepared for a transfusion in the air—just in case.” Ravi nodded. Whoever this Rufus was, Lucy was glad an actual doctor could repair any damage she’d done with her field medicine.
Raising himself into a squat, Professor T said, “You did well, granddaughter.” Granddaughter. Lucy wasn’t sure if she’d ever get used to that. “Rufus will patch you up too,” he added, glancing at her injured hand.
“You’re hurt?” Ravi said, voice strained.
She shrugged. “Sadly, I’m not immune to burning metal.”
“We’ll be home soon,” Professor T promised, his voice raised, looking between them.
“Home?” Lucy gasped. “As in England? I don’t have a passport.”
“We’ll take care of it,” Professor T said. No doubt forging a passport was the least of the strings the Order of Archimedes could pull.
Taking a shallow breath, Ravi said, “Do me a favor?” and motioned for Lucy to lean closer.
“I just saved your life.”
“Besides saving my life.”
He beckoned her even closer, reaching for the tourmaline pendant. Professor T cleared his throat and levered himself into the copilot seat. He slipped on a pair of headphones.
Ravi’s gaze never left her face as Lucy lowered her lips until they hovered just above his. “Close enough?” she whispered, relief and exhaustion coloring her laugh.
“Not quite.”
He kissed Lucy with infinite tenderness and a burning magenta sunset exploded in her mind’s eye. Given his injured state—and the proximity of her grandfather, Lucy forced herself to show some restraint. But it wasn’t easy.
She kissed his forehead, and Ravi smiled up at her. She would deal with the fallout and all the unanswered questions tomorrow. Today both of them were safe and alive, and she planned to keep them that way.
Maybe her powers held the key to mysteries that scientists and alchemists had been seeking for centuries. Maybe not.
The only person Lucy owed any answers to was herself.
She glanced out the window and watched the town of Eaton become a speck in the distance. Eaton was her past; Lucy was flying toward her future.
And when her enemies found her again, she would be ready.