Page 141 of The Incendiary

I watched in horror as Eli withdrew a small brass tube from his back pocket, pulled a cap off one end with his teeth. He pulled out a thin metal needle roughly two to three inches in length and stabbed it into the side of Finch’s neck.

“What is that?” I rushed forward on aching legs. “What are you doing to him?”

“It’s a drug. Calm down. It just puts him to sleep,” Eli answered, while slowly easing himself off Finch’s back as the serum did its work. Finch’s body fell limp in seconds. Eli quickly retrieved the runaway horse then hoisted Finch over its back.

“How long until he wakes up?” I asked.

Eli tied Finch’s limp form to the horse in a way that if Finch tried to escape, he’d fall off and get dragged. He then mounted the white stallion and offered me his arm. “Guess we’ll find out.”

The journey back to the fortress was tense but uneventful. With Finch in tow, the trip back took us longer. Eli spent most of it preoccupied with watching our prisoner, who remained tied up and under the influence of whatever drug he’d been given. He woke only once in a panic, begging to be set free. Eli stabbed him in the neck with another syringe, and he fell unconscious.

I remained silent behind Eli on the stallion. My stomach wouldn’t settle, and my brain felt like it was pounding against my skull. The entire ride back felt a little hazy. I spent a good portion of it trying not to fall off.

The sky was dark when we returned. Valda and a few lieutenants greeted us inside the front gate. I never thought I’d be relieved to see people who disliked me, but returning meant I was closer to the warmth and safety of my bed. And his sweater.

Eli had different ideas. He stopped us in the center of the courtyard. “Summon everyone,” he ordered. By this point, Finch was awake and groggy with his hands still tied behind his back. When he realized where he was, he began to panic.

“On your knees, Finch!” Eli barked as cadets emerged from their cabins.

My heart sank with disappointment. He was going to execute him now, in front of everyone.

“I didn’t want to do this,” Eli confessed to Finch, “but you betrayed your own people.” I stood frozen at the front of the crowd with a clear view as Eli addressed the courtyard with booming authority. “Isaiah Cross discovered Draven Finch conspiring with Molochai. Because of this, Finch killed him.” Horrified whispers spread through the crowd. I’d heard chatter in recent weeks as the news of Cross’s death had trickled in from the Caves. They knew he had died, but not like this. “Let this be an example of what happens when you murder one of your own people while betraying us all.”

“Commander,” Finch began to cry. “Please.”

“You made your choice knowing the consequences.” Eli shook his head, blue-gray eyes ripe with pity. “The punishment for murder is death. It always has been. It always will be.”

As he unsheathed a knife, Finch’s wet sobs echoed in the calm silence of night. I wanted to look away. I didn’t want to watch people die, and while I knew there’d be plenty of death in my future, I refused to become desensitized to it.

“Fera,” he called. My eyes snapped up. “Come here.” He motioned me forward. I obeyed and closed the short distance, blanching when he offered me the knife.

“What?” Panic crawled up my throat. “I helped you capture him. I did what you asked of me.”

“And now I’m asking this of you.” Eli’s stare made me feel like

I had no choice. “I’m doing you a favor. Show them you’re here to fight for our people.”

“A favor?”

He leaned close. “I want them to see I trust you. I want them to trust you the way I do.”

I had fought tirelessly. I’d thrown punches and knives and harmed adversaries to win and survive, but I’d only ever killed one Insidion out of self-defense. Killing a man while he knelt in the dirt with his hands tied behind his back felt… barbaric.

I’d told him I didn’t think I would hesitate when it came to killing him, yet here I was. Even though Draven Finch had killed Isaiah Cross, betrayed our people, and nearly killed Mina, I still felt like I was staring into the eyes of someone who wasn’t completely evil. His eyes were tired, sad, and angry. Mourning his mother was what had driven him to Molochai for answers.

I pitied him.

Was my sympathy a weakness, or something else?

“He did it for his mother, Eli,” I breathed. “He thought⁠—”

“It doesn’t matter what he thought, Fera. He risked the lives of thousands for an unknown reward. He’s a liability. He conspired with Molochai. Do you even understand how dangerous that is?”

I glared back, my anger rising. Yes, I think I knew. “We need to question him,” I insisted. “There could be other spies, and⁠—”

“I already did,” Eli gritted out. “Last night, while you slept. I know what I need to.”

“What did he say?” My brow creased. “How do you know he was telling the truth?”