ArchEnemy by Frank Beddor Page A

Rearranger’s molecular chamber fills up before it’s made anything more than a crater and it needs to be emptied to make a passage through the entire wall. Depending on the wall’s thickness, it might need to be emptied several times.”
    “So empty it,” Dodge said.
    “I’m not sure you understand, Mr. Anders. To empty it, I have to direct the molecules elsewhere, meaning that the portion of the wall I erase would have to be re-formed, and wherever I make that happen, it’s sure to attract attention. It would also mean leaving a deepening crater in the wall, visible for any Club soldier to see.”
    “Let’s hold off a bit longer,” Alyss said. “I should start feeling my imagination soon, shouldn’t I?”
    She hadn’t meant this to be a question; it had none of the assurance she’d intended, and Dodge was looking at her with a hint of—
    Is that disappointment?
    It felt as if she’d been frequently disappointing him these days—sometimes mildly, as now, other times poignantly, as with the salvage lot business. Did people in love always disappoint each other so much?
    “Transmission,” Dodge said, and turned his back to the guard tower. He tapped his forearm keypad and a translucent image of Bibwit and General Doppelgänger formed before him.
    “Unless you’re planning the queen’s rescue, we’re stuck here until Alyss gets her imagination back.”
    “We don’t have the power to effect anyone’s rescue,” said the general.
    “You mean he won?” Dodge was stunned. “Arch won ?”
    The general directed his words at Alyss. “My decks fought as hard as they could, my queen. They gave everything they had.”
    Alyss did her best to smile, the muscles in her face stubborn. I was pressed into power too soon. Learning control of my imagination is one thing, gaining the knowledge needed to be queen another. “Of course,” she said.
    “We hope Arch’s stay with us will be temporary,” Bibwit said. “Alyss, do you feel anything?”
    “Right now, Bibwit, I feel many things, but my imagination isn’t one of them.”
    Somewhere in a tenement: arguing voices, a wailing child.
    “Redd is alive,” General Doppelgänger said. “Arch has sent packs of tribal warriors to hunt throughout Boarderland and the queendom. When they find her, they’re to dispose of her.”
    “As yet,” said Bibwit, “the king doesn’t know of your whereabouts, Alyss, but that won’t remain the case for long. In addition, Hatter believes, and I agree, that because he betrayed Arch by sabotaging WILMA, the king will be vindictive toward him—or rather, toward him and Molly. He’s therefore taken his daughter into hiding, but vows to be of as much use as he can while seeing to her safety.”
    The loss of the queendom . . . my failure . I’ve disappointed so many.
    “And how are the two of you managing?” Alyss asked. “At least you’re not imprisoned, which I assume since you’ve the freedom to make contact.”
    The general glanced over his shoulder.
    “Don’t worry,” Bibwit said to him. “If Arch’s spies try to catch us unaware, I’ll hear them beforehand. We’re followed everywhere,” he explained to Alyss and Dodge. “But I’m thankful Arch means to exploit us for his own benefit as much as possible. It’s the reason we are, relatively speaking, free.”
    “For your own continued well-being,” Alyss urged, “cooperate with Arch.”
    “We’ll be careful not to appear un cooperative, but we’ll not take initiative to aid him in his machinations.”
    Dodge frowned. “Arch has to know Alyss will get her imagination back and that he’ll have serious trouble when she does, so he must have plans to prevent it.”
    General Doppelgänger agreed. “He’s never without plans.”
    It was the one thing Alyss and her advisers could know for sure.

    She initially thought it was from a lack of nutrition—the prickling sensation similar to regaining feeling in a limb. She felt it in the sheath of skin