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  I already knew he was a psychopath. But now?

  He’s more dangerous than ever.

  And I have less than twenty-four hours to stop him.

  After escaping Lengard and finding sanctuary with the Remnants, Alyssa Scott is desperate to save those she left behind—and the rest of the world—from the power-hungry scientist, Kendall Vanik. But secrets and lies block her at every turn, and soon Lyss is questioning everything she has ever believed.

  When long-lost memories begin to surface and the mysteries of her past continue to grow, Lyss battles to retain her hard-won control. Allies become enemies and enemies become allies, leaving her certain about only two things: when it comes to Speakers, nothing is ever as it seems . . . and the only person she can trust is herself.

  WEAPON

  LYNETTE NONI

  Praise for Lynette Noni

  “Lynette Noni is a marvelous and inventive storyteller, whose books are absolutely impossible to put down. I can’t wait to see what she comes up with next!”—Sarah J. Maas, #1 New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Throne of Glass and A Court of Thorns and Roses series

  “Lynette Noni is a master at her craft. The Medoran Chronicles have richly developed characters, superb world-building that makes you feel like you’re actually there, and stories that pack a punch, full of emotion and thrills. Highly recommended!” —James Dashner, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Maze Runner series

  “Let me say right up front that Lynette Noni is a very talented writer. Her books tell stories that draw you in and refuse to let go. Her characters are memorable and quick to surprise. I cannot wait to see what she will do next.”—Terry Brooks, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Shannara Chronicles

  “Lynette Noni is a masterful storyteller. Her characters steal into your heart and won’t let go!”—Maria V. Snyder, New York Times bestselling author of the Poison Study series

  “When Lynette Noni opens the door to another world, don’t hesitate: jump in and enjoy.”—Trudi Canavan, internationally bestselling author of The Black Magician trilogy

  “Lynette Noni’s compelling stories keep readers turning pages to the very end.”—Juliet Marillier, award-winning author of the Sevenwaters series

  “Noni crafts a vividly textured narrative landscape with an irresistible cast of lovable and love-to-hate characters. The perfect balance of humour, heart and high stakes makes The Medoran Chronicles a reader’s delight.”—Rachael Craw, award-winning author of The Rift and the Spark trilogy

  “Lynette Noni is a creative powerhouse. Her books leave fans wanting more every time.”—Gabrielle Tozer, award-winning author of Remind Me How This Ends and The Intern

  “Lynette Noni is an absolute powerhouse of Australian YA fantasy: young readers are in Harry-Potter-level fervour about the Medoran series, and she engages with her community with such warmth and genuine enthusiasm. She’s who I want to be when I grow up.”—Steph Bowe, author of Girl Saves Boy and Night Swimming

  “Lynette Noni creates vivid characters who jump off the page and demand we care for (or hate) them. She also paints a vibrant Medora that is as real as it is fantastic. Lynette entwines both of these writing skills to create a fantasy series up there with Harry Potter, Nevermoor and Narnia.”—James Lindsay, author of the Plato Wyngard series

  BY LYNETTE NONI

  The Whisper Series

  Whisper

  Weapon

  The Medoran Chronicles

  Akarnae

  Raelia

  Draekora

  Graevale

  Vardaesia

  The Medoran Chronicles Novellas

  We Three Heroes

  To Anabel Pandiella—

  You’re living proof that unicorns do exist.

  CONTENTS

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Acknowledgments

  Author Bio

  CHAPTER ONE

  Looking around the large underground cavern lit by flaming torches, I wonder—not for the first time—whether I’ve made a mistake in coming here.

  “Come on, Creator girl. I don’t have all day.”

  I purse my lips at Keeda, but before I can respond, Pandora snorts and says, “I see my nickname has caught on.” She doesn’t look up at us, one hand twirling her purple pigtail, the other stabilizing the massive volume in her lap, the title Advanced Quantum Mechanics in gold foil down the spine.

  Spearing a look at both of them, I only stop myself from saying what they can do with their nickname because of the half smile I catch on Cami’s face. She’s sitting on the ground beside Pandora with my kitten, Schrödinger, on her lap, stroking his glossy black-and-white coat. Her easy humor has been absent for the last six days, and I don’t want to risk being the reason for it vanishing again.

  “I don’t understand why Kael—” I start to say, but Keeda cuts me off.

  “Kael’s busy.” She chews like a camel before blowing a large pink bubble, the resulting pop echoing obnoxiously in the underground space. “So you have to make do with me.”

  I bite back all the things I want to say, a tumultuous storm rising within me.

  Six days have passed since Keeda helped Cami and me escape Lengard, six days since we sought refuge with the Remnants in the catacombs beneath Sydney’s Taronga Zoo. The first three I spent unconscious, only to awaken and have Kael explain what had happened and how we had come to be here. I’d been so anxious to leave straight away, to return to Lengard and save those we had left behind: the Speakers still in the hands of the dangerous scientist, Kendall Vanik, and his powerful accomplice, Dr. Alvin Manning. Our friends and … and Ward—Cami’s brother, and my … my …

  I’m still uncertain how to define the relationship between Ward and me, one that I believed was founded on lies and betrayal, until he sacrificed his freedom to save my life. It was then that the truth came out: he had been protecting me all along.

  When I awoke in the catacombs, I was desperate to get back to him—to all of the innocent Lengard Speakers—but I had been so weak from Vanik’s torture that I could barely stand, let alone embark on a rescue mission. Kael, however, had promised that when I was feeling better, we would return and save them all.

  Another three days have passed since then, and thanks to Cami’s healing power, not only am I feeling better, but I have been for nearly seventy-two hours.

  In that time, I haven’t seen Kael once.

  “Have you spoken with him?” I ask Keeda. My voice is quiet but there’s an edge to it, as if the storm within me can’t keep from breaking through.

  “I told you,” she says shortly. “He’s—”

  “Busy. I know.” My tone is bitter. “Too busy to carry out his promises, apparently.”

  It’s not just his promise to help me get back to Lengard. There
’s another promise that Kael has yet to fulfill, one that only adds to my frustration: the promise that he would help me master my Creator ability.

  While control is no longer something I need to learn—and I have Ward’s training to thank for that—there’s still so much that I don’t know, still so little that I’m capable of doing. My power should be infinite, limited only by my own imagination. But more and more I’m discovering how challenging it is to unlimit my imagination, to broaden my mind and allow my Creator ability to be creative. When I was in Vanik’s lab, weak as I was, if only I’d been able to think of what to do, I could have stopped him once and for all, instead of just running away to safety.

  Never again do I want to feel so helpless—which is why, with Kael “busy,” I’ve had to resort to alternative help.

  At first, it was just Cami and me. She was the one waiting beside my bed on day four, not Kael. I had expected her to ask what the plan was, to echo my thoughts by demanding that we needed to return to Lengard immediately. Instead, she quietly asked if she could heal my wounds. I’d hesitated at first, some part of me feeling as if I owed it to those left behind to keep the pain as a reminder that they were still suffering, even if Dr. Manning’s ability meant they had no idea. But seeing Cami’s pale face and the tears glistening in her eyes, I had nodded silently, aware that she blamed herself for what had happened, at least partly. If allowing her to heal me eased some of her guilt, then I would give her that.

  Within seconds, all I had left from that night was a faint white scar on my arm where Crew, under Manning’s mental command, had used his power to tear open my flesh.

  The scar still itches, but the pain is gone.

  The physical pain, at least.

  After Cami healed me, some of the color had returned to her face, a new resolve settling over her features. It was then that she asked me what we were going to do, how we were going to help the Exodus recruits.

  I didn’t have an answer.

  I still don’t.

  And with every day that passes, her features grow more and more haunted.

  She’s upset—I know that. And she’s scared. Not for herself; for her friends, for her brother. For all those we had to leave behind.

  I’m scared, too. Because six days might as well be a lifetime.

  One hundred and forty-four hours.

  Eight thousand, six hundred and forty minutes.

  For each of those days, each of those hours, each of those minutes, Vanik could be doing anything. Is doing anything. To our friends—to Sneak and Crew and Enzo.

  … To Ward.

  Keeda, at least, is here with us. Her cover as a spy for Kael and the Remnants is blown, the catacombs her sanctuary now. She’s safe from Vanik’s clutches, from Manning’s control—not that the therapist’s ability worked on her. I still haven’t been told why that is. But on the list of priorities, that question is nowhere near the top, unlike the rest flooding my mind:

  What do we do now?

  How do we save them?

  What if Vanik succeeds?

  Those are the questions that plague me. Because my fears aren’t only for the Exodus recruits—I fear for the whole world. If Vanik manages to replicate my Creator gene and spawns his own Speaking army, then …

  No matter how many days have passed, I still can’t bear to think about it.

  Then there are the other questions I try—and fail—not to dwell on. Vanik’s taunting words about my parents haunt my mind. The possibility that my mum and dad are alive, that they’re out there somewhere … that maybe they wanted me to forget …

  I don’t even know where to begin with that information. But it’s not something I can let lie. I have to know what happened. I have to know why they never told me about my Speaking ability, about their Speaking abilities. I have to know why, for over two and a half years, I was convinced that I’d killed them.

  That was another promise Kael made me—that he would help me uncover the truth.

  Three days, and three broken promises.

  Keeda blows and pops another pink bubble, drawing my attention back to her and the empty cavern we’re standing in. I look toward the flickering flames affixed to the rock walls and give myself a mental shake, aware that I’m not being fair to Kael. He’s doing everything he can to make sure I’m safe here—that we’re safe here. That’s why I haven’t seen him for days, because he’s been monitoring the situation with Lengard closely. Our escape caused a host of problems for the Remnants, including the need for added security within the catacombs. Kael’s looking after us, all of us.

  When Keeda says he’s busy, she’s right—he is. And I need to be more understanding of that, even if my patience is growing thin. Kael is my friend, and he cares about me. I know that he will come through eventually, that he will fulfill all of his promises.

  I’m just struggling with the delay.

  … Which is why I’m now standing here with the bubble-blowing Keeda, the studious Pandora, and the cat-stroking Cami.

  It was Dante’s idea—Dante Oberon, the Remnants’ mind reader. This morning he caught Cami and me trying to sneak out of the catacombs, the two of us so desperate for information about Lengard that we were willing to leave in search of our own. He’d intercepted us at the end of the long passage we were creeping down, barring the path with his arms crossed over his massive chest. Eyeing us shrewdly, he’d said, “Between Liana and me, did you really think we wouldn’t know?”

  I’d wanted to slap my forehead, having forgotten about Liana’s ability to Speak news of the future into the present, offering warnings of things to come.

  “I wasn’t aware that we were prisoners here,” I’d said instead, determined not to sound apologetic—or guilty.

  “You’re not,” Dante replied. “But it’d be nice if you didn’t offer yourselves up on a silver platter to Lengard after everything we risked to get you out of there.”

  I had deflated at that, as had Cami.

  Dante’s stance had relaxed then, compassion overtaking his features. “Look, we’re coming up with a plan, all right? Just sit tight for a little longer. Why don’t you … I don’t know … do some training or something to keep busy, play around with your Speaking abilities?” He flexed his biceps pointedly and added, “It’s like building a muscle—you have to exercise it in order to grow.”

  I had wanted to point out that Kael was meant to be helping me in that department, but Dante had started to usher us back down the tunnel, escorting us all the way to our room. After he left, I’d turned to see if Cami wanted to make a break for it again, but she’d sighed and said Dante was right—there was no point in us getting caught.

  Frustrated sparks had shot from my fingers with my reply, leaving small fireworks cartwheeling around the enclosed space. For a long moment, the two of us had watched them in stunned silence, the irritation bleeding out of me as the bright lights fizzled and popped.

  “You know, I think Dante might be onto something with the training idea,” Cami had said wryly.

  Despite the self-reproach I’d felt at having unintentionally lost control, for the first time since awakening in the catacombs, I’d grinned.

  It was in that moment that Keeda had entered our room, with Pandora on her heels. They’d stopped dead at the sight of the fireworks display, the utter absurdity of the scene causing them to squawk out demands for an explanation. Cami had filled them in while I’d tried to coax the distressed Schrödinger out from under my bed, where he’d sought refuge at the first pyrotechnic explosion.

  When Cami finished by sharing Dante’s suggestion, Keeda and Pandora had offered their company for the afternoon, assuring us that Kael didn’t need them.

  It was Pandora who had led us to this cavern minutes ago, saying that it was one of the Remnants’ lesser-used training spaces. Once, it had been used as a dining room, until the number of inhabitants grew too large for them all to fit at mealtimes. Now it was just one of the many empty areas linked to the underground l
abyrinth, rarely used, mostly forgotten.

  “I come here when I want some peace and quiet,” Pandora had said as she’d moved toward the corner, shoved her hand into the side of her jeans, and, with a whispered word and a flash of light, pulled the massive physics textbook out of her small—too small—pocket.

  “The torches are at a really good height for reading,” she’d added, ignoring my gobsmacked look at the casual use of her infusion ability and her Mary Poppins-like expanded storage space.

  Even now, minutes later, I’m still dwelling on what I witnessed. It’s the everyday acts of Speaking like this that I’m struggling to get used to. Despite all the training I did with Ward back at Lengard, Speaking isn’t yet second nature to me. I spent years trying to stifle my power, whereas people like Pandora have spent years cultivating theirs. I need to find a way to catch up, or I’ll never be able to face Vanik, let alone defeat him.

  “Are we doing this, Lyss?” Keeda says, interrupting my thoughts. “Or do you want to whinge some more about your abandonment issues?”

  I shoot her a warning look, but she only grins and blows another bubble. Unable to help myself, I envision what I want and whisper, “Pop.”

  Light flares and Keeda’s eyes widen as her gum expands to the size of a balloon before it bursts, sticky pink residue exploding onto her face.

  Swearing at me, she swipes at her skin, drawing the mess away in stretchy threads.

  I hear Pandora’s guffaw and Cami’s light laugh, the latter raising my spirits and making me certain Keeda’s retaliation will be worth it.

  “Is that all you’ve got, Creator girl?” she taunts, folding the wad of gum into its empty wrapper before lobbing it at the still-snickering Pandora, where it hits the back of her book and falls harmlessly to the dusty cavern floor.

  “Tell me what you want from me and I’ll do it,” I challenge in return.

  Keeda shakes her head, her braid swinging behind her. “Nope, that’s not how this works. You want to train? Then here’s your chance to show us what you can do.”