by J. Elle
The crowd packed in around us parts. Golden Mane keeps pace with us, walking along the outside, around and between people, when a commotion breaks out. He pushes one person into another and they start arguing, shoving. What’s he doing? Golden Mane instigates and their disagreement grows louder. The crowd’s fighting spills into our path and Patrol pushes them off, yelling and swatting.
I shove my hands back to Tasha’s. “Again, try to get it off. Twist the latch.”
Her clammy hands work feverishly, and I feel my cuffs loosening.
“That’s it, T. Almost.”
I pull. Hard. And metal digs into my skin. My entire hand’s gonna rip off with the handcuffs. A Patrolman catches me from the corner of his eye. “What the—” He swats at me with the brunt of his gun. I duck and his gun slams into another Patrolman, throwing him off balance. I hook my bound hands around his neck and squeeze. He sputters and I hold him there, his back to me, like a personal shield.
“Behind me, Tasha, now.”
She scoots, pressing against my back.
The General whips around pointing a weapon at us and the crowd screams. “Rue, be smart. You’re outnumbered, powerless. Let him go.”
I stand firm, putting Patrolman in front of me and Tasha. He’s not taking us in that prison building, magic or not. Golden Mane catches my eye again, pointing up. Up high. His physique is familiar, tall with lean muscle. Golden rings hug his knuckles and he’s done up in some sort of robed costume—costume.
OMG, it’s Jhamal.
In disguise!
If Jhamal’s here in something from a costume merchant, Bri must be close by too. But the recorder, I don’t have it. He doesn’t know. I try to mouth the words and Jhamal-in-disguise gets closer, squinting. Ugh. He’ll never be able to read my lips from this far.
“I’ll ask one more time, Ms. Akintola,” the General’s weapon is aimed at my personal shield. “Let him go.”
I pull the Patrol shielding us tighter to me. He’s clawing at his throat, gasping for air. I hold on with every ounce of strength I have.
Jhamal waves at me, pointing to his wrist. He wants me to press play on the recorder. I shake my head, tears stinging my eyes. I don’t have it. He and Bri have everything set up to play the damn transmission and I don’t have the recorder, the proof.
This is falling apart. My entire plan is falling apart.
“IT’S POETIC YOU’D BE HERE.” The General’s voice bellows over the crowd, rattling every building on Main Street. There, up high, hanging like white sheets on the front of the District’s buildings, is the General’s angry face.
I-it worked. Somehow it worked.
There, in the flesh, is Bri standing in front of the General looking up at the recording. Her eyes puffy, hair ragged, and her wrists bandaged like she’s a damn mummy. She looks somehow even more pale and is smashing a button on the wristwatch clutched in her hand.
“We backed up the feed,” she says smiling nervously. She looks like she’s ’bout to pass out. “We got everything. I-it’s all here.”
The General looks between us and his expression turns from confusion to shock as the video replay shouts overhead.
The people on the street watched, a mix of confusion, shock, and anger written on their faces.
“YOU’RE A WASTE OF SPACE, JUST LIKE YOUR MOTHER.” The video plays, East Row’s brown brick homes in the backdrop, nestled side by side, so close it looks like they’re hugging.
Bri’s still standing there finger pressed to the watch, looking like she might faint.
“Turn it off!” the General shouts, and darts of light whistle through the air, knocking Bri off her feet. “Arrest her!”
Bri groans, writhing on the ground. The watch tumbles from her hands and the video glitches. Jhamal intercepts it, scoops Bri up, and disappears in the crowd.
In seconds, the playback starts again.
“This is treason! Arrest them both!” the General shouts, but the video of his gloating drowns out his shouting.
“I RUN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD! ME!” On the video, a flame from my finger grazes his throat.
People spill out of buildings, streams of students rush from the dorm halls, swallowing the courtyard—everyone’s eyes on the replay. The street’s a blanket of whispers, and it’s doubled in occupancy. All eyes are on the General’s gray face turning pink.
“Y-YOU’RE HUMAN?” It’s odd hearing my own voice so loud. Gasps erupt like an explosion and a few people glance at me, confusion, surprise, or something written on their faces.
“NOT COMPLETELY STUPID, I SEE.”
Patrol’s fixated on the video playback, but the General tries to get them to listen. “I said get her, now!”
A pair take off after Bri and Jhamal. The others ignore him completely, gaping at the General’s giant head on the screen. His skin’s turning red and chatter sweeps through the streets like a swarm of locusts.
“Hurry, Tasha,” I say. “While they’re distracted.”
The metal’s confusing between my fingers. I feel for the divot in the restraints and dig my nail in. I strain to pry it open.
“Almost got it,” Tasha whispers.
One more hard tug and the cuff on Tasha’s wrist snaps open. She’s much faster with free hands and my cuffs are off in seconds.
“BUT I GUESS EVEN DOGS HAVE BRAINS,” he bellows from a face ten stories tall. Tasha’s in the backdrop, and watching his magic pummel into her on screen rips me apart all over again. A few more seconds and the video flickers a moment then fades.
For a second, everything is silent.
Still.
Nothing moves.
No one breathes.
Eyes dart around and the General’s sweating bricks, completely unaware Tasha and I have freed ourselves. Patrol even stares.
He’s human.
Now they see him as an other.
Chaos erupts in motion. The General runs, shooting at me. He jets off through the crowd, half cursing him and the other half moving out of his way. Screams ricochet off the glass walls around the District’s buildings. Everyone flees in every direction, people pushing and stumbling over one another. Bodies bump into me, shoving. I shove back, fighting to keep Tasha close to me. Patrol tries to keep order, but one gets knocked over and stampeded.
Shouts buzz in my ear. The General’s getting away. But Tasha, I can’t just leave her right here. I pull her toward me, shielding her under my arm.
Something sounds like glass shattering and I spot giant masses flinging through the air. Shop windows and the Binding Ward’s glass walls burst into a million pieces.
Oh my god, this place is falling apart.
Fire erupts from inside the building and in minutes smoke’s scratching my throat.
The General—I’m losing sight of the General.
I step up on someone or something for a view above the crowd. As far as I can see, people are destroying buildings, ripping one another apart with magic. Amid the chaos, I spot a spark of light up ahead and a scraggly, almost bald head behind it. There he is.
A warm hand wraps around mine and my heart skips a beat. Jhamal. His costume has worn off and his side’s sticky with blood.
“Are you okay?”
“I will be fine.” He winces when he speaks. “What can I do?”
I place Tasha’s hand in his. “Get her out of here. Protect her with whatever you have.”
I kiss her forehead. “He’ll keep you safe until I get back, I promise.” She nods, her everything trembling.
Jhamal darts off as something booms and the tallest residence hall tips over, creaking its way to the ground with a crash. The skies rain steel and glass and dust clouds make it hard to see. I hunch down, darting through the crowd in the General’s direction.
He’s not getting away. I refuse to let him.
I push faster, coughing my way through the smoky air. Something stings my side, then feels wet, but I keep pushing. People scream profanities at me or one another, I don’t
know. I only have eyes on the General.
He turns toward the fallen debris of the residence halls and I pound the ground harder. He glances back at me and darts of magic fly like bullets my way. I dodge left, and the shots whip by. He hops over another chunk of fallen rubble and I follow him inside the crumbled structure that was our old dorm.
Metal groans, then clanks, and the ground shifts. Bang. A pile of rubble slams to the ground, blocking his path. He has nowhere to turn but back—to face me.
He’s trapped.
We’re trapped.
But only one of us is making it out of here.
“So, this is it then, huh?” His eyes are wild, bulging out of his head.
“For you, yeah.” I shoot first and our streams of energy meet, crackling like electricity. He groans and presses.
The Ancestors’ magic buzzes with my own in some deep crevice inside me. This. This is what they called me for.
“Let it go, Rue,” he says, groaning to keep his defense up. “You’re a forgotten detail of a story that’s never been written. This isn’t a fight you can win.”
“Watch me.” I dig, every inch of me aching. Fire pulses through my every limb. Deep inside my magic churns, searing my insides like a violent force trying to rip its way out of me.
I let it.
And I aim for his wrists.
“Ahhh!” Air buckles and cracks, rippling like waves. The General flies backward and slams into a piece of steel. His onyx pops from his wrists and hits the ground, rolling to my feet. I scoop them up and put them in my pocket.
“You lose.” I heave a wad of spit at his face. “We win.”
CHAPTER 37
NEW GHIZON BURNS.
Smoke billows toward the sky, kissing the sun. The General’s bound by his feet and hands, attached to a rope I hold over my shoulder. His head drags the pavement, his eyes batting in and out of consciousness. I make my way up the street, around piles of rubble, dragging the General. A simple spell helps him come along weightlessly. His groans are muffled and restraints are on his hands.
He’s done.
Almost.
I do have one more thing for him.
But first, I have unfinished business here.
He didn’t act alone.
I’ll have the Chancellor’s head, too.
The city’s in ruins. People stare as I pass. A few mutter things under their breath. Others bow, saying thanks. The city is falling whether they like it or not. I sift through faces, looking for someone I know.
That’s when I see him and my blood runs hot again. I yank the dead weight behind me faster and approach Luke, who’s chewing out some frail woman. His nails are dug into her arm.
I’m at his back before he knows I’m there.
“O-ooh, R-Rue! So ni—”
I slam my fist into his teeth and he staggers before stumbling to the ground. I straddle him and punch him again. Lying asshole. Two-faced.
“I’m sorry! The General s-said if I cooperated and got in good with Bri to spy on you, he’d promote me to Patrol. He even said he’d give my family new designations, Dwegini.…”
“You’d let my people die to up your status?” He’d fit right in where I’m from. I kick him.
“Mind if I?” The familiar voice of a girl I used to call my best friend tickles a special place inside me. Bri’s definitely looked better. Her knees aren’t shaking anymore, but she’s covered in scrapes and dried blood. The bandages on her wrists are blotchy with red stains.
“Your wrists?” I ask.
“I-I asked Bati to have my onyx removed, Unbound.” She holds her hands up. “No more magic, officially.”
“Bri, I—I don’t know what to say.”
“Rue, I’ve always envied your ability to just be you. You’ve never fit in here, so to speak, and you never tried to. You’re comfortable in your own skin. I want that. I want…” She gazes off in the distance. “I guess I want to stop caring about being the best at what they say I need to be and figure out what being the best means to me. Starting with getting rid of that stolen onyx on my wrists. And I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I want no part in what the Chancellor did. It was wrong. It is wrong. And I’m still working through it all, to be honest.” She shifts her weight and winces. “But I want to do what I can to help. I’m sorry, Rue. I’m so sorry.”
I hug her and it feels good. Luke groans in pain, trying to get back up. I kick him and he barrels back over.
“If I screw up…,” she starts.
“When you screw up,” I say.
“When I screw up, call me out on it, please.”
“Oh, I will. Trust. Let’s just hope your know-it-all ass listens.”
We laugh.
“Being you unapologetically, Bri, is the best goal you’ve ever set for yourself, I gotta say.”
She blushes. “I’m gonna do my best. Trying to be like you.”
We laugh again. “But hey, have you seen the Chancellor?” I ask.
“I haven’t. He’s probably trying to get as far away from here as possible. This place is coming apart. Some are shouting for the Chancellor’s head and others are fighting them for saying it. It’s scary seeing people like this. What’s gonna happen?”
Smoke stings my eyes. “I don’t know, but you’re right, it’s a war zone. I’m going to reinforce the barrier over Yiyo to keep any Grays from going that way.” I nudge her. “Except you, of course. So, you better head that way and soon.”
She nods, but won’t meet my eyes. “Luke had been acting really weird, controlling almost, with questions about stuff he didn’t need to know,” she says. “I should have seen it sooner. I’m really sorry, Rue.”
“I didn’t see it either, to be honest. He always seemed cool.”
She mouths “sorry” again and squeezes my hand. I squeeze back. Feels good to have my friend again. Luke groans and Bri slams the toe of her shoe into him. “You bastard!” Another blow. “How could you?” And another. She’s going in.
As I turn to leave her to it, I spot slick skin like polished mahogany and I melt.
Jhamal.
He’s bandaging his shoulder and side. Cuts and scrapes line his arms and a nasty slash mars his cheek. The world fades to a whisper. Jhamal is all I see.
“Rue? What you… oooooh,” Bri says when she sees who I’m staring at. “Go ahead, girl.”
My feet stick to the ground like cement.
Time is fleeting.
We gotta say the things we think and feel while we can.
My dad taught me that.
I rush over. Jhamal spots me and limps toward me. Steps from him, his cuts are easier to see. A small gash runs down his temple, and thin red slashes color his cheeks. His pants are torn, his armor battered and caked in blood. And there’s Tasha behind him.
I squeeze her. “Sis, you okay?”
She nods. “I’m okay. Some old dude running through here tried to grab me, but your friend here hemmed him up.” Tasha grimaces, glancing at Jhamal’s wound.
Everything that comes to mind to say sounds stupid. How do I thank him? What words are enough?
“Thank you.” I throw my arms around his neck and he hugs back. “I’m so glad you came through. The costume was genius.”
His chiseled arms are tight around me. I can’t breathe in his grip and I don’t want to.
“I told you I can do whoop-ass too.” He chuckles. I laugh, his heart thumping fast against me. He’s so corny and cute.
Tasha looks between us. “I can take a hint.” She slides off and my cheeks burn. His lips part in a sideways smile and it’s sexy as shit.
“Your sister is very fierce, like you. She bit the man who tried to hit her.” He laughs.
“That’s T. By the way, have you seen the Chancellor?” I ask.
He points. “Heading that way, yes. I didn’t approach because I had Tasha with me. Then he just vanished on the spot.”
I’ll find him. “Jhamal, really though…” I meet his eyes and
I could stay there, swim there, forever. “Thank you. Coming through with the photofri—whatever they’re called. The recorders. And looking out for T.” My insides shudder as lines dance up his biceps. I’m warm all over, trying to play it off.
“It is an honor, My Q—”
“Jelani,” I say.
“Jelani,” he says, holding my gaze. “Once things calm down and you finish knocking off whoever else is on your list…” He chuckles and his chiseled cheeks send a wave of heat up the back of my neck.
“Maybe we can do something other than fight the next time we see each other?” He flashes his pearly whites again.
“Yeah. I’d like that. Maybe we can catch the latest action flick back home.”
“Flick?”
“A show, like a movie. We can watch a movie in a theater.”
“In Ghizon, we have warriors fight wildebeests as part of training. Now that is a good show.”
I snort. “It’s a little different there.”
His touch is warm when he takes my hands. “I would like that very much.” He brings my knuckles to his lips and his breath grazes my hand.
Time is fleeting.
No regrets.
Before he can kiss my knuckles, I pull his face to mine.
Everything spins around us and his breath licks my lips. Never have I wanted something so badly. My insides flutter and I grip his arms, pulling him even closer. Our noses touch. Sweat and earth, brawn and strength, dance in my nostrils, curling my toes.
“Are you sure?” he whispers.
I press my lips to his and for a moment there’s no world around us. I’m not in my hood or Ghizon. I’m not a warrior or a Ghizoni queen. I’m a flicker, a feeling, a flame that can’t be quenched.
His arms fold around my neck and he pulls me deeper in to him.
His mouth is fire.
My tongue dances with his flame.
Seconds move like days and my insides scream more alive than they’ve ever been. We pull apart, foreheads pressed together, out of breath.
Whatever this is, I don’t want it to end.
He holds my face in his hands. “I hope we can see this movie together soon.”
I sigh. I want to tell him back at home Edwards Theater off Highway 59 stays open until two a.m. I want to say I’m a normal girl and having a boyfriend is totally something I can do. I want to promise him we can walk away from this place and be regular people.