by H M Angues
I glare at the second lieutenant that spoke up. “Yes, I can. And you will do as I say. Because, as of today, I am your emperor, and my word is law.”
∞∞∞
Jax is placed on a hoverjet headed to Vishar Prison. Blade and I accompany him, since all of my Airmen refused to fly him. The gray Condor we are in is a hulking piece of machinery, made for carrying ground transports and heavy weaponry, and not just the three of us. It’s slow-moving compared to the Nighthawks but will get us to the prison in about eight hours.
I let Blade take over the pilot controls after an hour or so and climb into the cargo hold with Jax, stretching out my stiff limbs as I do so. He looks worn, but there’s still an innocent type of glow to his features.
“What’s your name?” he asks after a few long moments of silence. “We don’t learn much about Namari back home, except the bad stuff.”
“Calla.”
He nods. “That’s pretty. I’ve never heard it before. What was... What was your father’s name? All I heard about him was that he is—was—the emperor.”
“Augustus the Fourth.”
“Who was Augustus the First?”
“The very first emperor of Namari. He brought the seven warring nations together under the empire, and the sovereign nations became the seven Provinces. He was also the first Primori ever seen in these lands.”
“Primori?”
I hold out my hand, a small flame dancing on my palm. It grows, the fire circling my forearm, and eventually making its way to my shoulder. I close my hand and the flames disappear with a cloud of smoke.
He stares at me with boyish wonder his green eyes filled with awe. “I know what you are. But I thought they only existed in Helkyn. And your people aren’t leaders. They’re kept in a closed district of our nation where they’re basically prisoners. They get thrown into the Arena to fight in death matches. It’s the biggest form of entertainment we have.”
My eyes widen with astonishment as my mind runs with this new information. My grandmother, High Lady Katarina, was the first Primori to be found outside the royal family. She was married to my grandfather at an early age. She never said a word about where she came from, but now... now I have an idea as to why. What if she had escaped this hellish life that Jax speaks of? What if Helkyn was her home?
The thought of an entire population of Primori outside Namari excites me, but then horror replaces the emotion when it settles in that they’re being used for entertainment and treated like wild beasts. “Are there many of them?”
He nods his head. “There’s thousands. Sometimes the government has to send them to war because their numbers grow too much. I don’t agree with it, though. I hate most things about Helkyn. That’s why I asked Kainan to take me with him when he left. It’s a bad place, but we grow up believing Namari is worse.”
I stare at Jax, analyzing him. He looks his age; a young man’s face with matted black hair and hints of a beard growing on his cheeks and jaw. His eyes are a soft green and filled with a childlike curiosity. He’s tall, around the same height as Blade, and has the body of a well-trained soldier. And it seems that, despite his rough background, he’s kept his boyish charm.
“You didn’t do it.” Now I know why I had been so reluctant to punish him. It was a gut feeling.
The surprise that jolts him is enough to solidify my assumption.
“They used you, didn’t they? As a scapegoat.”
He nods frantically. “It wasn’t Kainan’s idea, it was hers. She figured you would go easy on me. He didn’t agree with it at all, but she made him go along with it, just like she makes him go along with everything. This whole rebellion was her idea, anyway, not his.”
“Her? Who is she, Jax?”
His green eyes fill with terror. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Oh, shit. She’s going to kill me, and she’s gonna kill Adra, too. Shit, shit, shit.” He shakes his head, burying his face in his cuffed hands. I stare at his wrists, at the gleaming metal, and with a gentle snap the cuffs fall to the ground. I don’t take the time to relish in my newfound ability, like I had been able to when I first realized I could control the earth and the wind of Eterra.
He hardly notices the small, magical act, too frazzled by the betrayal of his words to process anything else that’s going on around him. He doesn’t look up when I stand to talk to Blade in the cockpit.
“Change of plans,” I whisper to him.
“I figured that. Hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been eavesdropping on your conversation. Where should we take him?”
“Drakonis.”
Blade nods and changes the destination on the jet’s Nav. I return to my seat in the cargo hold, reaching across to gently brush my warm fingers against Jax's wrists.
Jax finally looks up from his hands. “What’s going to happen now?” His eyes are red and puffy, tears leaving trails in the dirt of his cheeks.
I lean back, folding my arms across my chest. “You’re going to tell me who this she is.”
Chapter 10
Rysen
Darinthe Manor makes me nauseous.
I can’t even see the structure itself—we’re standing several meters beneath it, thick rock between us and the manor—but I still have a sick feeling. Memories of my father, like his harsh words and even harsher touch when he did unspeakable things to Kainan and me as boys, make me want to hurl.
“You okay, Ryse?” Fayette asks, nudging me with an elbow. “You look like you’re about to faint.”
I gulp down my anxiety and fear. “I’m fine,” I croak.
“Good.” She thrusts a loaded rifle into my arms. “Let’s get moving.”
Our recon mission had evolved into extraction in the blink of an eye. Once our scouts had confirmed that our information was correct and that Kainan really was in the manor, Fayette had called the Overseer. After a brief discussion, the Circle had decided to move forward with their planning.
Now, our orders are to extract Kainan and bring him back to Drakonis. Seeing as I know Darinthe’s layout best, I’ll be part of the team going in, along with Fayette and half a dozen others.
“If our grand duchess wasn’t busy, we wouldn’t even need these,” the lanky blonde explains, nodding her head toward the weapon in my hands. “Let’s get moving.”
We climb up the narrow, steep tunnel that’s supposed to lead directly under the manor’s employee kitchen. It’s a long and uncomfortable trek, but we make it there eventually. Fayette opens the heavy hatch, dusty basement air rushing toward us. We climb out one by one. The small basement kitchen is cramped with all of us inside, and we shuffle around trying not to bump into each other or any objects.
A clatter and a squeal catch our attention.
A dark-skinned Mordan girl clasps a hand over her mouth as the pot she had been carrying crashes to the ground.
Fayette reacts first.
“What’s your name?” she asks kindly, assuming the role of a caring and empathetic woman. I know she is probably only doing it to prevent this girl from running to warn someone. Hurting innocent people is out of the question on all Underground assignments, I've been told.
“Bellamy,” she whimpers. “Are you here for Kainan?”
Fayette glances at me warily. I step forward. “Yes, Bellamy. Do you know where he is?” I try to keep my voice gentle and soft.
She nods. “But I want something in return,” she demands. “I want you to take me with you. Get me out of here. And please, don’t kill him. At least not right away.”
A quick look at Fayette says she accepts these terms. I nod to Bellamy, and she spills all the information she carries. Then, one of our men takes her back down the tunnel and to the safety of the Underground. The rest of us move forward.
∞∞∞
The ground transport vehicle rattles as we ride through the rocky tunnel. The road is wide and has two lanes; it’s used by the Underground for long distance travel when flying isn’t an option. It’s not lit, though, so the o
nly devices illuminating the space are the transport’s headlights.
I think about Calla. I know she made it to the Borderlands a couple hours after she left. That was two days ago, but I haven’t heard from her since, and neither has anyone else. I know she can handle herself but her being in the middle of a war zone fills me with dread. I send up a small prayer to whatever gods exist, if any, for her safety.
The extraction mission was wildly successful. Fayette didn’t like that; she thought it was too easy, like someone wanted us to find Kainan.
Bellamy’s intelligence had proved to be correct. Because of her information, my brother sits in the transport behind us, chained and guarded.
The younger girl sits across from me now in the back of the transport. Her brown face looks grayish, the blood drained from her features. She reaches up to tie her black dreads into a ponytail. She looks familiar—her facial structure is similar to that of someone else I know, with large eyes, a straight nose, and high cheekbones.
“You all right?” I ask her after noticing her pallor.
“No.” She doesn’t elaborate, and I don’t press her further. Instead, I change the subject, trying to spark a conversation to fill the awkward silence. Fayette is driving the transport, and a metal barrier divides us, so I can’t speak to her.
“You’re from Morda, aren’t you?”
Bellamy nods. “I moved to Roran a couple years ago to get away from home after my mother died. I’ve been working so I could save up some extra money to get myself a place in Capital City.”
“How did you manage to get a place in Roran?” Rorani and Mordans have a long, bloody and racist history. The two Provinces were the most hostile toward each other before Augustus came along and formed the empire. Morda put the past behind them, but Roran and her people still hold a grudge. Not many in the Province would have been likely to hire this girl or let her rent a place. It amazes me that Kainan would have let her work in the manor.
“I have friends there. You’d be surprised to know that not everyone is racist in Roran.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never really been far beyond Darinthe.”
Her eyes—amber like a certain Fireblood I hold dear to my heart—dart to me. “You’re Emeric’s son, aren’t you? The younger one that was friends with the last king.”
“That’s me all right.”
“I’m sorry about King Talon. I liked him; he was a good man. Only ever met him once, though.” I urge her to elaborate, and she continues. “I got in an altercation with a former employer of mine in the city because I owed him some money, and it just happened to be the day that the king was visiting. He was dressed so casually that I didn’t recognize him when he approached. Talon paid off my debt with the money in his pocket, then went on his way. I didn’t realize it was him until later that evening, when I got a comm from the royal manor saying the king set me up with a job working for one of his officials.”
I remember that day. It was less than a year ago; I was with him. We wanted to explore the city on our own. No guards, no fuss. He heard two people yelling while we were walking on the sidewalk and went to go settle the dispute. I never bothered to find out who they were or what they were arguing about then. I had no idea he sent a comm to her that same day.
“I don’t like Roran. It’s so different from the rest of the Provinces. In Morda, no one is greedy. In Roran, it feels like the old ways reign once again, and that’s something you wouldn’t experience anywhere else in Namari,” she adds.
I don’t respond, and Bellamy and I stay silent the rest of the way. Before we know it, the massive door to Drakonis comes into view and the guards press a few buttons on the keypad to open it. We drive into the hangar and park the transport with all the others.
I climb out with Fayette and Bellamy, and the three of us make our way to the Overseer’s office, which can be seen from the hangar floor. Near the ceiling, a wall-to-wall window looks down at the cavern. It’s tinted, making it impossible to see inside, but I know once up there I’ll have a perfect view of the cavern below.
As we walk, I risk a glance over my shoulder. Kainan is gagged and his hands are tied as soldiers of the Underground drag him through a door I’ve never seen before. He disappears around a corner, never breaking eye contact with me.
We climb the several flights to the office. The Overseer is standing behind his desk in the middle of the only room in Drakonis that has carpet. The concrete walls are painted white and lined with bookshelves. The carpet is chestnut brown, probably to hide stains from dirty boots.
His normally stoic face looks tired and weary. He barely glances up when his daughter approaches him.
“Dad, what’s wrong?” she implores him. It sounds odd, hearing her call him that.
He sighs heavily, rubbing his temple with scarred and callused fingers. “Sit down.”
Fayette and I sit in the two leather chairs in front of his desk. Bellamy lounges on one of the sofas near the bookshelves. I catch the Overseer's eye on her. “She's with us,” I assure him.
“I'll believe it; I don’t have time to ask about her,” he says when his one good eye catches Bellamy. “I need you to not react when I tell you this. Last thing I need is someone panicking and doing something rash.” He looks directly at me when he says this, his marred and squinted eye narrowing even more. “Calla, Blade and the emperor were at a temporary military encampment near enemy lines. They confirmed that Helkyn soldiers were indeed brandishing the rebel flag.” He pauses for a moment to let the information absorb.
“I don’t understand the big deal—” Fayette begins, but her father hushes her.
“One of Kainan’s rebels infiltrated the camp and set off an explosion that killed more than half the men and women there. That was the last I heard. As of right now, I have no idea if our grand duchess and her father survived the blast. Blade, we’ve confirmed, is alive.”
Now I know why he looked at me. Anxiety starts to settle in, but I choke the feelings down. At least if I have a panic attack, I’m already sitting.
“Ryse?” Fayette looks at me with concern, placing a soft hand on my wrist. I shove her off, leaning forward and burying my face in my hands.
A voice comes out of a speaker on the Overseer’s desk. I snap my head up to listen.
“Sir, we have an incoming Condor that’s requesting permission to land. It’s an Imperial Air Force hoverjet, they say they’re carrying no cargo and claim to have the emperor on board.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Bellamy leap up to her feet and press her nose to the window at the mention of the emperor. She glances over her shoulder, her amber eyes wide. The same amber as Calla's, I realize.
He presses a button next to the speaker. “Permission granted.”
I turn to look out the window at the incoming jet. It’s a grey Condor with IAF marked on the side underneath the Air Force emblem. They say the emperor is on board; wouldn’t they have also mentioned if the grand duchess with them? I try not to think too much about it. I will know soon enough.
The pilot lands close enough that I can see who’s in the cockpit: Blade. My heart sinks into my stomach. She’s not with them. I force the thought aside, trying to calm my chaotic emotions. I’ve only ever seen her fly the smaller Nighthawks—she probably doesn’t like piloting the larger hoverjets. Or she could have just been tired and asked Blade to fly.
I can’t sit still any longer. I leap from my seat and race down the stairs to the hangar floor. Relief floods through me as the Condor’s ramp lowers. Calla is walking next to Blade, and a tall stranger is with them. Her father is nowhere to be seen. I slow down, the anxiety fading away. She finally sees me and slowly starts heading this way, but there’s a limp in her step. She’s favoring her left leg. I quicken my pace again to minimize the distance between us.
I don’t care that dozens are watching. I’m so relieved to see her that I lift Calla into my arms, hugging her tight. I bury my face into her neck.
She
returns the embrace, but only for half a moment. “I’m glad you’re all right,” she mumbles.
“I heard what happened. The Overseer didn’t know if you were alive.” I take a step back, glancing between Calla, Blade and the stranger they brought with them. It seems we've both returned with new faces. “They said the emperor was on board. Where’d your father go?”
There is a sadness in her eyes that I’ve only seen once before—when she watched her brother die on camera. Tears begin to form, but she blinks them away and straightens her shoulders, trying to look strong and together. “I’m the emperor now,” she whispers so no one else can hear the crack in her voice.
“Calla,” I breathe. I reach for her but she swats me away, her demeanor hardening.
“That young man standing on the ramp—that’s Jax. He’s close to your brother and has provided us with a lot of useful information. Did you find anything?”
I don’t press her any further about her father and welcome the shift in focus. “Her name is Bellamy. She worked in Darinthe Manor. She was able to confirm Kainan’s exact location inside. We got him, Calla. He’s here, in a prison cell somewhere." I pause. "It’s not over, though. He’s got a lot of allies.”
“I know,” she says, hardly reacting to the information on Kainan’s capture. “Helkyn is one of them. But we have something—someone—bigger to worry about.”
∞∞∞
The cavernous Council Hall is cold, a sharp contrast to the blazing heat of late summer on the surface. Calla, who usually radiates warmth like the walking flame she is, is cold, her fingertips raising goosebumps on my arm when she accidentally brushes my skin with her clammy hands. She’s scared of something. Part of me is curious, but the rest doesn’t want to know what could possibly frighten a girl like her as much as this.
The Overseer is scratching his forehead, wheels visibly turning in his mind as he mulls over the words Calla whispered to him. No one speaks for several minutes. Fayette is the one to break the silence.