by H M Angues
“Move,” she commands, dragging me by the hand from my fixated position. We all follow her to the elevator, up to level one, and out of Ragnar Prison.
Waiting for us outside the massive doors is an army of Rorani men and women. Ramsey stands in front of them all, but something in her stance falters at the sight of the once-dead emperor.
“Surprised?” Calla flashes a hateful smirk at the tyrant who now controls her beloved Namari.
Ramsey, usually so eloquent and graceful despite her bitchiness, is speechless. She stumbles over a few words before angrily muttering, “I’ll kill you with my own hands next time.”
The hateful ruler disappears behind her troops as they open fire on our company.
Calla, eyes flashing a shimmery silver shade, deflects the bullets, the metal freezing in thin air just a few yards from our faces. Realizing its uselessness, they cease their fire. Without so much as a menacing glare in their direction, Calla launches each of the bullets back at them, standing stoically still in the clearing. Dozens fall when the bullets explode through their bodies.
She slowly raises her arms from her sides, a wall of flame encircling us like a protective cage. Born from the fire, a dragon-shaped entity snakes upward. The flame-animal lunges at the nearest soldiers, burning a few to crisps and merely singeing others. The remaining try to take aim again, but their bullets fail to reach us like before.
I can see the beads of sweat dripping from her temple. Calla makes it seem so effortless but defending us is taking its toll. Her strength won’t last forever.
She knows it, too. She kills her flames and sends out a final blow: A gust of relentless wind, knocking several men on their asses. Finally, they begin to retreat into the woods in a fearful frenzy.
Drained, Calla turns to us. To me. To Ryse. And starts walking in the direction of our hoverjet, where the rest of our group awaits.
∞∞∞
Once we’re deep in the woods, she finally slows down. The rest continue on when she urges them, while she, Ryse and I fall back behind the company.
Ryse grabs her wrist, yanking her around to face him. “What the fuck, Cal?” he snaps.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t. It was too risky.”
“You let me believe he’d killed you.”
“I couldn’t tell you the truth, Ry, no matter how badly I wanted to. You know what Ramsey can do better than anyone. If you knew, she would find out and just kill me herself. Besides, your brother didn’t do anything to me. It was all Ramsey, remember that.”
“You didn’t even tell me,” I add. They both snap their heads around, probably having forgotten I was even there.
“If I couldn’t tell Ryse, how would I have been able to tell you? I’m sorry, both of you. I really am.”
She’s right, but it doesn’t completely ease my roiling emotions. Without saying a word, I spin around and stomp back to the hoverjet. I glance over my shoulder to see Calla and Rysen following close behind.
Cal’s favoring her left leg. Heavily. The leg Kainan shattered in the Arena. He may not be guilty, but I can’t entirely bury that twinge of anger I feel at knowing what Ramsey made him do. The image is still him doing it, after all, and not her.
She’d had a slight limp before, from the injuries she sustained back on the battlefield where she lost her father. It wasn’t nearly as severe, though, and was hardly noticeable. But now, because of him, it’s much, much worse.
I can’t help the tears that well in my eyes, but I stay silent and focus on the good instead. She’s here. She’s alive. And based on what I witnessed in the prison, she’s spent the last year mastering her other abilities. Not only is Calla alive and well, she’s better, and even more kick ass than before.
I’m still mad that she didn’t tell me, but gods, do I love her.
“You’re always such a baby with your little fits, you know,” Calla teases, catching up to me. She wraps her fingers around my wrist. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” She glances at Rysen. “Alone.”
Rysen continues on ahead, and once he's far enough away, Calla jumps into my arms. I stumble, almost falling on my ass. She holds fast, her arms noosed around me, her face buried in my neck. “I missed you so much.”
I bite back tears and hug her back, holding my arms tight around her. “I missed you too.”
I set her back down onto her feet. She grabs my face in her hands. “I never got to really reunite with you after she took you from me. It's been too long. And I like the short hair,” she adds, reaching up to run her fingers through the black curls. Almost as black and as curly has her own. “The bit of beard, too. It makes you look like more of a man.
I narrow my eyes in mock insult. “I'll have you know that I was always a man, Your Majesty. I am older than you, after all.”
She only smiles in response, rubbing her thumb over my cheek. I lean into her touch, closing my eyes.
“I was such a stupid girl,” she murmurs. I open my eyes, but before I can ask what she means by that, she's walking away. As I watch her leave, I take a moment before following her to the jets. My chest aches, but not with heartbreak. With overwhelming joy and relief. Calla is alive.
The emperor is alive.
Chapter 29
Rysen
Calla tries to slip through Jurynn unnoticed. The Overseer, apparently, already knows she’s alive and in the city, but she doesn’t want to deal with everyone else’s surprise and infinite questions. She even avoids Bellamy entirely. She can’t escape me and my curiosity, though.
Every time I start to ask her something as we walk, she silences me with a loud shush.
“Not now,” she says as we head to her apartment in the Underground city.
Her space is much larger than the standard apartments we’re given. She has a separate bedroom, a full-sized kitchen, a living room furnished with a telescreen and two old leather couches, as well as a dining table for four. Not to mention, a full bathroom, located off her bedroom, and a walk-in closet. Though, the closet is nowhere near as grand as the one she had in the imperial palace.
Calla stretches her arms above her head as she tosses her apartment keys on the table. A plain black shirt and leggings are all that she wears. Death doesn’t change one’s wardrobe much, it seems.
“Sit down,” Calla says, gesturing to one of the sofas. She takes the empty space beside me, propping her feet up and leaning against the armrest. “I know you have a lot of questions, but I’m not ready. This day has been hard and seeing Kainan...”
“Back there, in the prison,” I interrupt, “did you... did you kill him?”
She shakes her head. “The voltage wasn’t strong enough to kill any of them, just knock them out long enough for us to get out and for Jed to come get him.”
“You should have fried them all,” I grumble. She falls silent, her eyes drifting off to some unknown place.
“I know you don’t want to answer many questions right now, but you will eventually, won’t you?” I can’t hide the hint of anger at her and try to shove it down. I don’t want to be mad, but she let me suffer for a little over a year.
“I understand that you’re mad and confused. I will explain, just not right this moment.”
I nod and say, “Okay.”
“For now, just know that I had to do it.”
She stands, moving into the small kitchen, stretching her hands above her head to reach the coffee mugs, a sliver of skin on her back revealed as her shirt rides up.
Scarred skin. The lashes and beatings she took in Ragnar must have left behind some disgusting marks. Probably a few from my brother’s brutal attack on her as well. Not only will she have a limp, but her skin is marred.
What has he done to her?
I feel her amber gaze boring into me. I raise my head to meet it. “It’s not his fault, Rysen.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I watched him kill you. Hurt you.” I rise to my feet, splaying my hands out
on the counter. My face feels hot, tears welling in my eyes. “But that was after I already learned who it was you really loved.”
“I won't have this conversation. Not now, and not with you. That's the end of it, do you hear me?” Her hardened stare could cut through stone, but I make sure not to even flinch.
“Is it because you want to continue to whore yourself between the three of us? Oh, yeah, I know about the nights you shared a bed with Blade.” I ignore the hurt look on her face and close the space between us. I stand over her, towering, pinning her against the kitchen counter.
“That was different. It was comforting, and we slept, nothing more. But I shouldn't even have to answer to you. Your apparent feelings for me don't mean that I owe you any explanations.”
“Who gets to be next in line to share your bed, Calla? Me? Kainan?” I can feel the heat rising from her skin, like standing over a furnace. Black wisps seem to steam off her skin. Unsettling, but not unsettling enough to make me back down.
“Step back, Rysen Dane, or I will make you.”
I do as she bids, taking a single step back, folding my arms across my chest. “I already know what games you're playing. You'll string all three of us along, like your own little pets. And Blade and Kainan will be stupid enough to follow. I'm smarter than them, though, and I will have you to myself.” I move toward the door. “If you decide to fuck my brother, just remember that he killed you and your grandmother. Maybe that will close up your legs.”
Calla doesn’t even flinch. Her expression is that of battle-hardened steel, her stance made to match. “He’s innocent, Rysen,” is her only response as she all but ignores every other word I had said.
“Then why is he locked up?”
“Because Jed and the people don’t trust him.”
“Of course you trust him, though.” Without another word, I storm out of her apartment, slamming the door behind me. As soon as I get back to my own, I pass out on the couch, too exhausted to deal with my own anger and frustration.
∞∞∞
When I wake up the next morning, I get out of bed and throw on my jeans.
I stomp out of my apartment and back to hers, opening the door to see her brewing three cups of coffee. One for herself, one for Blade, one for Jed, and another for Bellamy. Blade is sitting on the sofa looking anxious, same as Bellamy, while Jed sips his coffee at the dining table.
Calla hardly acknowledges my entrance. I brush her arm with my fingers as she walks past me. She looks up, and I tell her, “I’m sorry for yesterday,” hoping it will ease the tension. I don't want her to shut me out for good, and I do feel bad for some of the things I said.
Some.
“Touch me again, Rysen Dane, and you won't have any hands left to touch with,” she threatens under her breath.
Despite her hushed tone, Blade seems to still hear her words. His blue eyes are ice cold as they bore into the side of my head. Calla handing him a cup of coffee takes his attention off me, thankfully. “I’m still furious with you,” he says as he takes a careful sip. “But damn it, am I so happy you’re here.”
Calla sits at his side. I choose to remain standing near the door, keeping my distance.
When she moves her arms, her shirt sleeves slip to reveal more scars. They must cover everything from her shoulders, to upper arms, to the entirety of her back. Blade takes notice, frozen as he stares.
All I can think about are how my brother caused some of those scars, that limp. How it was her sacrificing herself for them that got her those lashings. I was never brought into that room, never one of the reasons Calla offered herself up for lashings. And I sure as hell wasn't stupid enough to get myself captured, or slay her in the Arena.
She rests a hand on Blade's arm, looking between him and her sister. “I’m ready to tell you what happened. You deserve an explanation,” she says, not even glancing in my direction. I don't find the exclusion a coincidence; Calla has no interest in telling me what's been going on for the last year. “But first,” she continues, “there’s something you need to know.” She turns her head toward the door that leads to her bedchamber and calls, “You can come in now.”
The squeal that comes out of Bellamy's throat is such a high pitch, I doubt it's human.
Chapter 30
Calla
One Year Ago
I suck in a gulp of air, my lungs burning. I don't know if I had been breathing, but logically I must have been. It felt like being drenched in nothingness, except for occasional flickers of thought. Like floating through a galaxy with few stars, hoping to latch onto one.
I slowly sit upright on the rickety wooden table, clutching my heaving chest as I breathe deeply, my heart pounding beneath my sternum. A heart that shouldn't be beating, if I remember correctly.
My eyes dart around until they land on Valek standing near my feet. “Have a nice nap?” he chortles.
I shake my head at him. “What the hell happened?” I ask. I remember dying, falling to the sand before everything went dark.
“The plan happened. It went perfectly, if you ask me. Save for a few… issues.”
I twist my torso to see Jed stride arrogantly into the cramped room, which I notice is full of crates and storage containers marked Arena. “This wasn’t the plan,” I say, looking down at my torn, blood-stained shirt. My wounds have been miraculously mended, leaving thick and ugly scars in their place.
“This was our plan to save all four of you,” the burly man says, walking around the table to stand by Valek.
“You were supposed to intervene before I died and take me home. This,” I gesture with a sore arm to the cramped storage room, “isn’t home. We’re still in Helkyn. And if my memory is correct, I fucking died.”
End it. I wanted to die. I knew in that moment that they weren’t coming in time to save me. So, I had made my own plan. I wouldn’t kill Kainan, not if I had choice. And I did. I also knew that dying would give them a chance—make myself a martyr, and maybe, just maybe, give them the motivation needed to end the Uprising.
Not to mention the one real reason that made death most appealing.
Louvelle Prison.
“And you will be staying here. To master your other abilities so that when you do face Ramsey and the forces she's gathered, you will have the strength to defeat her,” Jed continues, ignoring the last bit of my frustrated outburst.
“The Arena Grand Master,” Valek says when Jed is done speaking, “has agreed to house you, keep your identity secret, and train you, with the help of the other Primori. Few have hybrid abilities, but there is at least one for every power of yours, and they will be your teachers.”
“How long?” I croak, my thoughts wandering to Ryse and Blade. To Kainan. They think I’m dead. I thought I was dead.
He thinks he killed me.
I almost vomit right there on the table.
By the look in his black eyes, I can tell Valek knows I’m worried about them. “At least a year. Could be longer,” he confesses.
“I will not abandon my empire for an entire year!” I snap. “They’ll make Kainan regent! I trust him, but the Concilium will eat him alive.”
“Kainan slaughtered the Concilium,” Jed says with solemnity. He bows his head in a moment of respect for the dead.
“What?” I grope that part of my mind that’s connected to his through the bond. There. I can’t read his thoughts like I used to, but I can sense him enough to know he’s alive. I feel him brush against my subconscious. He knows I’m not dead, then.
“Well, Ramsey slaughtered the Concilium, but he helped her get in. After the Arena, she took him, and no one heard from him until a week ago when he showed up at Stonefire,” Jed continues. “It’s possible he’s being manipulated, but it’s also possible he’s actually working against you. Personally, I don’t trust him, even if this plan of his worked.”
“His plan?” I ask, eyes darting between my adviser and Jed.
“Yes. His plan. Everything that’s happened sin
ce the Arena, however, has been unpredictable. No plan for this.”
I’ve known the Overseer since I was twelve years old. So I know when he’s not telling me the truth. I don’t believe he’d ever lie to me about anything as detrimental as this, but there’s something… else he isn’t telling me.
Valek juts in with, “High Lady Katarina informed them of the mating bond to ensure everything went smoothly. He was granted the title of regent, then Ramsey came and slaughtered the monarchs and the High Lady. Ramsey’s in power now. She sent her troops to every Province and has them completely under her control. Anyone that shows any hint of allegiance to you or the Underground is sent to Ragnar. Ryse and Blade are in Jurynn; they’re safe.”
I choke on my words. “He killed Nana Rina? How long have I been...” I begin.
“Almost two weeks,” the silver-haired Laroi says.
“You’ve kept me unconscious in a storage room... for two weeks?”
Valek chuckles and says, “No. We moved you here a couple hours ago when we were told by the healers that you would wake up soon. We didn’t want to risk you or us being spotted by Ramsey’s patrols.”
“Healers?” I ask.
“Full of questions, as I knew you would be. Vitalis. Primori healers. You possess the ability somewhere inside you, too. We were informed of the largely talented healer population here, willing to serve a Primori emperor, and that’s how we knew you would survive. Would’ve been a lot easier if it were a self-healing ability, but we aren’t that lucky. Anyhow, you weren’t quite dead, but your heart been damaged so that had slowed enough that you appeared to be. We got you here as fast as possible, and the Vitalis were able to heal you.”
Vitalis. One more to add on top of the ever-growing mount of abilities.
In normal circumstances, I’d be excited about discovering a new ability. Having more than two has never happened in a Primori before, and I have several. But the ache in my heart is too great to focus on much else.