ashen city (Black Tiger Series Book 2)

by Sara Baysinger

  “Well, yeah, but—”

  I whirl around and stalk outside. I don’t know where I’m going until I see the barn in the distance. The only building in the orchard that was left untouched by the flames. I remember seeing Maggie in there, but I was too caught up in finding Dad and Elijah that I hardly paid her any attention. I quicken my pace into a full sprint, ignoring Forest’s calls behind me. When I enter, I’m greeted by Maggie’s snort. I race to her corral. Tears threaten to blind me again, but I blink them back. No breaking down now. I need to make a plan. Quick.

  Titus made a mistake sticking his nose in my business. Because before, I was going to take my time thinking about how to take him down. I was going to let him rule a little longer, let him sit on his comfortable throne and stuff his face with food a few weeks more. But now I don’t want to waste another day before another victim is burned in his sick games.

  He needs to be dethroned, like, yesterday.

  But how can I reach him? The capitol building is well guarded with Defenders and cameras. And it would take me a full day to walk to Frankfort. Unless I took Forest up on his offer and went back with him in his fancy Patrician car…but that would prove useless. If he knows I’m out to get Titus, he would do everything in his power to stop me. Aren’t they friends? Best friends? I can’t believe I trusted him.

  What I wouldn’t give to have the Resurgence show up right about now. I’d walk right beside Walker and storm into Titus’s office. I’d do whatever the Resurgence asked if it meant taking Titus down.

  Even if it meant losing my life in the process.

  “Ember?” Forest stumbles into the barn, his breaths coming quick and heavy like he was running.

  “Get out of here, Forest!” I throw Maggie’s brush at him.

  He ducks and raises his hands in defense. “I swear, I have nothing to do with this. Let me help you.”

  “If you want to help, then stay away from me!”

  He winces, and I catch a glimpse of the same hurt I saw the day I refused him as an escort. The same hurt when he admitted how corrupt the government was.

  I want to make changes, he’d said.

  Can I believe him? Can I believe anyone?

  No. Never trust a politician. Never trust a Patrician. Rain betrayed me and Forest is lying to me. Judah was right about everything.

  And now Judah is dead.

  “All the people I held closest are dead,” I say, my voice wavering. “Leaf. Judah. Mom. Possibly Dad and Elijah. And they are dead by the government’s hand. You work for that government. So unless you step down from your position of a politician, then I want nothing from you.”

  “I would be useless if I stepped down,” Forest says. His eyes are blue icicles, his temper clearly rising. “I can do more to help change the government in my position just below Titus, than I’d be able to do if I stepped down. You know that.”

  Change the government. He doesn’t care about changing the shoddy government.

  “Get. Out.” I speak slowly, enunciating every word. “Get. Off. My. Father’s. Property.” Even as I speak the words, I know Forest has every right to correct me, remind me that this property belongs to the government. To him. But he doesn’t. He just stands there and stares at me pleadingly, and I want so badly to trust him, but I know that I can’t. Not as long as he’s a shoddy politician.

  Not as long as he’s friends with Titus.

  I spin around, take Maggie’s harness, and strap it on. Then I grab a wool sack and fill it with oats.

  “What are you doing?” Forest asks.

  I pull a small machete from a nail where it hangs and shove it in my belt, then leap on Maggie’s bare back and steer her out of the barn.

  “If you plan on getting revenge, you can forget it.” Forest’s voice is laced with warning. “The city is well guarded. They’ll see you coming through the cupola.” He grabs Maggie’s reins, stopping us, and glares at me. “And if Titus suspects you want to harm him, he will have you killed on the spot.”

  I rip the reins from Forest’s hands. “If he wanted me dead, he would have burned me with the orchard. Or finished me off on the Rebels Circle. Titus sees me as a threat and he hates me for it. And for some reason I don’t understand, he wants to keep me alive. I’m determined to find out what exactly these reasons are. I’m going to figure out what his beef with me is. I’m going to settle this. Once. And. For. All.” I jerk Maggie’s reins from Forest’s grip. “And if I die, so be it. Not like there’s much to live for in this shoddy country, anyway.” I nudge Maggie in the ribs, goading her into a full canter.

  “Ember!” Forest calls.

  I ignore him.

  “Ember!”

  Ignore the way his voice tugs at my heart. Look ahead. Focus on one goal, one plan that, even through death, will bring me infinite peace of mind.

  Revenge.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The ride to Frankfort takes longer than I’d anticipated. I avoid the interstate and maneuver through the maze of back roads toward the cupola. It takes half the day just to reach the edge of Frankfort. I didn’t pack any food for myself, just oats for Maggie, and now I’m really feeling it. Dizziness, pounding head, the fist of hunger clenching deep in my stomach until it’s almost painful. Too bad I don’t have a phoneband. I could call Rain and have him bring me food. But he probably wouldn’t listen to the plea of a pathetic farmer. Especially after he tried to have me killed. I refused his offer to assassinate Titus, and Rain hates me now. I doubt he’ll suddenly want me to work with him.

  I’m completely alone.

  When I cross through the dome, spring weather greets me like the warm embrace of an evil stepmother. I take off my coat. As I travel deeper into the heart of the capitol, the streets become more populated, the buildings tall, glass, and beautiful. I’m greeted with curious stares from pedestrians. I must be making a sight, wearing cotton pants and wool shirt, riding a rumpled old pack horse down the street. What will Whitcomb do when he hears that I’m riding a horse into the city? Will he send his Defenders after me? Have me killed? Will he invite me to the capitol building and apologize for what happened? Or will he take zero responsibility for his actions?

  It’s dusk by the time I reach the street where my hotel is. The restaurants and stores are lit up, alive with people like they always are at this late hour. Does Frankfort ever stop partying?

  The people gaze at me curiously as I pass by, their fedoras and caps tipped over their eyes and beer bottles lining their tables. Do they recognize me? Without my toga on or my hair curled or makeup coating my face like a mask, do they know who I am? They must not, because they just stare like I’m some sort of imposter. They don’t even wave. No women flock to my side with questions like they did at the picnics. No men ask me if I have an escort.

  And then I realize they don’t recognize me. And that’s actually an incredibly good thing. Because then Titus won’t get word that I’m here. And I’ll have the element of surprise tomorrow when he comes gallivanting down the street in the parade. So when more people notice me on my horse, I decide, I should probably get away from their gaping stares before any of them do recognize me.

  I nudge Maggie in the ribs and mumble, “Giddy-up.” She takes off through the streets. I hear claps and hoots and hollers behind me, and a smile eases on my face. Just like the Patricians to enjoy a show. And for once, I don’t mind the attention.

  I race on the sidewalk. Pedestrians leap out of my way. But after a while, Maggie slows down, her breaths coming quick and fast, like my own. We need to get to water. We pass the hotel. When we arrive at the park, I steer her down a trail. We pass the Community Building, a hole still blown in the side, and I remember how I was painting that tiger lily just before it blew up. Rain rescued me from the debris.

  I wonder if he regrets that decision.

  We arrive at the stream, hidden by brush and trees, and I tie Maggie to a branch, then sit down and lean against the trunk to make a plan.

  Tomo
rrow morning is the annual New Year parade. Titus will be in it. This will be the easiest way to approach him––in public. I’ve been gone for two whole weeks, but if everyone expects me to be in the parade, then I’ll be there. Just not in the submissive, passive way Titus expects. Although, after he burned down my orchard, he can’t possibly expect me to be in the parade. What about Forest? Will he be in the parade, as expected? Or will he refuse on my account?

  Forest. I wish I knew whether or not to trust him. He seems determined to help me. Too determined. Considering how rude I’d been to him in the past. Ruder than I’d ever been to anyone. And still, he stayed with me all night, had Rain bring me food, comforted me. How much of it was real and how much was orchestrated by Titus?

  Eventually my thoughts become blurry from overthinking everything, and I doze off into a fitful sleep.

  A dream comes to me. I’m standing in the prison arena. Judah stands beside me with a dagger in hand, his stance ready to take on anything that comes at him. And when I look ahead, I see why. A black tiger saunters toward us. He runs faster and faster, then leaps in the air, his paws stretched out, long claws glinting in the light, ready to mangle us.

  I crouch, ready to take him on, but he pounces onto Judah, knocking him to the ground. And there’s blood. Blood everywhere. I race to Judah’s side, but when I turn him over, it’s not Judah’s face I see.

  It’s Elijah’s.

  I jolt awake, my heartbeat pounding in my jugular. Beads of sweat collect on my forehead. The sun is shining. Birds chirp in the branches above me, and Maggie chomps too close to my ear. I’m hidden in the brush of the park, deep enough that those on the streets can’t see Maggie.

  The blare of trumpets sounds down the street. The parade. I sit up and peek through the leaves of a nearby bush. The procession has already begun. And I almost missed it. Standing, I dust the grass and leaves off my clothes and stuff my machete into my baggy cotton pants where no one can see it, hiding the handle beneath my shirt. Then I walk along the shadows of the park toward the parade.

  So many Patricians crowd on the streets when I arrive. It’s almost impossible to weave through them. Children race out to the street. Loud music and cheers fill the air. I walk along the edge of the crowd until I reach the building across the street from my hotel. There’s an alley to hide in until the parade comes.

  Trumpets blare, louder this time. A group of Ky’s best musicians makes its way down the street. Behind them, Defenders march in perfect form, their traditional red uniforms bright in the sunlight and their square hats perfectly crooked. Farther down the street, the float carrying the chief comes into sight. My heart pounds. This is it. My chance. My only chance to figure out what exactly Titus wants from me. And to find out where he’s keeping Dad and Elijah. To find out everything I need to know before I kill him.

  I grip my machete, my hand trembling. The handle is wet in my sweaty palm as I begin to slide it out of its sheath.

  “Well, lookie lookie. If it isn’t the little apple-picker herself.”

  I freeze at the sound of Rain’s voice. Apprehension races up my spine, and I shove the machete back into its sheath and slowly turn around.

  “Didn’t think I’d find you around these parts,” Rain says, his hallmark smirk in place. His newsboy cap is askew, as always, and auburn hair falls into his gray eyes.

  I glance at his three-legged tiger behind him, then back at Rain.

  “Rain,” I whisper. Something strong—that I don’t quite understand—stirs inside me at the sight of him. I want to embrace him. I want to punch him and never speak to him again. I swallow hard, not really sure which emotion to cling to. Last I saw him was after our little meeting in the church. And that didn’t end too well. He tried to have me killed right after.

  And then he saved me.

  He grins mockingly and lifts his flask in greeting. His flask that has peppermint tea, not whiskey, depending on his mood.

  “You’re welcome,” he says.

  “Welcome?” I choke out. “For what, exactly? Trying to get me killed?”

  “For clearing your records.”

  “You owed it to me.”

  He snorts. “I owe you nothing.”

  “Then why did you save me?”

  He grins. “I didn’t really want to see my favorite Patrician die.”

  Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Your favorite Patrician?”

  “Hey, you’re the only Patrician whose brain isn’t completely stuffed with cotton.”

  I wince. “That’s because I’m not a Patrician.”

  “Whatever. So what’s the plan?”

  “What plan?”

  “Oh, come on,” he says. “I think we all know Titus is the one who burned down your precious orchard.”

  “So you think it was him, too?” Hope weaves into my soul that someone agrees with me.

  “Well, of course,” Rain says. “Forest told me all about how it went up in flames and burned in minutes. A fire like that had to be set up. And who else would make such a dramatic statement other than our beloved chief?”

  “My thoughts exactly,” I mutter. Forest seemed so convinced that it wasn’t Titus. At least he acted convinced.

  “So let me ask again,” Rain says, stepping closer. “What’s the plan?”

  “I don’t…really have…a plan.” I chew my lip, look down the street at Titus’s jeep that’s quickly approaching. “I guess I’m hoping the actions I need to take will come naturally, and everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to.”

  He barks out a laugh. “Who are you, God?”

  I look at him.

  “You’re just hoping everything will turn out the way it’s supposed to?” he asks. “Seriously?”

  It’s suddenly hard to breathe, now that I realize just how ridiculous I sound.

  “And how exactly is it supposed to turn out?” Rain asks.

  “I’ll find out where my Dad and brother are,” I say. “If Titus doesn’t comply, or if he killed them, then I…will kill…him.” I shrug, the plans becoming more solid in my head while I speak them aloud. “Then I will leave Ky forever. That’s the plan.” I don’t know why I bother telling Rain my plan. Not like I can trust him any more than I can trust Forest. Rain just has a way of drawing every thought out of my head.

  “Hm.” He takes a drink from his flask and leans his hip against the wall, staring at the procession as it goes by. “Mm-k. Sounds like a good plan.” He looks at me. “Except that Titus will be heavily defended by, um, Defenders. Oh, and they have guns. All you have is….” His eyes roam down my body. “What do you have? You’re completely unarmed. Unless you have some hidden army.” He lifts a mischievous brow and leans in close. “Did you bring the Resurgence with you?” I shove him away, making liquid slosh out of his flask. He takes a dramatic step back, lifting his arms in mock defense. “Hey, just asking.”

  “I told you, I don’t even know them.”

  He laughs and regains his balance. “All right, all right. So how do you plan to approach the chief?”

  Down the street, past the line of Defenders and band members, I see the chief seated in a jeep that’s completely surrounded by Defenders, Defenders who have been manipulated, to keep him safe.

  “I guess I’ll get him the only way I can.”

  “Which is…?”

  “March right up to his car and pretend to be a part of the procession.”

  “Oh. Yeah. That’ll be easy.” His sarcasm doesn’t go unnoticed.

  “Do you think he’s going to arrest me in front of all my fans? If he kills me, he will be upsetting the very people he’s out to please. The Patricians don’t like violence, and last I heard, all of Ky loves me. I am royalty, after all. They will lose it if Titus kills his own long-lost sister.”

  “Clever girl. There’s just one teensy problem. The chief has someone playing your part.” He offers a mock-sorry smile. “The people won’t even know who you are.”

  Someone playing my part?r />
  I smirk and roll my eyes. “I’ve been on their TV screens, Rain. They’ll know who I am when they hear me speak.”

  He shrugs. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. So you’ll march up to his car, and then what?”

  “I’ll ask him where my family is. And if he refuses to comply, then I’ll kill him.” I pull my machete out just enough for him to see. “With this.”

  His gives out a low whistle. “Where did you get that?”

  “We used it in the orchard.”

  The trumpets grow louder as the chief’s car draws closer.

  “The Defenders will be expecting you, you know,” Rain says. “Whether or not you get to the chief first, you will most likely be killed. Plus there’s that look-alike I warned you about.” He frowns. “You really did pick an awful time to kill Titus—in front of all his beloved Patricians and surrounded by brainless Defenders.”

  I chew my lip. He’s right, of course. The Patricians won’t like me killing Titus any more than they will like him killing me.

  “I don’t know when I’ll get another chance like this,” I say.

  “Have you ever killed anyone in cold blood, Ember?”

  I swallow and look at him. No. No I haven’t, is what I don’t tell him.

  “Didn’t think so.”

  He knows me too well.

  “You do realize there’s a ninety-percent chance that you’ll be killed, yes?” he asks, his lips thinning.

  I nod.

  “You really don’t value your life, do you?”

  I let out a shaky breath. “Everything I valued––my best friend, my family, my home––is gone.”

  His eyes fill with something. Sorrow? Compassion? Empathy? No way. This is Rain. And Rain only cares about himself.

  But he releases a tragic sigh. “Yes,” he says. “Yes, everything you love is gone. And it’s a shame someone like you would be so eager to give up so…quickly.” His words catch me off guard. Someone like me? He drags his hand across the back of his neck. “I just don’t understand why you would throw your life away in blind anger, when I offered you a chance to work with me to do the exact same thing you’re attempting.” He glances at me. “We can still do it, you know. And actually be successful.”