Half-Born (Half-Blood Chronicles #1) (The Half-Blood Chronicles)

by Ivy Baum

  Something big was about to go down. I considered the ladder again. Everyone’s attention was on the Council Dais.

  House Karpathos smiled uncertainly. “Perhaps if we could clear this up and get on with business…”

  Atameus ignored their exchanged. He gazed icily at his son. “You have no place in the Assembly. Leave us.”

  Lucan shot a sly look at House Karpathos. “But these wise strategoi have invited me here.”

  “We are in the middle of a crisis. Your report will have to wait.” Atameus seemed to have regained his composure.

  The audience, having gotten over its shock, was growing restless.

  Someone called out, “Is he Tacitus or not?” Other soon echoed the cry.

  Lucan gestured toward the packed Arena. “Clearly, these people want me to stay.”

  Atameus’s face was expressionless. “These theatrics are beneath you. If you with to discuss something with me, then we will take it up in my private chambers. But this needs to end.”

  “Yes, you’ve always been eager to hustle me out of the limelight, haven’t you?” Lucan’s voice was abruptly cold.

  The murmurs of the crowd had grown to a dull roar.

  Telemon had abandoned his post for the Council Dais. Now he stood next to Atameus, as though in solidarity.

  He addressed Lucan almost formally. “No more games. Why are you here?”

  Lucan smiled, as though remembering his audience. “I’m here to purge this place of stale blood. To make way for a glorious future.”

  The man with the silver braid leaned forward. He addressed Lucan in a voice that was low and accusing. “Tacitus.”

  Lucan inclined his head. A tiny gesture—but it seemed to send shock waves through the Arena.

  Atameus looked at him with disgust. “So it’s true.”

  Telemon leaned in and murmured something.

  Whatever he said made Atameus shake his head.

  Now he regarded his son with an icy smile.

  There was a reason Atameus had held onto power this long. He was cool-headed, even now.

  He gestured for Lucan to take the floor. “Go ahead, Tacitus. Tell us what you wish to accomplish with your mongrel group.”

  Lucan raised his head.

  He’s ready for this.

  He shifted his stance. He was addressing the Assembly now, not his father. “What I offer is the chance to reclaim our birthright. We are the Noble Race. We are the world’s natural rulers. But we don’t rule, do we? We squabble amongst ourselves and hide from the powerless.”

  Every eye was on Lucan.

  Now’s your chance. I edged toward the platform and positioned myself above the ladder.

  Atameus said, “And what would the future look like if you got your way? People tire quickly of upheaval and uncertainty. And they are unforgiving of the revolutionary whose rhetoric turns out to be nothing more than empty promises.”

  “No empty promises. Not this time. I only wish to return to the old ways.”

  I began to climb down the ladder.

  Lucan, meanwhile, continued his speech. “Before the Covenants, we were free. Each Noble ruled his own territory, free from the meddling of the Assembly. The Council of Elders knew to leave well enough alone.”

  Atameus said, “Those were dark days.”

  I had forced myself to move at a painfully slow pace so as not to attract attention. But I was finally nearing the bottom.

  Lucan’s cold laugh filled the Arena. “Only for the timid. Those days, the days before the Covenants and the Assembly—they were glory days for strong men.”

  I jumped the last couple of feet to the floor. My heart was pounding from the combination of exertion and terror.

  And the promise of freedom.

  “You speak of heritage,” Atameus said, his voice dismissive. “Yet here you stand with your Unmarked lackeys. You have no respect for tradition.”

  There was some murmur of agreement from the crowd.

  Lucan was undeterred. “I have no respect for superstition.” He addressed the audience. “Save your anger for the Council that made humans our master.”

  I began to move toward the exit. Nearly every eye was trained on Lucan and Atameus.

  Lucan was on a roll now. “The Covenant of Purity was about crowd control, nothing more. The Covenant of Secrecy was simple cowardice—”

  “Blasphemy.” Atameus was finally losing his cool.

  I was making decent progress, slipping through the thick crowd unnoticed. But in the silence that followed, I felt an electric charge in the air.

  I couldn’t help it; I stopped and turned to watch the Council Dais.

  Lucan said, “The future is here whether you wish it or not. You may join us, or be swept out of the way with the rest of history’s obsolete.”

  You need to go.

  But I was mesmerized by the feeling that something big was about to happen.

  Atameus seemed poised to do something. Would he strike down his own son?

  And then what?

  “What would you do? Slaughter each and every one of us?”

  Lucan smiled. “That won’t be necessary.”

  There was a blur of motion. I saw Telemon feint sharply toward Atameus. My first thought was that he was pulling him to safety, out of Lucan’s reach—

  —Until I saw the glint of steel. In a single, fluid motion, Telemon pulled Atameus close. With his other hand, he drew a blade across his throat.

  Atameus crumpled to the floor.

  Telemon, meanwhile, was calmly wiping his knife on his robes.

  Go.

  I plunged into the crowd, no longer worried about being subtle. All that mattered was that I made it to the exit—

  Someone grabbed me from behind.

  I wrenched around, trying to see my captor. I caught a glimpse of dark, voluminous robes and a face obscured by shadow.

  A Hooded Guard.

  Chapter 61

  No, no, no.

  They couldn’t take me back. Not when I was so close.

  But try as I might, I couldn’t wrest free. The Hooded Guard held my arm in a vise-like grip.

  Except—he wasn’t taking me back to the platform. He was pulling me toward the exit.

  Taking me back to my cell.

  No. With the sudden surge of adrenaline came a rush of power opening up like a river inside me. And with no Damper in sight—

  The guard stopped. Without warning, I was pressed against his surprisingly soft robes. A voice said, close to my ear, “Power down those blasters, Kes. It’s me.”

  I gasped as I recognized Sol’s voice. “How did you—”

  “Shh. I’m going to get you out of here. Just follow my lead.”

  We were still in the thick of the crowd. All around us, the Arena was growing more violent and chaotic.

  I had slowed to look, but Sol pulled me doggedly through the crowd.

  More than once, we were nearly separated by the panicky flows of Nobles. But those who still had their wits about them gave the Hooded Guard a wide berth.

  “What’s going on?”

  I heard screams and shouting from the audience. One look at the Dais confirmed that Lucan’s Hunters had backed the Council of Elders into a corner.

  Not Hunters. Blood Right.

  Sol’s face was still obscured beneath his hood. But I heard the sarcastic smile. “Looks like the glorious half-blood revolution came earlier than we expected.”

  “Did you know this would happen? Did you know about Lucan?”

  He sounded impatient. “Did I know that my brother was going to show up at the Assembly and murder my father in cold blood? No. Though I suspected that Orikon and his faction were about to make a power play.”

  I started to ask more, but Sol pulled me forward.

  “We need to get out of here. Now, while we still can.”

  After that, he refused to talk.

  A few times, I craned my neck to see what was happening in the audience. What I
saw chilled me. Explosions, screams—people attacking one another.

  And those ceremonial swords, as it turned out, were not just for decoration.

  There was a distinct electrical tang in the air—magic.

  “They’re killing each other. Shouldn’t we—”

  I didn’t think Sol could have possibly heard me over the noise of the crowd—but he paused long enough to say, “They made their bed. It doesn’t mean we have to jump in with them.”

  We had finally fought our way to the exit. The door was unguarded.

  Only once we were out in the hall did Sol pull back his hood.

  “There are more of them coming,” he said.

  “Blood Right?”

  He nodded. “The Wall is down. We have to get out of here.”

  I frowned. “The wall?”

  “Not an actual wall,” he said. “It’s a perimeter maintained by a score of highly-trained Warders. If the Wall’s down, it means someone took them out.”

  “As in killed?”

  “Or otherwise disabled. Which means someone very powerful just showed up at their door, and whoever he is, he’s on Lucan’s side.”

  He pulled me toward a corridor. “Come on.”

  “Wait—where are we going?”

  “We’re getting out of the Capitol. Unless you’d rather stay.”

  I felt my steps slow. “But then what? What do we do after—”

  “We’ll figure that out later. For now, we need to go.”

  I heard echoing shouts coming from other parts of the Capitol.

  Sol said, “I have a way out of here, but it’s rather long and convoluted, so we really need to get started now.”

  I thought about what Vissarion had told me. I’ll be waiting in the Open Gallery…

  I stopped. “Sol…I met my father. My real father, I mean. He was trying to help me.” I swallowed hard, realized that somewhere along the way, I’d made a decision. “I can’t leave without him.”

  He gazed at me, his expression unreadable. “You don’t even know the guy.”

  “I know that he doesn’t deserve to die.”

  His eyes narrowed. “The same could be said of a good portion of the purebloods who live here. Do you want to risk your life for them?”

  Once again, I felt that sense of vertigo—that I didn’t know which way was up or down, or what I was supposed to do.

  I was under no illusion that Vissarion was perfect. Or even particularly good. But in that moment, I also knew that it didn’t matter.

  I couldn’t just leave him.

  “He said he’d be waiting for news of the outcome in the Open Gallery.”

  Sol seemed to soften. “That’s not far from here.”

  And so we reversed course, and Sol took me down another corridor. Soon, we stumbled inside a waiting room—a miniature version of the Arena.

  Vissarion looked alarm as we entered, but relaxed visibly when he saw me.

  “What’s going on? Is the Wall really down?”

  Sol nodded. “Atameus is dead. Lucan took over the Assembly.”

  Vissarion was peering at Sol intently. Now, something appeared to dawn on him. “You’re his son! The one who—”

  Sol sighed. “Yes, yes. I’m a celebrity. Look, I don’t mean to be rude, but even as we speak Blood Right is invading this place, and I for one don’t plan on being here to meet our new bosses. Kes and I are getting out of here. You’re welcome to join us.”

  He broke into a grin. “Well, you don’t have to tell me twice. Lead the way.”

  Sol hadn’t been kidding about the way out being convoluted. He led us through a maze of corridors, and I was soon so turned around that I couldn’t tell whether we were any closer to getting out of the Capitol.

  Awe we rounded the final corner, Sol said, “After this, we’re home free. Well, as long as the ferryman is still taking bribes.”

  Then he stopped abruptly.

  At the other end of the corridor, a half-dozen men waited for us—blocking the exit.

  No togas, no sashes, and definitely no ceremonial swords. These guys were Blood Right.

  Sol turned to Vissarion. “I don’t suppose you’re a Striker or Pyro or something useful.”

  Vissarion smiled thinly. “Sorry. I’m a Fade.”

  I had no idea what that was, but his answer made Sol grimace.

  The men hadn’t made any move toward us—but they weren’t getting out of our way, either.

  I caught Sol’s eye. “I can do—something.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Ready?”

  I nodded. I was beyond fear, beyond second guessing.

  I would fight. That was all I knew.

  The energy was already flowing inside me.

  The group of men tensed as we approached.

  But no one struck. No one called out. They seemed to be waiting for something.

  A woman stepped out from behind them.

  She was tall, with striking red hair that had been pulled into a long braid.

  I knew right away that she wasn’t just another soldier. She carried herself with supreme confidence—and clear disdain for this place.

  Her gaze passed right over me and landed on Sol, who had gone very pale.

  In fact, he was frozen in place, staring at the woman like he couldn’t believe his eyes.

  She cocked her head, and her full lips switched into a not-quite-smile. “Sol. You haven’t joined the other side, have you?”

  Sol looked like he was seeing a ghost.

  He breathed a single word. “Melantha.”

  Chapter 62

  I felt my world turn upside-down.

  Sol said, in a wondering voice, “You’re not dead.”

  He was staring at her as though unable to comprehend what he was seeing.

  Some of the hardness melted from her face. “I’m sorry. This was the only way.”

  Sol’s eyes narrowed. “The only way to do what?”

  She shook her head. “I can’t tell you that. I’m sorry. There’s too much you don’t know.”

  Her expression had changed, and that worried me. The softness had turned to resolve.

  Whatever she had planned, Sol wasn’t about to stop her.

  And neither were we.

  Sol said, “You’re with Blood Right. You’re with him.”

  He’s talking about Lucan. This was personal.

  I mean, of course it was. Melantha had been his girlfriend.

  When she didn’t answer, his temper flared. “Tell me it’s not true, then.”

  She sighed. “I thought I’d be ready for this moment....”

  “The Melantha I knew would never be somebody’s lackey.”

  She glanced at one of her men. “Go find him. Tell him we’ve got a situation.”

  The man took off down the hall.

  Sol gazed at her. His voice was suddenly soft. “I could kill you. Right here.”

  “Yes. And then one of my Strikers would take out her.”

  Sol’s expression didn’t change, but I saw Melantha’s eyes narrow, as though she were seeing something I couldn’t.

  She smiled sadly. “Oh, Sol. You never could resist a damsel in distress.”

  Sol gestured back toward the Arena. “They’re slaughtering them in there, Melantha…”

  Her face grew stony. “It’s a change of power. And a necessary one.”

  “It’s a bloodbath.”

  This, finally, seemed to touch a nerve. “And since when do I care about the fate of a bunch of purebloods? They deserve everything they get.”

  “Not every pureblood has blood on his hands.”

  She shrugged. “No, I suppose not. But that hardly matters now.”

  “Help me understood why you’re doing this.”

  “I wish I could. It’s just…” She shook her head. “Everything you know about the Sources is wrong…”

  Her gaze went to somewhere behind us.

  Lucan had arrived.

  He took in Sol’s Hooded
Guard robes with a smirk. “Change of profession, brother?”

  Sol didn’t answer.

  Lucan’s gaze landed on me. “You again! Shouldn’t you be in school or something?”

  I found, to my surprise, that my fear had been replaced by anger.

  I glared at him. “You used me.”

  “And you told everyone my big secret. So we’re even.” He cocked his head, studying me in a way that made my skin crawl. “How did you find out? It would be extremely helpful if I knew which loose-lipped moron to kill.”

  I almost wanted to smile. “It was something you said.”

  “Well, now I’m curious.”

  “Your quote. The gods are on the side of the stronger. Tacitus said it first.”

  He looked surprised—then chagrined. “That’s it? That’s an awfully big supposition.”

  I smiled. “If you were really a Hunter, you’d have killed me when you had the chance.”

  “True.” Lucan cocked his head. “I suppose my reputation precedes me.”

  Sol said, “But you couldn’t resist coming after me.”

  Lucan turned to him. “Actually, you were part of the plan.”

  Even Melantha looked surprised at this.

  Lucan said, “Sometimes you just have to know how to make an entrance. And what better way to make a grand entrance than to show up at the Capitol with you? I would have been heaped with praise.” His smile dropped. “Instead, I was upstaged by my own brother.”

  I frowned. “But you sent your men after me. Not Hunters, but Blood Right.”

  “You, my dear, would have been a bit of a distraction—and I needed all the attention on me. As it turned out, though, you gave me the perfect opening. Naming me right there in the Assembly! Well, that was a bit of theater I couldn’t resist.”

  He definitely liked being the center of attention—but sooner or later, he was going to get tired of talking and just kill us.

  I started to gather my energy. But Sol stepped forward, hands raised. “You got what you want. The Capitol is yours. Now…let us leave.”

  Lucan cocked his head as though he hadn’t quite heard right.

  But Sol was serious. “We have no business with you. And you have none with us.”

  Lucan pursed his lips. “Now, what fun would that be? You’re certainly not going to impress her that way.”