Bonds of Brass (The Bloodright Trilogy #1) - Emily Skrutskie Page 0,127
from hurling yourself past a point of no return.
The head’s eyes gain a savage glint the moment Gal’s strategy clicks for him, and it triples the churn in my stomach. Does it even matter how much it tore Gal up to think of this? Divorced from his moral crisis, the plan is nothing but annihilation. The planetary defenses will cleave the Archon attack in half. Every single one of Iral’s expectations will lead to his bloody ruin. The brutal mechanics of Gal’s mind are laid bare, separate from his heart.
His mother will be proud.
It takes nearly an hour. The time stretches even longer as frantic aides burst into the room with updates on the approaching Archon fleet. The head waves them off, intent on hearing the entirety of Gal’s plan. My throat goes raw from explaining, and my eyes start to ache from squinting at the datapad.
But then a new aide bursts into the room, and no matter how many dismissive waves the academy head flaps in her direction, she won’t be turned away. “Sir,” the girl insists. There’s something in her voice that steals mine, and when I go silent, the head finally turns to her.
“What is it?” he snaps, exasperated.
“New orders, sir. From the system governor.”
“Tell Berr sys-Tosa that I’m in the middle of saving his miserable capital.”
“That’s the thing,” the aide stammers. “Berr sys-Tosa’s retreating to the inner worlds. He’s ceded Rana to the Archon forces.”
The world’s dropped away beneath me. Blank, nihilistic fear washes out my thoughts. Everything we worked for—every plan, every sleepless night, every stress that’s been eating Gal alive, every hope we had of stopping this war in its tracks—all for nothing.
The governor’s surrendered.
CHAPTER 27
THE ACADEMY HEAD stands up abruptly, snatching his datapad.
“The plan,” I stammer. “It’ll still work. There’s still time.”
But the head’s back is already turned. He sweeps toward the door, eyes lost in his datapad. I try to follow, but he holds up a hand. “You stay in this room,” he says, eyes narrowed.
The brunt of his suspicion hit like a Viper at full speed. His least favorite student appeared out of nowhere, tied up his time with a useless battle plan, baited him with vague promises of saving him from the imperials’ wrath, and claimed to have come directly from the fleet invading us. I wouldn’t trust it either.
“Wait until you’re called on.” With that, he slams the door and clicks the lock in place, leaving me staring at my panicked reflection in the mirror that’s not just a mirror.
I lunge across the room and try to jam down the door’s handle. “Please,” I shout, the metal throwing my voice back at me, ringing in my ears. “I can get in contact with Gal—I can find him. We have to protect the heir.”
Gal’s trapped in that Beamer with Wen at the helm, stuck squarely between a planet that’s forsaken him and an army that will tear him to shreds if they discover what he is. I don’t know if Wen ditched the skipships on her tail. I don’t know if she continued to follow orders after I leaped out the back of the Ruttin’ Hell.
I never should have left him alone.
A few more rattles of the door handle confirm that no one’s listening. No one’s on the other side, or if they are, they aren’t doing a damn thing to help me, no matter how much I shake the door and shout promises through it.
I catch myself in the mirror, wild and white-eyed. Be calm. Be rational. I lash out, kicking the table. Pain snaps through my toes, and I realize too late that it’s bolted down. As the agony settles into a dull ache, I let it focus me.
Think. Think. You’ve crawled through worse. The Cutters. The dreadnoughts. Twenty Vipers on our tail. The fall of Trost, when my world was reduced to rubble and ash, and still I made it out alive.