Bonds of Brass (The Bloodright Trilogy #1) - Emily Skrutskie Page 0,22

so they’re perfect for kids new to flying and families who need a friendly, reliable transport. They’re the minivan of starships. They are not what I want to be flying when I make my escape from the academy.

“We don’t have time to be picky,” Gal urges. The shriek of the alarm sirens nearly drowns out his words.

“I’m not being picky, I’m being practical. Look, this way—” Across the hangar sits a row of sleek skipships, the kind of thing an imperial should be flying. Those ships are so athletic, armed, and armored that you could safely fly an emperor through an active battlefield in one without getting a single scratch on it. One of them has a hatch wide open, practically begging for us to take it. We just have to cross the open hangar floor.

I grab Gal’s shirt, trying to tug him along, but he plants his feet. It’s surprisingly effective, given that he’s nearly fifty pounds lighter than I am. “There isn’t time, Ettian.”

“It’s right there.”

But Gal’s eyes aren’t on the ship. I turn, following the line of his gaze, and my stomach drops. A patrol has answered the sirens’ howl. Seven soldiers sprint across the hangar, each of them carrying a rifle. They square up twenty yards away from us and lift their guns.

Gal steps in front of me.

Something transforms in him. He lifts his chin, his shoulders squaring. The mask he’s worn for two and a half years falls away. He’s no longer hiding behind terrible grades, a foul mouth, or his horrible posture. Now I see it. Iva’s blood. Yltrast’s too. The brow meant to wear a crown of obsidian and brass. The confidence that could bring entire systems to their knees. This isn’t Gal Veres, the easygoing cadet, a good shot and a terrible pilot. Here he stands, Gal emp-Umber. The Umber heir.

Stepping without hesitation between me and seven gun barrels.

“Lower your weapons,” he says.

I’ve heard this voice before. Smooth, cultured, and difficult to disobey. It’s the voice that makes him a nightmare around the drunken, the weak-willed, and basically anyone with ears. I always wondered where it came from and why he didn’t use it all the time. But this voice is a weapon, and you don’t point it lightly. And as to where it came from…

Well, it’s not exactly a mystery anymore.

The patrol hesitates. With a jolt, I realize Rhodes is among them—I forgot he was on duty tonight. His gun dips a hair lower than his fellows’.

“I’m sure your orders are to bring me in unharmed,” Gal says. “And most likely to eliminate anyone who’s with me.”

Rhodes nods helplessly before his superiors can stop him.

“But, as I’m sure you’ve noticed, I’m not being forced. Not being coerced. No one’s bundling me off in the night. I am simply…leaving.”

Someone turns off the alarm. The hangar plunges into a deathly quiet, filled only with an empty ringing and the panting breaths of nine people who don’t want to be there. I press down the urge to reach out for Gal. What happens next is entirely up to him.

“Lower your guns,” he urges. “Let us leave.”

I hold my breath as all seven barrels dip lower. Gal’s magic voice is doing its best work.

But then the woman at the center of the squad cocks her head to the side and snaps her rifle back up. Whatever’s coming into her earpiece is changing her mind, and her motion leads the rest of the patrol. “Sorry, Umber. Head’s orders,” she says.

Gal’s jaw goes taut, but he keeps his head high. “Who are you going to listen to? The academy head, or the blood that rules you?”

“The academy head is the academy head. But you’re not an emperor yet.”

Gal might be a great negotiator, but here’s where he fails. When all it takes to twist a situation are your words, you’re never good at telling when you’re beaten. This is the part where I come in.

I lunge forward and grab Gal’s collar, yanking him back and turning as the first stunner