Broken Throne - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,117

takes us above most of Ascendant, the city already shadowed by the shortening days. Lights pinprick the mountainside below, some moving back and forth, marking the major roads. The lake at the base of the city reflects it all like another sky, deep blue with yellow and red stars. We move slowly, letting my parents and siblings go ahead. I catch them staring at the surroundings as I am. We forgot how beautiful it was here, in an impossible city in an impossible country.

As much as I want to stop and take it all in, I have to focus more on my breathing than anything else. The electricity pulsing through the city is more than I’ve felt in months, even when we were caught beneath a passing thunderstorm. It taps at my senses, begging to be let in. Instead of shutting out the sensation, I let it flow through me, down to my toes. This is something the electricons taught me, months ago in another country, in what feels like another life. It’s easier to flow than fight.

Kilorn watches me the entire time, green eyes dancing. I don’t feel scrutinized, though. He isn’t watching to make sure I keep control. He knows I don’t need him to do that, or anyone else. I’m my own.

“So what am I walking into?” I mutter, noting the lights in the city. Some are transports, weaving among the streets. Others are windows, lamps, lanterns, flickering on as the afternoon gives way to purple dusk. How many belong to government officials or soldiers or diplomats? Visitors?

The premier’s estate is above, the same as I remember. Is he there already?

“Things are buzzing up at the premier’s,” Kilorn replies, following my gaze. “And in the People’s Assembly. I don’t live up that way anymore, got a little place down the hill in the city, but it’s hard not to notice the constant traffic going up the mountain. Representatives, mostly, their staff, some military filtering in. The Scarlet Guard mouthpieces arrived yesterday.”

What about him?

Instead a different name falls off my tongue. It tastes like relief.

“Farley.”

She’s the closest thing I have to an older sister. I immediately wonder if she’ll be up at the estate with us, or housed somewhere in the city. I hope the former, for my own sake as well as my mother’s. Mom has been dying to see baby Clara and will probably end up sleeping wherever her grandchild is.

“Yep. Farley’s already here, and already bossing everyone around. I’d take you to see her, but she’s in meetings right now.”

With the baby in her lap, no doubt, I think, remembering how Farley carted my niece into war councils. “And what’s going on over in the Lakelands? There’s still a war happening.” Here, there, everywhere. It’s impossible to ignore the threat still looming over all of us.

“On hold, more like.” Kilorn glances at me and notes my confusion. “Didn’t you read the reports Davidson sent you?”

I grit my teeth. I remember the packets, pages of typed information that arrived at the cabin every week. Dad spent more time with them than I did. Mostly I scanned for familiar names. “Some.”

He smirks at me, shaking his head. “You haven’t changed at all,” he says with some pride.

Yes I have, I want to reply. I cannot even begin to list all the ways I have changed, but I let it go. I’ve only just arrived. I can give Kilorn a little time before I inundate him with my problems.

He doesn’t allow me a chance to wallow.

“Basically, yes, we’re still at odds.” He holds out a hand, ticking off names on his fingers. “Lakelands and Piedmont against the Republic, the Guard, and the new Nortan States. But we’re in a standoff for the moment. The Lakelands are still regrouping after Archeon, Piedmont isn’t willing to strike alone, and the Nortan States aren’t in any position to pursue or go on the offensive for now. We’re all on the defensive, waiting for the other side to make a move.”

I picture a map of the continent as we walk, with pieces upon it set in motion. Lines of division clearly drawn, armies waiting to march. Waiting, waiting, waiting. Somehow, up at the cabin, I could pretend that the rest of the world was moving on too. Recovering from the violence as I was. If I ignored the reports, avoided news from the south and east—it might just all come together without me. A sliver of me thought the war would end

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