die today,” Ashwood said.
“You sure as fire-gates do,” the voice shot back.
Ashwood sighed, and in a last attempt to stay the bloodshed, he said, “Lay down your weapons and join me. Or keep them and die.”
There was a pause.
Utter and complete silence.
The capital city of Uskhanya was alive every second, from dawn to dusk before the cycle started over, and usually a scream could barely be heard above the bastardized magic and laughter of criminals. But now Zekia could hear the birds crying out in warning and, if someone had a pin, she’d probably hear that drop too.
The speaker crackled again.
The man on the other end took a breath.
“Djefil,” he said. “Go fuck yourself.”
Ashwood sighed. He turned to Zekia. She caught a glimpse of that ghost smile somewhere in his face, and swallowed.
“We can save you.”
Zekia said it quietly, almost a whisper, but then Ashwood twisted his hand around their prisoner’s neck and Zekia felt the snap shoot through her.
There was a wave of anger from the amityguards and in mere seconds bullets spat out from behind the barricade. They stopped inches from Zekia’s face, hitting the shield her Crafters conjured. Crashing against the force field, they sounded like raindrops on a tin roof.
Zekia turned to Wesley, whose hand was still limp in hers. He stared ahead, barely blinking his black eyes as the shots continued.
When he swallowed, Zekia heard it over the gunfire.
Wesley knew what was coming.
He knew the future without needing mind magic.
He knew what Dante Ashwood was going to say, because he knew the man just as well as Zekia did, and he knew what it took to achieve greatness. The sacrifices that needed to be made for a better future.
“Kill them all,” Ashwood said.
And so they did.
One district down. Six more to go.
3
Saxony
SAXONY WAS NOT IN charge and it was really starting to get on her nerves.
“My answer is final,” Amja said. “We’re not talking about this any longer and I’m finished going around in circles with you.”
Saxony’s amja, her long steel hair grazing her clasped hands, sat on the wooden chair next to Saxony’s father, Bastian. Amja had a look in her eyes that told Saxony to stand down, designed to make her feel regret at challenging her authority, or shame at not trusting in her wisdom. Only, it didn’t work so well anymore. Now all it did was make Saxony want to yell about how wrong her family was.
Saxony had seen war. She had seen what Ashwood was capable of firsthand, especially with her little sister at his side. She knew this was not the time to back down or run scared.
“You’re right,” Saxony said. “No more talking. What we need is action. We have to summon the other Crafter Lieges from across the realms. Ashwood has an army of Crafters and that’s exactly what we need.”
Amja did not even look at Saxony when she spoke next.
“I am the Liege of this Kin now,” she said. “And I will not endanger any more of our people.”
She said it as though that was final and Saxony was a child who needed to know her place. Saxony had never thought that she’d want help from Wesley Thornton bloody Walcott, but at times like this, with her amja refusing to see sense, Saxony almost missed the underboss’s penchant for convincing people to do things they didn’t want to. Not to mention that Wesley had named Saxony temporary leader of the Crafters, and without him here to back her up—with Amja acting as Liege to her Kin in Zekia’s place, and Asees and Arjun sectioning their people off to the other side of camp—Saxony was starting to feel like she’d been demoted in some way.
Like nothing she said mattered anymore.
And boy did it suck.
“I do not want more strange Crafters in our camp,” Amja said. “Or more buskers from the other cities. You’ve already brought in an army of misfits to roam around our village. Now you want to fill it with more people we don’t know or trust? You want to start another War of Ages?”
“The war has already started!” Saxony said, failing to contain her frustration. “If I could contact the other Crafters myself, then I would. But only a Liege has that power, Amja, and since you’re standing in Zekia’s place, it’s your responsibility to help protect us.”
“I’m protecting us by staying far from this war and waiting for Zekia to return home.”
Saxony rubbed her temples to keep the growing headache at bay.
Amja was scared,