Defy the Sun (Beware the Night #2) - Jessika Fleck Page 0,11

my hands tied with rope. Their once-heir.

It’s futile, but I search among them for familiar faces, strain to see one face in particular.

But I know I won’t find her here.

Right as I’m tumbling down a painful slew of memories I hear a word. An unfamiliar term. Settlings. Then another Night member repeats the word. Settlings. Soon, I hear it popping up in several conversations.

And something about the word … It both piques my interest and sets my nerves on edge.

I follow one of the loudest voices to find it’s a group of Night members answering questions from a couple of new recruits. I strain my ears, try to make out what they’re saying while not being obvious to Dorian.

He glances toward me.

And I hear: “… First ceremony’s tonight. One of the Imperi soldiers captured will pay.”

Dorian and I make direct eye contact.

* * *

“PAY FOR WHAT?” I ask as we swiftly walk back to the cave that serves as my prison cell. After talk of the Settlings grew even more, Dorian grabbed me by the wrists, said something about being late for his briefing, and practically sprinted out of the cavern. “Dorian?”

He doesn’t look at me. “I was going to tell you after the briefing. After I got more information.” He’s trying to make it sound like it’s maybe not as big a deal as it sounds.

“I want to go with you.”

“Out of the question.”

“I’ll stand in the back. Be completely quiet. No one will even know I’m there.”

“Nope. I’m not risking my neck so you can eavesdrop.” He shakes his head. “Besides, I can think of ten Night members off the top of my head who’d love to punch your teeth in, and if you get hurt on my watch, it’s my neck yet again.”

I shake my head and huff. “My Sun, Dorian, then at least give me something to go on here. What do you know? What did he mean by an Imperi soldier ‘is going to pay’? Pay for what? How?”

I don’t think it’s intentional, but when he abruptly stops we’re standing right in front of one of the Lunalette memorials. He throws his hands up like he’s asking me to calm down. Which I don’t.

“Okay,” he says. “All I know is from looking over the Sindaco’s notes this morning in preparation for the briefing. It would seem everyone got the same notes. They’re usually confidential and not discussed before the meeting, but apparently that was too hard for some people.”

I lean against the nearest cave wall, exhaustion suddenly taking over. “They seem excited about it for some reason.”

His eyes dart to mine. “It’s the Sindaco’s version of the Offering,” he spits out, like he doesn’t know how else to say it.

“What?” I heard him, but … “You’re not serious?”

He nods. “You cannot repeat this.”

“Like I have anyone to repeat it to.”

Dorian raises an eyebrow like, true. “The Settlings will be a series of ceremonies: a sort of vengeance for the Offerings. A settling of terms, of unjust crimes committed against Basso and Night members. In short, one by one, the Imperi soldiers we’ve captured will be executed.” He shakes his head, but I can’t quite figure out how he feels about it. “That’s all I know.”

We begin walking again, and I’m working this new information over in my head when I realize I’m grinding my teeth and Dorian is side-eyeing me. “What?” I ask.

“I don’t agree with it,” he says. “Not completely.”

“Not … completely?”

“The Offerings were wrong. Tainted to meet Raevald’s and the Imperi’s agenda. But…” He stares ahead but narrows his eyes. “This isn’t the way to go about rectifying those wrongs.”

“Can you talk him out of it?”

Dorian releases a long, drawn-out sigh. “I don’t know.”

And I believe him, decide to stop grilling him until after the briefing when he has more information.

I change the subject. “How are things going up there?”

I’m not sure he realizes it, but he speeds up a few steps ahead of me. Not looking back, he says, “It’s hell. That’s how it’s going up there.”

Well, that I already knew.

He goes on, “If it’s not death you see, it’s fire or hunger, fences or soldiers.” Dorian turns to look at me, suddenly appearing years beyond his age—the toll of two weeks of war already showing in his eyes. “And she’s up there somewhere … Stuck in the middle of it all…” Shaking his head in disgust or hopelessness or I don’t know what, he turns back around and continues walking. I