Defy the Sun (Beware the Night #2) - Jessika Fleck Page 0,21

all of her secrets in a final plea for her life?”

I look up toward the sky.

My chest burns with anger, and my fists ache to finish what I started earlier.

The clouds have cleared.

A full moon—silvery, round as a marble, and bright as a pearl—stares down. But just to the right, something steals its thunder. A star I’ve never noticed before. It nearly outshines the moon on its own, and I decide it’s Veda. Winking down at me. Letting me know it’s going to be all right.

Ad astra …

I see you.

The ceremony begins.

Dorian just pours something into each of their chalices, handing over the Sindaco’s last.

The Sindaco stands and speaks, his voice drowned out by the angry waves rolling in beside us. I don’t need to hear what he has to say. I can guess it’s pretty similar to the Imperi’s Offerings … This sacrifice will appease our god … Help us win the war … “A Settling,” I do make out between the crashing of water. “With this sacrifice, we begin to Settle what’s been taken from us.”

A member of the Night cloaked in black, face hidden save their eyes, walks toward Arlen. A sword swings stiffly at their side.

The Sindaco raises his glass. “Blessed be the Night.” I recognize the slightly changed greeting as those around me repeat it in unison.

The sword is unsheathed.

Held toward the moon so it flashes and reflects the silvery light.

The executioner plants his feet before Arlen.

The sharp metal tip of the blade pricks his bare chest.

Draws blood.

Arlen leans forward, shoving his skin into the blade and crying out in pain. But just when it seems he might do the job himself, the sword is jerked away. The executioner lifts it over their head. Their hands are strong, their grip unwavering.

I have to look away.

I cannot watch this.

I won’t witness this.

“Do it!” someone shouts.

I gaze up at the charcoal sky, find that star, and refuse to take my eyes off her.

Everything goes silent.

Only the sea breathes.

Finally, one horrid cry rings out into the night. Arlen.

And another. The other soldier.

Then, “Sindaco!” cuts through the ceremony.

Everything stops.

I tear my eyes from the star to find the entire crowd is gathered around the Sindaco, who’s fallen to the ground, slumped over onto himself.

Thinking quick and also not thinking at all, my one and only goal getting to Veda, I scramble forward and shove my wrists into the fire. Everything singes and burns and tears straight to heaven and hell and then back again, but not before the rope catches and weakens so I can break free of the binds. Then I crawl to the side. Untie my legs.

And I run.

* * *

I DON’T DARE take the time to look back.

I run up the beach.

Under the shadow of the Crag and past the base of the volcano.

If I can only make it into Imperi territory … I’m the heir of Bellona, for Sun’s sake. If I’m able to escape, to return from the Night, I’ll be a hero. A miracle handed down by the Sun himself … a …

I’m tackled to the ground, the wind knocked out of me.

Sand’s sprayed up into my eyes, shoved down my throat, as I thrash and kick and punch and several someones successfully take me down.

And just as quickly as I tasted freedom, it’s over.

I’m tied back up.

Dragged to the beach.

The Sindaco’s no longer lying on the ground but has vanished altogether. Dorian, the other higher-ups, are also nowhere to be seen.

Those left standing in the circle around the bonfire shout at me. A mix of coward! and liar! and Imperi scum! A few actually accuse me of hurting the Sindaco and suggest I’m next to be Settled.

From there, I’m roughly shoved and pushed back toward the den that goes directly under the Crag.

Then down to the Lower and to my cave.

“You lucked out, Heir.” The guard says it like a repulsive disease. A crude swear. I suppose here it is. Down here, among the Night, Veda’s the true heir of Bellona. I can’t say I disagree. By blood, she’s heir. Though I know Raevald would have a lot to say about that. Over his dead body. That’s what he’d say. The Night soldier kicks me behind the knees so I stumble into my cave. “For whatever reason, the Sindaco wants you alive and well. For now.”

“Lucky me.” I spit the words up at him.

The guy—I’ve seen him before—tallish, strongish, a slew of ribbons adorning his uniform jacket, chuckles down at where I