A Girl From Nowhere (The Firewall Trilogy #1) - James Maxwell Page 0,83

he had more power than ever before. He always had a reason to deal harshly with the malcontents and subversives who questioned his rule. There were rebels in the city, people who didn’t want a war, but once identified they didn’t live long. Galen rounded them up and sent them either to the fields or the arena. Few spoke out now.

The Protector’s city guard only had a hundred wyverns, but they were a decisive force, able to shoot arrows from the sky. Slowly, surely, the Protector would destroy anything that moved in the Rift Valley, until Blixen fell, and the last bax fled and never came back.

The plan was working . . . except that there was one minor, but growing issue.

The Rift Valley was a maze of ravines. The bax who lived there, and the warriors Blixen was forming into an army, were able to hide from the city guard.

A mystic could search a larger area than a thousand wyverns, and in a fraction of the time. Unfortunately, Tika-rin couldn’t cast as far as the Rift Valley.

But the Protector had a newfound hope. He might soon have two mystics. If the girl had power, he would use her to find his enemies no matter how they tried to hide. If she served willingly, he would treat her well enough.

If not, she was going to serve anyway.

24

Selena was free.

As she walked the streets of the white city, she had to keep telling herself that she wasn’t dreaming; this was real. Her plan had worked. Mugrak and Borg were both dead. Her actions had finally brought her to the place she had dreamed about for so long.

Her head turned from side to side; she had never been more excited. Zorn was beautiful, everything she had wanted it to be. The streets were clad in smooth paving stones that gleamed in the bright daylight. Tall white houses stood proudly side by side. Soaring over the rooftops, the tower ahead of her was a grand, noble structure that announced to the world that this city was a haven from the precariousness of life outside the wall.

Selena wished more than anything that Taimin was walking beside her, rather than the commander of the city guard. Lars should be with her too. Yet even thinking about the two companions she had become separated from couldn’t banish the pleasure she was feeling.

“I take it this is your first time in Zorn?” Galen asked.

“Yes,” Selena said with a smile.

He nodded, as if confirming something to himself. Other than that, his face was carefully blank as he guided her through the streets and toward the tower.

“Why does the Protector want to see me?” Selena asked as she watched the commander’s face.

“He takes an interest in all newcomers,” Galen said, and then paused. “Particularly mystics.”

Selena remembered when she had wanted more than anything to remove her curse. She realized that she had changed. She no longer had seizures or headaches. Her talent had brought her to where she was now.

She returned her attention to the streets. At first everything she was seeing was overwhelming, but as she began to make sense of the place, she was able to focus on more of her surroundings. The broad avenue she and the commander were following thronged with city folk. Rather than gaze in awe at the structures on all sides and wonder at the city’s sheer size, she began to look at the citizens.

At first, the figures blurred together. But as she inspected people individually, she experienced a strange feeling.

A slight sense of unease began to grow in her chest.

Dusty laborers with gaunt faces trudged. Scrawny women carried sloshing water sacks and glared at anyone who strayed too close. The faces Selena saw were careworn. Several of the laborers had thin scars on their shoulders . . . the lines left behind by a whip.

Selena was now close to the tower, where a plaza and bustling market surrounded the broad, circular base. Her misgivings grew. Hearing shouts, her attention was drawn to a crowd that surged around the nearest stall. Men and women held up a variety of flasks, gourds, and clay jars. There were few among them dressed in the fine clothing that some of the citizens wore. Young or old, they all cried out the same word. “Water! Water!”

The vendor, a skinny man with a wispy beard, struggled to keep up as desperate people reached out to him. He took containers and filled them from a barrel on a