The Girl Who Fell From The Sky - Rebecca Royce Page 0,20

of ancient languages, but one called English used this sound, a voiced labialized velar approximant, to begin its word for winter. So every time you see this symbol, you read it as w.”

Astor touched the title page almost reverently. How long his fingers were. Something fluttered inside me, and it definitely wasn’t my heart. I knew what palpitations and reduced oxygen flow felt like, and this was very different. For one thing, it wasn’t cold. It was warm. Very warm.

“Can you record all the characters and teach me their sounds?” he asked, not looking up.

“Of course. I’d be happy to. And in the meantime, I can read this book aloud. I think it will interest y—”

A banging on the metal door out beyond the gruesome throne room interrupted us. I couldn’t discern a pattern to the knock, but somehow, Astor knew who it was. He practically ran over to the door to unlatch it. Mattis stood beyond, out in the tunnel. He was breathing hard, like he’d run the whole way here.

“Oh good, you have Bianca. We have to go. Right now.”

“The lists?” Astor asked, and Mattis nodded.

Oh no. I knew what those were. Casualty lists. Mattis checked them every morning. Battles were games of numbers, he said, and we should all do the calculations to determine how the overall conflict was playing out. That sounded metaphorical, but I thought really he was just looking for names of people he cared about.

“Dead?” Astor asked in a clipped, anguished voice.

“Missing.”

I closed the book but held it with me. “Who is missing?”

“Torrin and Nox.”

Astor nodded, his gaze a distance away as he considered what he’d just heard. This was his brother, and yet, he didn’t seem at all frantic. “That’s good news actually.”

I swallowed, looking between them. “How so?”

Mattis widened his eyes, lifting his forehead until it wrinkled. “Beats me. How is this good?”

“Nox will never let anything happen to Torrin and vice versa. Whatever has changed in the last years since my brother took the throne, that hasn’t. We’re still four kids that used to sneak into the Old Lampassess Caverns. Come on. Let me look at what happened and figure out where they’ve either been taken or hidden.”

I followed after them. Why was it important I came?

I didn’t ask, but as Mattis grabbed my arm, more of a support than a pull, he answered it anyway. “If we’re about to be attacked, I want you with me, not exposed with no one around to help you.”

He was so sweet. I shoved away the thought. This was very bad news, and I needed to keep whatever growing fascination I had for him and Astor under control right now. We didn’t have to go far. On the other side of Torrin’s quarters was a room that had maps. No writing on the maps but pictures of landscapes drawn in. Took me a minute to digest what I looked at. Water was blue. Trees were squiggly lines. Numbers were all over it.

“Who brings the reports?”

Mattis answered without looking at me, his gaze firmly on the map in front of him. “Adolescent boys training to be soldiers. They’re called runners. It’s actually a dangerous job. We all have to do it for a while.”

Well, the men did. As far as I could tell, the women around here really did cook, clean, and fuck for money. Never in my life could I have imagined how easily I’d have thought that last phrase.

“There,” Astor said, pointing. “The battle took place where we expected it. And then Torrin, according to the graph, disappeared here.” He pointed to another spot. Numbers matched numbers like a children’s game. It really was amazing how they’d adapted to having no literacy. They read numbers, sort of, but it was more like picture games. “So that means if Torrin isn’t taken to the Reamer camp, then they are in the hidden caves below by the rivers. If he’s hurt, Nox stashed him there until we bring help.”

Mattis let go of my back, and I missed his comfort immediately. “Stay with Astor, Bianca. I’m going to go save the king.”

He ran from the room before I could say a word.

“By himself?” I managed to ask too late.

“No, he’ll grab some soldiers and go. He’s only not battling because he and I are designated to protect the City-State.” Astor sunk into a chair. The first visible sign this had affected him at all. My heart, figuratively and fortunately not literally at the moment, bled