what end, I have no idea. I only know that Farley and
Shade believe it will save us from Maven’s jaws. When I glance behind
me, I see nothing but the avenue, dead-ending at the river’s edge. Far-
ley stands, waiting, her short hair stirring in the hot wind. Jump, she mouths, before plunging off the edge of the crumbled street.
What is it with her and leaping into an abyss?
“She wants us to jump,” I tell Cal, turning back just in time to sup-
plant his wall.
He grunts in agreement, too focused to speak. Like my lightning,
his fires grow weak and thin. We can almost see through them now, to
the soldiers on the other side. Flickering flame distorts their features,
turning eyes into burning coals, mouths into smiling fangs, and men
into demons.
One of them steps up to the wall of fire, close enough to burn. But
he doesn’t. Instead, he draws the flames apart like a curtain.
Only one person can do that.
Maven shakes embers from his silly cape, letting the silk burn away
while his armor holds firm. He has the gall to smile.
And somehow, Cal has the strength to turn away. Instead of tearing
Maven apart with his bare hands, he takes my wrist in his searing-hot
grip. We sprint together, not bothering to defend our backs. Maven is
no match for either of us, and he knows it. Instead, he screams. Despite
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the crown and the blood on his hands, he is still so young.
“Run, murderer! Run, lightning girl! Run fast and far!” His laugh-
ter echoes off the crumbling ruins, haunting me. “There is nowhere I
won’t find you!”
I’m dimly aware of my lightning failing, giving out as I get farther
away. Cal’s own flame crumbles with it, exposing us to the rest of the
legion. But we’re already jumping through midair, to the river ten feet
below.
We land, not with a splash but the resounding clang of metal. I have
to roll to keep from shattering my ankles, but still feel a hollow, aching
pain run up my bones. What? Farley waits, knee-deep in the cold river, next to a cylindrical metal tube with an open top. Without speaking
she clambers into it, disappearing into whatever lies beneath us. We
have no time to argue or ask questions, and follow blindly.
At least Cal has the good sense to close the tube behind us, shutting
out the river and the war above. It hisses pneumatically, forming an
airtight seal. But that won’t protect us for long, not against the legion.
“More tunnels?” I ask breathlessly, whirling to Farley. My vision
spots with the motion and I have to slump against the wall, my legs
shaking.
Like she did on the street, Farley puts one arm under my shoulder,
supporting my weight. “No, this isn’t a tunnel,” she says with a puz-
zling smirk.
And then I feel it. Like a battery humming somewhere, but bigger.
Stronger. It pulses all around us, down the strange hallway swimming
with blinking buttons and low, yellow lights. I glimpse red scarves
moving down the passage, hiding the faces of the Guardsmen. They
look hazy, like crimson shadows. With a groan, the whole hall shudders
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and drops, angling downward. Into the water.
“A boat. An underwater boat,” Cal says. His voice is faraway, shaky,
and weak. Just like I feel.
Neither of us makes it more than a few feet before we collapse
against the sloping walls.
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T H R E E
In the past few days, I’ve woken up in a jail cell and then on a train. Now it’s an underwater boat. Where will I wake up tomorrow?
I’m beginning to think this has all been a dream, or a hallucina-
tion, or worse. But can you feel tired in dreams? Because I certainly do.
My exhaustion is bone-deep, in every muscle and nerve. My heart is
another wound entirely, still bleeding from betrayal and failure. When
I open my eyes, finding cramped, gray walls, everything I want to
forget comes rushing back. It’s like Queen Elara is in my head again,
forcing me to relive my worst memories. As much as I try, I can’t stop
them.
My quiet maids were executed, guilty of nothing but painting my
skin. Tristan, speared like a pig. Walsh. She was my brother’s age, a
servant from the Stilts, my friend— one of us. And she died cruelly, by her own hand, to protect the Guard, our purpose, and me. Even more
died
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