Page 164 of The First Spark
Tears slipped from Kalie’s eyes and stung her raw cheeks. She wiped them away with her swollen fingers.
It was Ariah who gave her the strength to trod through the squelching mud, towards the legionnaires who waited at the gates with their pulsers raised.
Maybe they wouldn’t let Ariah go. Maybe they would kill her, too.
But this time, she wouldn’t let her face death alone.
Kalie jutted her chin out.
Two of the legionnaires stomped through the mud, flinging it onto Kalie’s sweat-stained clothes. They seized her, but she didn’t fight. Not as they patted her down. Not as they ripped her pulser from its holster and seized her comm. Not as they smashed it in the mud.
Sparks fizzled from the broken wires, fleeing into the winter breeze. Kalie flinched. At least her messages were safe with Mira. Her parents would get her will, naming Lida her heir, and if Zane lived through the battle, he would find her goodbye.
She should’ve told him sooner. By the time he heard her message, she would be gone. It wasn’t fair to saddle him with a confession that would add to his guilt.
“Why are you here?” a legionnaire demanded, holding a scanner over her wrist.
“I came to turn myself in.”
The scanner flashed green, and a squat man guffawed. “She’s more of a fool than we thought.”
Kalie glared at him as they yanked her hands behind her back, shackling her wrists together. Let them laugh. Someday, her allies would rise up against Carik and free the people he’d oppressed. Even if she didn’t live long enough to see it, she would watch from Azura’s heavens as his menrotted in hell.
“Let’s go.” A man shoved her forward, and mud splashed onto herpants, seeping through the fabric. “We shouldn’t keep the Duchissa waiting.”
As her teeth chattered, she stumbled after them. A blaze of wind shrieked past, flinging her tangled hair into her face. She tried to whip it over her shoulder, but the howling wind was strong, and her hands were bound.
The gates closed behind her with a resounding clang.
Her pulse thumped as she took a step forward. Air wasn’t coming into her lungs. Her legs wouldn’t move.
Pain ratcheted up her spine as something hard slammed into her back, and a cry burst from her lips as she stumbled forward. They barked orders to move, but her hands were shaking. Her legs were trembling. Still, she couldn’t move.
Oh, gods, this was truly the end.
Now she could breathe, but it wasn’t really breathing; the rapid gasps of frigid air made her feel like she was suffocating. Someone struck her back again, and she cried out as she crumpled into the muddy grass. Her knees collided first—the impact of frozen joints striking solid ground was agony—then her chest plunged into the muck. The grime seeped into her jacket and oozed across her skin.
She gazed at the withering gray trees, the shining marble columns, the high, vaulted windows, and the gleaming gold domes atop looming towers. This place had been her home for two decades. Now it would be her tomb.
I am Kalista Hannover, eldest daughter of the Etovian Emperor and niece of Calida Amador.
Her mantra did nothing. Aunt Calida and Lexie were dead and her parents would be dead and everyone she loved would be dead, just like her, and why had she come here?
For Ariah.
Kalie took a deep breath, letting it expand her lungs.
For Ariah. For Ariah. For Ariah.
It became her new mantra as she shoved herself to her feet and trudged forward. She breathed in.For Ariah. Out.For Ariah. Mud trickled down her pants and chilled her frozen skin, but as her chest rose and fell, she repeated her mantra, and she ceased to feel the coldand pain. She ceased to fill the wind stabbing her skin, and the grit stinging her eyes.
She had one chance, a desperate, reckless chance, to save Ariah.
If it failed, they would meet the end together.
As they marched up the cobblestone path, past drooping trees and frost-covered statues of the gods, Kalie glanced at a sculpture of Azura. If the goddess had any mercy, she would make this quick.
Guards hauled open the looming doors, and wind barged into the foyer as the legionnaires dragged her across the threshold. Mud dripped onto the polished marble tiles, leaving dirty streaks on the sparkling floor.
