Page 68 of The First Spark
The door clicked shut. Grant’s breathing calmed. Zane let him go, but Grant launched himself forward and surged to the exit. A guard shoulder-checked him, and a burly man caught his shoulder.
“Captain said for you to stay put.”
“Let go of me, or it’ll be your face I punch in next.”
Zane snorted and disguised it as a cough. The other guards leaned closer in anticipation of a fight. Part of him wanted to see it—there were three guards cornering Grant, and he’d stake his money on the runt. Grant obviously needed to cool off if he wanted to keep his job, though, so Zane waved his hand.
“Let him go. Not our problem.”
Grant jerked free of the guard’s grip and stormed towards the entryway. The guards glared at him as the door slammed shut.
“What’s his story?”
Stunned faces whipped towards him, and Zane shrugged.
“I’m from Oppalli, remember?”
A graying guard sank into a chair at the next table over. “If his father hadn’t committed treason, he would’ve been a count. Probably the richest man on Dali. But after the traitor was arrested, Duchissa Calida and Governor Roth got the Collectivate to strip his inheritance.”
“His father’s Landon Grant,” another said hoarsely. “The people loved him. More than Roth, even. They called him ‘the Count of the Commons’. He was Duchissa Calida’s strongest ally in the war. Then she and Roth let his pregnant wife die—left her defenseless, so they could win the Battle of Queensborough. Her murder was…” The guard shivered. “Brutal.”
Zane’s mouth gaped open. Sagging into his chair, he stared at the door where Grant had disappeared. He’d thought Calida had screwed him over, but that… he couldn’t begin to imagine.
“Count Grant snapped.”
Yeah, he would’ve too.
“Withdrew for a while, squandered what was left of his fortune. Once the war was over, he tried to kill Duchissa Calida.”
“Now he’s locked up in the prison on the moon, and good riddance,” a middle-aged woman chimed in.
Despite the distaste on the guards’ faces, Zane couldn’t blame Grant’s father. He’d had his revenge, too. It was the last thing he’d done before he left Oppalli.
“And Grant?”
“Deranged convict,” a guard offered, to murmurs of assent.
“Kid’s a loose cannon.” The brewchine hissed as a man poured a cup of kaf. “He beat my count’s son to a pulp.”
“Don’t know why the Duchissa hired him.”
“It’s strange,” Zane muttered, rubbing his forehead. “I don’t think she trusts him, she asked me to…”
He caught himself and looked up. The guards were watching him. Some looked confused, some suspicious.
Raised voices and clomping boots spared him from having to explain. The door swung open, and Vale marched through like a man on a mission. Wright followed. His head hung low.
“Where’s Grant?”
Zane grimaced. Judging by Vale’s sharp tone, letting Grant leave hadn’t been the brightest idea.
An older guard shot a look at Zane. “Kid cleared out, sir.”
“See?” Wright spun towards the Captain. “I told you, sir, you can’t trust him.”
“That’s enough, Titus.” Vale’s piercing eyes landed on Zane. “Wells.”
“Yes, sir?”
