The symbol swirls and the image fades to an endless black. The air stirs my hair into my unblinking eyes, even though we’re secluded within the concrete walls of my father’s office. And the faint hint of sulfur burns through my nose.
I feel Hasta’s attention beam into the side of my face. I swallow hard and withdraw from the table. My legs shake as I fall against the wall behind me. Maps and other papers someone tacked up long ago crinkle against my neck.
“Am I…I’m going to blow up.” My voice sounds a million miles away.
I never expected much of this life. Never expected to be anything, except alone. I never expected the nail piercing grip seizing my heart when I think of losing it now. Losing the people that accept me without reason, without apology. A cold undertow of terror up anchors me with the truth. My time is short and so is theirs.
“Your father introduced me to this place and told me what the book showed. About the underground and the power the Orens keep. But it wasn’t until we opened the book, in this moment, that I remembered it all. Maybe it’s some protective energy, or I blocked it out.”
Hasta presses down on the table’s edge, head hanging.
“I forgot everything except the weight of some dismantling truth and unending drive to find you. The book has more to show you, more you must know. At least two Orens have always shared the power load. The longest to go alone was Sirus. The first warriors didn’t live past six months. And Sirus barely lasted five years on his own.”
“And I’m five years past him.” I push off the wall and make for the door.
This is what it’s been building to. I’ve grown stronger with each passing year. I knew something inside was expanding beyond my grasp. But to be the end of all the warrior born is worse than I imagined. The power will consume me and take the warrior’s strengths with me.
“Rain, wait. There has to be a way.” Hasta’s right behind me and slams his hand against the door, keeping me in.
“How? I don’t have an heir or time. This power is pushing and growing faster. I’m stretched thin already.”
“It won’t stop, even if you leave. What about the blood? What about sharing like Sirus did?”
“With who? We have no idea what adding more power to a warrior will do. They might end up like the first warriors. Dead in a matter of months.”
“We can try.” Hasta argues.
“Who do you want me to send to an early grave?”
“What’s the alternative? You have no choice. This is the burden you’re born into. Besides, we have civilians here, too.”
I spin on him. My eyes flare hot and my hands ignite at my sides.
“Experiment on the civilians. That’s what you’re suggesting. Experiment like Centrum.”
Hasta steps back, his brows shoot up before settling low, setting hard.
“No. Yes. I don’t know. But if you go, they’re dead anyway. We all are. There's no chance of defending the wall without warriors.”
I distance myself from him and will the flames from my hands. I pace in front of the book and swallow back the thin flood of saliva pooling in my mouth. The book must have the answer, another way. My stomach retches. I swallow it back down and drop to my knees. The jar of the cold concrete clatters my teeth.
“I can’t…do this. I can’t choose someone to die.”
Hasta’s steps are steady and sure in the quiet of this impossible decision. The crackle of his warrior weapon sounds above me. There’s a sudden lightness with the thought that he’s going to kill me. And my death, by his hands, is the answer.
“Here. You don’t have to choose. I volunteer.” He kneels in front of me, a bloody palm outstretched between us.
The red veins in his bloodshot stare radiate a soul-deep sorrow. He’s had minutes to mourn Rosa’s death. It’s only been one day into his hard fought freedom and he’s handing me his life too easily.
“Rain, start with me. Please. I can do this for you, for your dad, for my Rosie.” His voice shatters and a watery smile crinkles the lines around his eyes.
My breath escapes in a twisted groan. I grab his hand and curl his fingers closed over his wound. He can’t make this decision now, not like this. A distant boom reverberates through the air. Seismic waves echo closer until the office walls shake. Crumbles of concrete clatter and ping off the tabletop. We knock into each other with the next boom and the book snaps closed on its own. The office door tears open and I’m drawing my weapons at the intrusion.
“General Elmar is calling for backup on the surface. And Cole and General Targe are missing.” Iva doesn’t wait for a response before bolting for the stairs that lead up into my house.
“We can’t let them escape.” Hasta is fast on his heels while I race to the medical beds.
Addy paces next to Fletcher. Traumatized civilians shake and cower together. But Targe’s bed is vacant. His white gown lies crumpled on the floor. I had to see for myself. How is he gone when he was comatose not thirty minutes ago?
“Addy, where’s Cole?” I growl my frustration at the wrong person.
She won’t look at me. Her eyes are glued on the general’s abandoned IV lines, tinted green. My power flares in response. The rush of energy shrouds me in white static until the only thing I sense is the hammer of my heart.
Was this their plan all along? Was Targe faking his coma with his son’s help? Cole visited him every night in the Centrum infirmary. Dosing him with serum and keeping him up to date on the plans we made.
And I fell for it. Fell for Cole’s wounded son act. He fed me what I wanted to believe. I fell right into their hands. I delivered the secret underground refuge along with the warriors that helped us escape, all of those ready to stand up to Centrum. If they make it back with that knowledge, we’re done for. I turn and take the steps two at a time.
I exit into the library. The doors are thrown wide and warriors rush in and out of my house. I move fast through the front door and the masses to scan the front yard. Two academy supply trucks are nothing more than blackened, burning metal frames. The captain and her father direct the wounded and control the fires. Beyond them, beyond the chaos, at the end of the long driveway down the hill, is a black SUV.
Cole sits behind the driver in the back seat next to General Targe. The general snaps his head in my direction as if he senses me. He locks his black, green-rimmed glare on me and snarls a taunting sneer. I'm paralyzed in furious shackles. The vehicle pulls out, kicking up gravel, and breaking me free. They won't get far. I draw my weapons for pursuit.
