Quiet words passed between them, words she couldn’t hear over the pulsing beat of her own heart.
And then the first soldier stepped back. One word—low, and fiercely angry, came from the gap in the metal that covered his head. They had always shared a common tongue, the Caelumnai and the faeytes. But the word sounded almost unfamiliar, hissed in fury.
Go.
She blinked, uncertain, and he said it again.
Go.
She ran.
She darted straight between the two men. Translucent, delicate sleeves brushed against unforgiving metal, snagging and tearing, but she did not stop.
She ran through the entrance to the gardens, following the thin path that curled around her home toward the main steps. There were more men there, men with swords that glistened ruby red, men that shouted when they saw her, but she did not stop as she flew down the steps, cool stones meeting her feet even when she felt as though she might tumble.
She ran across the bridge. The shimmering white adralite stone, always so familiar, was now slick and filthy with redand black and parts andpeople, people that she might have recognized if she had stopped to look.
But she did not stop.
She ran into the town, down the winding dusty paths that led into the beating heart of Asteria. Her feet flew, as if those hours of skidding around corners had been nothing but practice for this moment. She ducked around men who reached for her, her hair flying out behind her as the braid Nyx had wound so tightly unraveled.
There were so many people in the square. A pleading, teeming crowd of people, battling against the men in metal with makeshift weapons. Weapons that did not,couldnot, hold up against the weight of metal and anger that drove the men who had invaded her home and now ripped it to shreds.
She saw the blacksmith, Jonas, his cheeks wet as he stood in front of a cowering group. He clutched a hammer in one hand, a bloodied chisel in the other. And there—Hala save them, there was Leesa, and Emryn—their eyes wide as they crouched behind him with tear-stained faces. A crumpled form lay beside them, Ria’s distinctive reddish hair mixing with the scarlet pool beneath her as her husband roared his grief at the metal creatures that surrounded him.
She stumbled as if the dagger that pierced her chest was real.
She had spoken to Ria just yesterday, had slipped a cake into Leesa’s pocket for her to share with her younger brother, had been offered a small piece of bread as she listened to the Travelers tell the origin tales.
One last night around the hearth, she had thought. One last night to be a child before her Ascension. And all the way home, she had hugged her elbows and blinked away the burning behind her eyes.
But now—
No.
Children. There were children here.
They were killingchildren.
Hers. They were hers.
They were her people, and the Caelumnai cut through them like butter.
But Jonas saw her, and he bellowed again, lifting his makeshift weapon and urging her in renewed desperation as he ducked to avoid a blade.
Run.
So she ran, sobs tearing from her chest as she flew past him with unspoken apologies in her eyes. She darted down the smallest path, cobbled stone and glass embedding in her feet as she made for the harbor.
Behind her, angry shouts rang out. Her feet threatened to slip as she heard the thuds, the sound of weapons meeting in a savage clash. The girl glanced over her shoulder.
Jonas had blocked the way.
Barely a second, he bought her. But it mattered. And she pushed her feet forward as tearful cries rose up behind her, as the thud of something heavy hitting the floor sounded.
Do not waste it.
The scream tore from her throat. She had never made a sound like it. The world around her blurred, her bare feet broken and bleeding from the glass that had shattered across the cobblestones.
