Page 103 of The City Of Fractured Memory

The councillors I haven’t downed start to circle me, closing in, their sneering faces promising my painful demise. I glare back at them, refusing to let them see my fear, but as my eyes dart around, it’s clear there’s nowhere for me to escape.

I’m trapped.

Well, that prophecy was short-lived.

They raise their hands as one as they advance on me, and I crouch down and close my eyes, shielding myself with my hands, though I know it’s futile. I tense, waiting for my inevitable death, cursing my stupid ego and Riven for being right. Light erupts and a shockwave ignites through the room, sending me sliding across the floor to the door, but the pain doesn’t come.

Maybe death isn’t so bad after all?

I risk looking out from behind my hands, and my eyes widen as I look upon the crumpled bodies of the councillors, scattered throughout the room like they’ve been thrown. I hear a growl from behind me and slowly turn, peering up.

Like a dark avenging angel, Riven is standing in the doorway beside me, panting and arms spread wide, a look of abject terror and fury written across his face as his gaze meets mine.

“Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again.”

Forty-Two

Iavoid his gaze as we sprint towards the exit, not bothering to check if any of the councillors survived.

They can rot in the Voyd for all I care.

Riven is a wall of tense, shaking fury, his hands fisted by his sides as he runs, his jaw clenched. I open my mouth to apologise, to admit he was right, but the words don’t come. I can’t bring myself to regret my actions, not now that I've managed to confirm how deep the corruption has spread.

“How did you know I was here?” I grind out instead, still refusing to look at him. We come to a stop at the doors and he throws an arm out to stop me, grabbing my chin with his other hand and forcing me to look at him.

“Because,” he breathes through gritted teeth, “Your actions have consequences, Little Wren.”

I frown in confusion, but he answers my unspoken question by flinging the door open, and revealing the view of the city outside.

I gape in horror, frozen.

Beyond the gilded gates of the Memosyne, the silhouette of the city is hidden behind a towering wall of fire.

“What—how–” I choke on my words, turning to him with wide eyes, desperate for an explanation. He grabs my hand and marches me outside to the road leading to the gates, walking so fast I have to jog to keep him from accidentally yanking my shoulder from its socket.

“I had a vision,” he growls. “The minute you walked into the council chamber there was an explosion. Someone attacked the Division.”

“What?” I gasp. “How could—this isn’t–”

My words trip over themselves, unable to form sense.

As we sprint through the gates, the entire courtyard before the Memosyne is lit hellishly orange, flames clawing up to the sky, the smoke so thick it’s blotting out the higher tiers of the city, joining with the Veil above. Wardens sprint in and out of the inferno like frantic shadow-puppets. Someone shouts for water, someone else for backup, and still the flames rise, greedy and uncontrollable.

I stagger to a halt, my gut twisting.

“Why burn the Division?” My voice cracks. “Why here? How is this connected?”

Riven’s fingers tighten around my wrist, the pressure almost painful. “I don’t know,” he mutters under his breath, voice low with dread. “But someone clearly knows you’re onto them. You charging into the council chamber to confront them must have been the catalyst. There’s something bigger going on here.”

I feel the tremor in his hand and realise, with a jolt, that he’s not just furious. He’s terrified.

We run.

Ash falls like black snow as we sprint through the chaos. Broken glass crackles beneath our boots, the destruction worsening the closer we get. The remains of the roof are sagging inward, beams collapsing, a mural of smoke and heat warping the air.

“Henrick!” Riven’s shout tears from him, raw and panicked.

I follow his gaze.