rail. “Curse you all!”
Someone shoved Blaise against the marble retaining wall. Several soldiers surrounded the Emperor and took up guard positions. Face twisted in rage, the Emperor screamed curses and orders as he led the way out of the Imperial Observatory.
A Citizen too slow to flee the Emperor’s path fell to the sword of a orange-tasseled soldier. Blaise rubbed at his brow and tried to will away the surge of pain stabbing through his skull, muttering the prayer for the dead under his breath.
The Citizen to Blaise’s left whistled. “He’s gone mad.”
The screams of mortals intensified, and Blaise twisted around to look up at the tiers of the Arena. He wasn’t sure what had triggered the mortals’ instinct to run from danger, but the Citizens swarmed over each other, oblivious to those they hurt in their need to escape. The stench of fear in the air choked off, rather than whetted, his appetite. “He’s not the only one,” he muttered.
Dropping back down to the stone chair, Blaise rubbed at his temple and stared at the standoff between convict and slave below. Catsu stood at ease, tip of his sword dripping blood. The boy stood over the pleasure slave’s still form, his expression blank and eyes dulled.
Catsu’s lips moved, and the sands behind him swirled up in a cyclone. The air stirred in obedience to the convict’s call, hissing as though a snake poised to strike. A second cyclone burst into existence near the slave, whips of sand lashing out.
Grit blasted Blaise in the face. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes.
“Holy God, they’re both Speakers,” the man next to him gasped. Instead of running away, the Citizen leaned closer to the rail. Blaise rose to his feet. The wind clawed at him, grit tearing at his exposed skin and working its way into his clothes.
The hand touching his elbow shook. “We can’t stay here, we’ll be killed.”
Blaise couldn’t tell if the man was daft, courageous, or a fool. He shook the Citizen off and curled his lip up, letting out a low growl that rumbled in his chest. “Quiet!” The winds recoiled from him and the human at his side froze at his command. While the one word wasn’t enough to break the powers of either Speaker, he took the chance to catch his breath.
The twin columns rose up and clashed far above. Both burst into a cascade of sand that pelted those below. When the cloud of dust cleared, the slave and convict both stood. Catsu glared with narrowed eyes, while the boy’s expression remained neutral and lifeless.
Nothing remained of the convict’s victims except bone. The shimmer of the Gate lingered as though God was tired of opening the way for those who hadn’t died.
Yet.
Whatever force held the slave children calm and still for so long shattered. They ran for the nearest portcullis, stretching their arms through the gaps in the metal bars. If any of the military lingered nearby, they didn’t open the way into the tunnels or reveal themselves.
The screams of the Citizens quieted enough for Blaise to catch the murmur of the convict Speaking. Those who hadn’t fled cheered and waved down at the two still fighting. A spark of light formed over Catsu’s head and shot upward, roiling into a great ball of flame awaiting its creator’s bidding. The boy’s lips moved in response, so soft that Blaise heard nothing at all. A shiver coursed over his flesh, and static cracked between his hand and the golden rail.
The man at his side grabbed his arm again and pointed upward. “Look!”
A lone cloud marred the clear sky. It churned, growing until it blocked out the sun and replaced the blue above with black. A drop of rain splattered on Blaise’s cheek and a sheet of water fell in its wake, drenching him from head to toe. With a spluttered curse, he reached up to shove his sodden hair out of his eyes.
Catsu’s fire was extinguished beneath the force of the deluge. The pain in his skull eased to a dull ache, and the rain whispered to
Someone shoved Blaise against the marble retaining wall. Several soldiers surrounded the Emperor and took up guard positions. Face twisted in rage, the Emperor screamed curses and orders as he led the way out of the Imperial Observatory.
A Citizen too slow to flee the Emperor’s path fell to the sword of a orange-tasseled soldier. Blaise rubbed at his brow and tried to will away the surge of pain stabbing through his skull, muttering the prayer for the dead under his breath.
The Citizen to Blaise’s left whistled. “He’s gone mad.”
The screams of mortals intensified, and Blaise twisted around to look up at the tiers of the Arena. He wasn’t sure what had triggered the mortals’ instinct to run from danger, but the Citizens swarmed over each other, oblivious to those they hurt in their need to escape. The stench of fear in the air choked off, rather than whetted, his appetite. “He’s not the only one,” he muttered.
Dropping back down to the stone chair, Blaise rubbed at his temple and stared at the standoff between convict and slave below. Catsu stood at ease, tip of his sword dripping blood. The boy stood over the pleasure slave’s still form, his expression blank and eyes dulled.
Catsu’s lips moved, and the sands behind him swirled up in a cyclone. The air stirred in obedience to the convict’s call, hissing as though a snake poised to strike. A second cyclone burst into existence near the slave, whips of sand lashing out.
Grit blasted Blaise in the face. He lifted his arm to shield his eyes.
“Holy God, they’re both Speakers,” the man next to him gasped. Instead of running away, the Citizen leaned closer to the rail. Blaise rose to his feet. The wind clawed at him, grit tearing at his exposed skin and working its way into his clothes.
The hand touching his elbow shook. “We can’t stay here, we’ll be killed.”
Blaise couldn’t tell if the man was daft, courageous, or a fool. He shook the Citizen off and curled his lip up, letting out a low growl that rumbled in his chest. “Quiet!” The winds recoiled from him and the human at his side froze at his command. While the one word wasn’t enough to break the powers of either Speaker, he took the chance to catch his breath.
The twin columns rose up and clashed far above. Both burst into a cascade of sand that pelted those below. When the cloud of dust cleared, the slave and convict both stood. Catsu glared with narrowed eyes, while the boy’s expression remained neutral and lifeless.
Nothing remained of the convict’s victims except bone. The shimmer of the Gate lingered as though God was tired of opening the way for those who hadn’t died.
Yet.
Whatever force held the slave children calm and still for so long shattered. They ran for the nearest portcullis, stretching their arms through the gaps in the metal bars. If any of the military lingered nearby, they didn’t open the way into the tunnels or reveal themselves.
The screams of the Citizens quieted enough for Blaise to catch the murmur of the convict Speaking. Those who hadn’t fled cheered and waved down at the two still fighting. A spark of light formed over Catsu’s head and shot upward, roiling into a great ball of flame awaiting its creator’s bidding. The boy’s lips moved in response, so soft that Blaise heard nothing at all. A shiver coursed over his flesh, and static cracked between his hand and the golden rail.
The man at his side grabbed his arm again and pointed upward. “Look!”
A lone cloud marred the clear sky. It churned, growing until it blocked out the sun and replaced the blue above with black. A drop of rain splattered on Blaise’s cheek and a sheet of water fell in its wake, drenching him from head to toe. With a spluttered curse, he reached up to shove his sodden hair out of his eyes.
Catsu’s fire was extinguished beneath the force of the deluge. The pain in his skull eased to a dull ache, and the rain whispered to
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