What I saw here changed everything; I could no longer ignore the suffering of my people.
I press my palm against the cold stone.
This wall’s not indestructible. It’s not an immovable force.
It’s just concrete.
And I’m going to bring it down. I’m going to bring them all down, and free my people.
I drop my hand and head out the nearby gates, which lead into the town square. The plaza’s almost unrecognizable under the blanket of gray, and it takes a moment for me to get my bearings. The smoldering pile of rubble at the north side of the plaza was once Black City School. A few meters to the east is where Sebastian and I started the fight that ignited a riot and led to my arrest. My eyes drift to a pile of ashes where three crosses once stood. That was where Purian Rose tried to execute me. I briefly shut my eyes, remembering the fire that ripped over my body, the choking heat that stole the breath out of my lips—
CLANG!
My eyes snap open at the sound of metal hitting the ground, followed by a stream of angry curses. Parked in the center of the plaza is a Transporter Mini MV5—a compact version of the tilt-wing aircraft that the Sentry use to transport soldiers and prisoners, more commonly known as a Miniport. The MV5 is the deluxe model, with glossy white paintwork and heated leather seats, and is primarily used by rich Sentry businessmen and politicians to do short hops between cities, although this particular Miniport belonged to the former Bastet Consul and his wife. A deep gash runs down the left side of the aircraft, and the metalwork is badly dented where his brother Marcel crashed it a few months ago while out on a joyride. Jutting out from underneath the aircraft is a pair of leather boots and a long spotted tail.
“Everything okay, Ace?” I ask.
A tall Bastet boy slides out from under the Miniport, his face and green shirt covered in oil. In his hand is a metal disc. He leaps to his feet and grins triumphantly at me, the smile crinkling the corners of his catlike eyes. “I’ve fixed Alice’s oil leak,” he says, lovingly patting the Miniport.
We didn’t have time to properly mend the aircraft before the Sentry showed up in Viridis, and we had to flee. It was my suggestion to hide in Black City until we could fix the aircraft and gather some supplies, because we wouldn’t expect them to look for us here. It’s still our intention to get the Ora and then save Natalie and Elijah when we’ve found out where they’re being held captive. My best guess is Centrum, but if Garrick’s brought her to Purian Rose, why hasn’t her capture been announced all over the news?
“Erm, isn’t that supposed to be attached to something?” I say, pointing to the metal disc in Acelot’s hand.
He grins sheepishly at me. “Yeaaaah, sorry, I might’ve accidentally knocked it off. But don’t worry; it’s not vital,” he adds in a rush when he sees the alarm on my face. “I think it belongs to the heat exchanger that controls the seat warmers.” He turns it over in his hands and his smile fades. “Unless it’s from the engine cooling system. Then we might have a problem.”
“What sort of problem?” I ask warily.
“There could be a
tiny
explosion when we start the engine.”
“How small?” I say.
“I’m almost certain it’s for the seat warmers,” he says, dodging the question.
Acelot tucks the disc into his pocket and pulls out a monogrammed handkerchief. He attempts to wipe the oil off his face but doesn’t have much luck. There’s definitely a family resemblance between Acelot and his half brother Elijah—they both have the same honey-colored eyes and cheetahlike spots on their tanned skin—although Acelot is slimmer, with short brown hair and a long, boyish face that makes him look younger than his nineteen years. Only his eyes look old, ringed with dark circles. With the death of his parents, the welfare of his brothers Marcel and Elijah and that of the entire Bastet people
I press my palm against the cold stone.
This wall’s not indestructible. It’s not an immovable force.
It’s just concrete.
And I’m going to bring it down. I’m going to bring them all down, and free my people.
I drop my hand and head out the nearby gates, which lead into the town square. The plaza’s almost unrecognizable under the blanket of gray, and it takes a moment for me to get my bearings. The smoldering pile of rubble at the north side of the plaza was once Black City School. A few meters to the east is where Sebastian and I started the fight that ignited a riot and led to my arrest. My eyes drift to a pile of ashes where three crosses once stood. That was where Purian Rose tried to execute me. I briefly shut my eyes, remembering the fire that ripped over my body, the choking heat that stole the breath out of my lips—
CLANG!
My eyes snap open at the sound of metal hitting the ground, followed by a stream of angry curses. Parked in the center of the plaza is a Transporter Mini MV5—a compact version of the tilt-wing aircraft that the Sentry use to transport soldiers and prisoners, more commonly known as a Miniport. The MV5 is the deluxe model, with glossy white paintwork and heated leather seats, and is primarily used by rich Sentry businessmen and politicians to do short hops between cities, although this particular Miniport belonged to the former Bastet Consul and his wife. A deep gash runs down the left side of the aircraft, and the metalwork is badly dented where his brother Marcel crashed it a few months ago while out on a joyride. Jutting out from underneath the aircraft is a pair of leather boots and a long spotted tail.
“Everything okay, Ace?” I ask.
A tall Bastet boy slides out from under the Miniport, his face and green shirt covered in oil. In his hand is a metal disc. He leaps to his feet and grins triumphantly at me, the smile crinkling the corners of his catlike eyes. “I’ve fixed Alice’s oil leak,” he says, lovingly patting the Miniport.
We didn’t have time to properly mend the aircraft before the Sentry showed up in Viridis, and we had to flee. It was my suggestion to hide in Black City until we could fix the aircraft and gather some supplies, because we wouldn’t expect them to look for us here. It’s still our intention to get the Ora and then save Natalie and Elijah when we’ve found out where they’re being held captive. My best guess is Centrum, but if Garrick’s brought her to Purian Rose, why hasn’t her capture been announced all over the news?
“Erm, isn’t that supposed to be attached to something?” I say, pointing to the metal disc in Acelot’s hand.
He grins sheepishly at me. “Yeaaaah, sorry, I might’ve accidentally knocked it off. But don’t worry; it’s not vital,” he adds in a rush when he sees the alarm on my face. “I think it belongs to the heat exchanger that controls the seat warmers.” He turns it over in his hands and his smile fades. “Unless it’s from the engine cooling system. Then we might have a problem.”
“What sort of problem?” I ask warily.
“There could be a
tiny
explosion when we start the engine.”
“How small?” I say.
“I’m almost certain it’s for the seat warmers,” he says, dodging the question.
Acelot tucks the disc into his pocket and pulls out a monogrammed handkerchief. He attempts to wipe the oil off his face but doesn’t have much luck. There’s definitely a family resemblance between Acelot and his half brother Elijah—they both have the same honey-colored eyes and cheetahlike spots on their tanned skin—although Acelot is slimmer, with short brown hair and a long, boyish face that makes him look younger than his nineteen years. Only his eyes look old, ringed with dark circles. With the death of his parents, the welfare of his brothers Marcel and Elijah and that of the entire Bastet people
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