Page 86 of Storm of Stars
Another guard was heading our way. I stood, putting myself between him and Zaffir. He didn’t hesitate as he slammed the butt of his rifle straight into the side of my head.
Pain burst across my skull in a flash of white. I dropped to my knees, blinking through the haze as the guard stepped toward Zaffir, rifle raised.
I kicked out, sweeping his legs from under him. He hit the ground hard, and Zaffir, gods, even injured, pulled a dagger with his good hand and drove it into the exposed flesh of the guard’s throat.
The man thrashed, screamed, then stilled.
I turned to Zaffir, and his gaze drifted past me, to the terminal. To the hard drive lying there, shattered. One single perfect, precise shot had destroyed everything.
The footage. The truth. Gone.
That had been the plan all along. They wanted us to get to the Show Center. They wanted for us to feel a sense of security. Then they’d take out the evidence.
A pair of hands seized my shoulders from behind. I fought like hell, elbows, knees, head, but they were faster, stronger. Zaffir tried to push up, to help, but the pain knocked him back down again, screaming as he gripped his ruined hand.
I kicked wildly as the guard dragged me backward, twisting in their grip, heart pounding like a war drum.
My eyes scanned the room.
Briar and Thorne were backed into a corner, hands up, weapons dropped, with rifles pointed at their heads.
Ezra lay facedown, unmoving, his pickaxe just inches from his hand. A guard stood over him, pressing the muzzle of a rifle into the back of his neck.
Everyone’s eyes found mine.
And I knew.
We had lost.
We weresoclose. We had the proof. We had the story. We had the moment. And Praxis took it all away with one bullet. History would never know the truth.
Unless we found another way to tell it.
“I admit,” a voice rang out, crisp and cruel, echoing through the chamber. “I didn’t think you’d bequitethis stupid.”
The words seemed to come from everywhere, and nowhere, all at once. Then, the sharp click of heels began to echo against the tile, rhythmic and unhurried. We all turned toward the sound, tension spiking.
Archon Evanora Veritas emerged from the shadows. She was wrapped in shimmering gold chiffon, the fabric whispering with every step. It clung to her frame like a goddess carved in bronze. Elegant, regal, and terrifying. Her hair fell in polished ringletsdown her back, untouched by wind or war, making her look more like a vision than a person. More myth than mortal.
But when my gaze reached her eyes, I saw the cracks. The dark circles just barely hidden beneath perfect powder. The twitch in the corner of her mouth. Her gaze, sharper now, more alert, less sure. Like she’d been staring into the dark a little too long and had started to worry what might be staring back.
Wehad done that. We’d gotten to her. Even if we weren’t able to finish this war. I could die knowing that we’d scared the unshakeable.
She smiled like a wolf. “The grid makes a wonderful hiding place,” she purred, her voice honeyed and cruel. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Stark?”
Her gaze sliced toward him where he lay slumped on the floor, his breathing ragged, his skin unnaturally pale. He was curled around the camera he’d brought with him. Protecting it like it might still be our salvation, if he got the chance. The blood was still flowing from his ruined hand, and his eyes were fluttering, losing their grip on consciousness. My throat clenched.
Tears burned hot in my eyes.
“Brexlyn Hollis,” she said next, and the sound of my name in her mouth made me flinch. Her voice was velvet-laced poison. “Did you really think you were the first Challenger to try and fight back?”
I straightened, locking eyes with her as she approached, though the guard’s grip on me tightened. She stopped just inches from me, her perfume, rose and something sharp beneath it, filling my nose like a choking sweetness.
“Did you think we didn’t know about your little Runaways?” she whispered, her smile growing as her finger traced a cold line down my cheek. I didn’t move. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. But her touch made my skin crawl.
“A century,” she hissed, “acenturyof a system cannot be undone by a handful of desperate children and a single night. You think because you knocked on the gates, they’ll fall down?” She laughed, low and gleeful. “You stupid, foolish girl.”
She stepped back, turning to address the room, her voice rising like a sermon. “Did you really think all my guards were stationed at the towers? That I would be so careless? That even if you managed to subdue my armies, that my citizens wouldn’t also stand against you?”
