her huddled, miserable form, I felt pity for her too. I couldn’t begin to comprehend the horror her life must have been for the past few years.
My jaw clenched. I wasn’t going to yield. I couldn’t. Kingsley would have to kill me. I thought of Aaric, and hoped he was all right.
A thought occurred to me, and my heart thudded painfully in my chest. Did Aaric die? Perhaps his wounds had been too much for him to bear. He had looked pretty bad when I last saw him.
“Ember . . .” I said, tentatively. “Did you hear if Aaric . . . died?”
Ember was so quiet I thought maybe she didn’t hear me. A moment later, though, she rose to her feet, smoothing her skirts. “Aaric is in prison, Adaryn.” Her voice sounded wooden. “You’ll never see him again.”
The world spun. I couldn’t breathe. Ember turned and left the room, leaving me alone. Aaric, in prison. Alone. Without his books and notes and ink to keep his mind busy. Prison for him would be the worst fate imaginable.
I covered my face with my hands and sobbed. My heart had broken.
The collar hummed, and the pain returned.
32
Aaric
T he morning after Aaric’s escape, they were back in the nomad camp. Kenroc was sick with worry, sitting with Bran and Aaric, discussing plans.
“We go in there and kill them,” Kenroc said coldly. “All of them. This is the second time Adaryn’s been enslaved, not to mention the countless other nomads that have been captured. This needs to end—now.”
“I agree,” Bran nodded, but he hesitated, and Aaric knew he was thinking about Miss Grace.
Aaric put his plate of sausage and eggs aside; he had no appetite. “We can fight, but we’re not to start a war. We get in and get out.”
Kenroc turned to him, his blue eyes blazing. They were the exact color of Adaryn’s. “I thought that you, more than anyone, would understand. We have to get Adaryn back at all costs!”
“I do understand.” Aaric met Kenroc’s gaze levelly. “I want Adaryn back, and Kingsley to pay for whatever he’s done to her. But we can’t rush in there killing everyone in sight.” He smiled. “I have a better plan. What we need to do is end slavery, for good.”
Bran and Kenroc both stared at him. “How?” they asked in almost complete unison.
“I had time to do a lot of thinking while imprisoned. The collars and braces are powered by the energy we collect,” Aaric replied. “We store it in the Tower, where we also gather the power needed to make the collars work.”
Kenroc looked thoughtful. “From lythyum crystals.”
Aaric nodded eagerly. “Yes. We have several underground mines near Ruis, in fact it is why this city—”
“Was built here in the first place,” Bran finished. “But why does that matter? The Tower is massive. There’s no way we could destroy it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Bran’s eyes widened with realization. “Drawing on the power from the sky jewel, I might be able to tear it down!”
Aaric shook his head. “You know what happens when a nomad tries to remove a collar. The jolt of energy you might send to the slaves in trying to destroy the Tower could kill them.” He steepled his fingers, brow creasing in thought. “We have to destroy it, no doubt about that, but it needs to be shut down, first.”
Kenroc narrowed his eyes. “From the inside?”
“Yes. If I can get access to the controls, I can shut it down, which will render the braces useless, and keep the collars from getting spikes of energy. Having my explosive devices go off afterward will prevent anyone from turning the controls back on.” He looked at the two nomads in turn. “The freed slaves will most likely need some direction and guidance once they realize they’ve been freed. You may want to consider having several nomads throughout the city to guide and help them escape. I will also need a massive distraction, preferably some distance away from the Tower, to draw the city guards away from me.”
Bran grinned
My jaw clenched. I wasn’t going to yield. I couldn’t. Kingsley would have to kill me. I thought of Aaric, and hoped he was all right.
A thought occurred to me, and my heart thudded painfully in my chest. Did Aaric die? Perhaps his wounds had been too much for him to bear. He had looked pretty bad when I last saw him.
“Ember . . .” I said, tentatively. “Did you hear if Aaric . . . died?”
Ember was so quiet I thought maybe she didn’t hear me. A moment later, though, she rose to her feet, smoothing her skirts. “Aaric is in prison, Adaryn.” Her voice sounded wooden. “You’ll never see him again.”
The world spun. I couldn’t breathe. Ember turned and left the room, leaving me alone. Aaric, in prison. Alone. Without his books and notes and ink to keep his mind busy. Prison for him would be the worst fate imaginable.
I covered my face with my hands and sobbed. My heart had broken.
The collar hummed, and the pain returned.
32
Aaric
T he morning after Aaric’s escape, they were back in the nomad camp. Kenroc was sick with worry, sitting with Bran and Aaric, discussing plans.
“We go in there and kill them,” Kenroc said coldly. “All of them. This is the second time Adaryn’s been enslaved, not to mention the countless other nomads that have been captured. This needs to end—now.”
“I agree,” Bran nodded, but he hesitated, and Aaric knew he was thinking about Miss Grace.
Aaric put his plate of sausage and eggs aside; he had no appetite. “We can fight, but we’re not to start a war. We get in and get out.”
Kenroc turned to him, his blue eyes blazing. They were the exact color of Adaryn’s. “I thought that you, more than anyone, would understand. We have to get Adaryn back at all costs!”
“I do understand.” Aaric met Kenroc’s gaze levelly. “I want Adaryn back, and Kingsley to pay for whatever he’s done to her. But we can’t rush in there killing everyone in sight.” He smiled. “I have a better plan. What we need to do is end slavery, for good.”
Bran and Kenroc both stared at him. “How?” they asked in almost complete unison.
“I had time to do a lot of thinking while imprisoned. The collars and braces are powered by the energy we collect,” Aaric replied. “We store it in the Tower, where we also gather the power needed to make the collars work.”
Kenroc looked thoughtful. “From lythyum crystals.”
Aaric nodded eagerly. “Yes. We have several underground mines near Ruis, in fact it is why this city—”
“Was built here in the first place,” Bran finished. “But why does that matter? The Tower is massive. There’s no way we could destroy it, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Bran’s eyes widened with realization. “Drawing on the power from the sky jewel, I might be able to tear it down!”
Aaric shook his head. “You know what happens when a nomad tries to remove a collar. The jolt of energy you might send to the slaves in trying to destroy the Tower could kill them.” He steepled his fingers, brow creasing in thought. “We have to destroy it, no doubt about that, but it needs to be shut down, first.”
Kenroc narrowed his eyes. “From the inside?”
“Yes. If I can get access to the controls, I can shut it down, which will render the braces useless, and keep the collars from getting spikes of energy. Having my explosive devices go off afterward will prevent anyone from turning the controls back on.” He looked at the two nomads in turn. “The freed slaves will most likely need some direction and guidance once they realize they’ve been freed. You may want to consider having several nomads throughout the city to guide and help them escape. I will also need a massive distraction, preferably some distance away from the Tower, to draw the city guards away from me.”
Bran grinned
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