Of Silver and Beasts by Trisha Wolfe Page B

craft and we lift up.
    White light illuminates the bottom of the craft, rippling the air beside me as the engine rumbles, hovering us higher and closer to the middle of the buildings. From here, I can see nearly all of Cavan. Smoke billows from the domed rooftops, and the setting sun reflects off the glass buildings, washing the city in a dusky, fire-orange hue.
    I close my eyes to shut out the glare and see Carina’s lifeless body in my mind. I wish we could’ve had more time to figure each other out. Whatever issues she had with the councilor, I know that she had vital information that I need. We might have even been friends. We just weren’t given enough time.
    As the Cury-craft hovers over the Baltique Quarter, my stomach drops with a sickening free-fall. Hundreds of bodies lay mutilated, abandoned. Otherworlders scurry like roaches down the streets, ransacking homes and dragging citizens behind them. They’re taking the people they think will gain them the most profit and killing the rest.
    Corpses of children are thrown into a pile like discarded trash. A hollow burn consumes the air in my lungs and I fight for breath. My hand grips the handle tighter as I watch an Otherworlder set the bodies aflame. I turn my head . . . and meet the prince’s eyes.
    The flames and scorching sun ignite the deep rivers of his blue eyes. I imagine they see past my layers of uniform and skin, to the fiery magma coursing through my veins, as they flick over my face. Then his lips part, but I jerk my head sideways before his words form.
    There is nothing anyone can say.
    Not right now.
    The Cury-craft rumbles to a halt, and then we descend slowly to the earth. It lands with a hollow boom , and the protectors take up their swords and hustle out the side.
    I spring from my crouched position and land on both feet. Relief floods my limbs as I run toward my road. It doesn’t look like the Otherworlders have attacked here yet.
    Thank you, Alyah .
    “Which unit is yours?” Prince Caben asks, joining my side.
    Clamping down on my annoyance, I press my lips together and point to the building next to mine. “Help the protectors evacuate there.” And I head toward my home.
    I don’t look behind to see if the prince has listened. Instead, I pump my legs harder, racing toward my rusted metal door. Behind me, the battle has caught up with us.
    Cannon fire echoes against the panes of glass, but I push on. The clink of swords meeting swords and the soft exhale of blood exiting bodies after being run through fills the air, but it fades into the background noise of the battle as my whole being races toward home.
    Jumping over an overturned potted plant, I cross into the tiny manicured yard, and suck in a breath as I reach the door. I grab the knob and immediately yank my hand back from the blistering handle. Panic rips through me.
    Bracing my arm over my nose and lower half of my face, I rear back and kick the door. It groans but doesn’t give. I kick harder, and it flies open with a sickening whine. I’m blasted backward by a gust of hot air.
    Covering my face, I lower into a hunch and creep inside the unit. “Mom!”
    Flames lick the paneling. The walls are covered in long dark slashes where the fire has scorched. The tiny three-legged table we’ve owned forever smolders, its legs slowly burning into fire-red embers.
    I blink the smoke from my eyes. “Mom!”
    A hand yanks my arm, pulling me out of the apartment. “She’s gone—” the prince says.
    My eyes search his face. “How do you know?” I cough the smoke from my lungs and he slaps my back. I jerk away from his touch. “How do you know?”
    He nods his head toward the second Cury-craft that’s landed next to ours. “All the units in this building and the next are empty.” His eyes narrow. “General Corvin ordered your protectors to move on to the next quarter.”
    I shake my head. “I’m checking anyway.” I step around him.
    His hand catches my wrist. “Otherworlders