Haliux is Pronkus’ size and slings me across the room, sending me skidding on the floor. Lareux picks me up with a hand, drags me a short distance, and drops me on the hoverpad deck. My back smacks a support rail as the round platform segments from the dock. Lareux’s a shorter, stockier ball of hatred and punches me before I can ask where we’re headed. Gareeth is beside him with a heavy boot to my armored suit. They hold me down as we cross the massive expanse ofGraviontoward the main plaza.
When I try to wrap my legs around Gareeth to tug him down with me, he shoots my thigh with an arresting blast that steals the last of my strength.
“I know you think you’re doing what’s right,” I rasp. I see his conviction in his eyes, same with Lareux. Pronkus and Haliuxhave taken separate hoverpads to either side of ours and glare at me with similar hatred. “But I never thought you’d be stupid enough to follow my father. I’m his son, and I’m not.”
Gareeth growls and stomps my side, making me jolt from a flare of hot pain. “Shut up.”
I think they mean to make an example of me. And even with my best efforts, I cannot fight under the weight of the arrestors that have not just taken me down but have also shut down my Hellion suit. I am much heavier than if I wore just Rogue armor, and holding my head up becomes nearly impossible.
The suit deflects impacts, but I fear I’ll be soup by the time someone cracks open my husk.
I feel a sudden emptiness that I can’t place.
Jovie—
Fear grows in me that she is not safe, and it is my fault.
We should’ve fled to protect her.She is human and innocent in this war, like Talros and Jorusk.They did not deserve to be dragged into our mess!
Eluni was right.
As we dock, Gareeth drags me off the platform by a fistful of the arrestor cords over my chest, then drops me in the plaza’s entrance. Pronkus picks me up by the back of my armor and flings me at a wall. I bash into it, sending a bone-rattling pulse through my right side. Gravity grips me, and I fall to the floor, where I finally get a moment of peace to process the thunderous pangs in my body and ask my Storm why it’s betraying me.
Even Allele has gone silent. She doesn’t respond when I call to her.
Maybe my implant is busted?
Footsteps near my side. My father squats beside me. “I told you that Storms were unpredictable and would get you into trouble. But you’re just a horny little teen who never grew up. What a disappointment.”
“Just because you’re a miserable king doesn’t mean we all want to be like you.” I cough and taste blood. When I lift my head to glare into his evil green eyes, I see a lot of commoners and Rogues fromTiatith,Keohiit,Evalar,Luridia,Raiem,and more. They’re at war in the main plaza amid merchant shops, gardens, and seating areas. Bolts arc through the ship. Loose ones that miss their targets absorb intoGravion’swalls. Orange Denarsoan gunfire mixes flashes of Amphiran green.
“Oh. You thought you inspired a revolution?” My father cackles. He doesn’t try to help me. He just watches me writhe in my misery. “They tried to escape in the middle of the night, transferring here through cargo ships. But Royals have these pesky little portals that let us jump all over the universe any time we want. So I knew all about your plan and your treachery.”
He gets to his feet. “But I’m not going to kill you. I’m going to punish them and make you watch. Ijor has made sure Denarso had entry. Now you get to watch your rebellious people suffer.”
My father adjusts his cybernetic crown and lifts his wristband. “Initiate Storm dampeners.”
“No!” I fight my restraints. Desperation and hopelessness wind like iron bands around my lungs.
Panels light up in the walls, siphoning Storm power from every Amphiran until there is nothing left to throw but bullets, blades, and fists. Except for, of course, Royals, who are born to a higher power class than Rogues and commoners.
We used to be the protectors, the soldiers, officers, and military elite who stood between commoners and death.
My father has become the enemy of Amphir.
I spot Fieri and Blaize fighting on the floor as their Storms splutter out, rendering them almost human.
“Come on, trash.” Pronkus snatches me up and drags me to the central ring of the plaza, where prisoners are typically held while awaiting security.
I try to call to my friends, but I can’t speak under the suffocating Spark Arrestor and magnetized surface that abruptly draws me to the center of the ring, my back to the floor. I fight the pull of it to monitor my friends, the ones who leftTiatithwith me when I was exiled, the ones who chose freedom and are now facing the consequences of their decisions.
But Rogues are not as helpless as Royals think. We are used to blood and breaking bones however we have to because we fight the battles in the fields. We defend other species. We are used to sleeping in ditches, taking fire, and getting up again.
Wristband communicators light up on the Rogues who are deep in battle with the Denarso and the Royal guards, Elders, and Delegates who’ve taken the side of the enemy. More Rogues rush in from the hallways as they get the calls. We are outnumbered but not broken.
Blaize throat punches a Denarso, draws a knife, and cuts out the male’s heart before he hits the ground.
Many commoners cower and strain to protect their females when Denarso try to take them. The hangar fills with desperate screams that make me fight my ropes. A few commoners rise with makeshift weapons and wield them with years of pent-up frustration.
