“Running off to the Navy? You selfish coward!”
Her mother’s last message rang in Mira’s ears. Blinking hard, she refocused on the junction where the optical data lines for this section converged. Normally protected by the conduit pipes that lined the corridors, they cast a glow from the open panel.
I’m tired of my child coming home bloody.
Our lonely life in the forest hasn’t provided the normalcy I’d hoped for. I’ve lost count of the times Lane has stumbled into our tiny home, crying and scrubbing at the red stains on his hands. I always kiss his forehead, wash the nightmare from
“I need a wand.”
Exeter, the elderly wandmaker, squinted through his thick glasses at his visitor.
This young man was one of those university types: tall, sandy hair combed to the side, dark eyes, worn robe of cornflower blue with the hood pulled up. Very eager and very naive.
“Are you
“Your blood is purple.” I stared ahead, absolutely dumbfounded. “Your blood is purple,” I said again. I was going well over eighty miles per hour, and I’m ashamed to say I didn’t even see the road ahead.
“Shut up and drive!”
Somehow, I got us onto a highway. Draiyan directed me to a bridge
For all his bone-shuddering exhaustion, Tyr couldn’t sleep. In the ruddy half-light, he could make out his brother’s prone form, huddled on the thin blanket they used as a bed. His breathing was slow, steady.
At least one of them would be rested before they escaped.
Tyr curled his knees to his chest.
CT hunched his shoulders against the drizzle and the gazes of other pedestrians, his hood pulled up to hide his face. Neon signs colored the sidewalk and steel buildings odd tones in the night. Between the hordes of people, he glimpsed an officer ahead and swung toward a video advertisement sign, feigning interest.
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The signal was weak but unmistakable: the rebel waypoint. They had made it!
Staggering through thick forest undergrowth, Sam and Tony picked up their pace as much as Sam’s mangled leg would allow. Even though Tony helped support Sam’s weight, every step sent a spear of pain shooting up his hastily bandaged leg,
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The bounty hunter turned to stone, hatred etched permanently on his features. Veyja stumbled away as the reptilian mass that passed for hair among her kind hissed in satisfaction. Her hand went to her throat and came back stained with a tiny drop of blood drawn by the tip of the hunter’s dagger.
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When fleeing the country, was it normal to feel like a rat stuck on a skinny branch above a pack of snarling wolves?
Even though tonight I would leave forever, I swept dust off the floors, checked for cobwebs in the spick-and-span nooks and corners, and comforted myself that I would no longer face this tangle of shelves, gadgets, and shadows every evening.
Something happened today, and if Papa finds out…
He can’t know.
He can’t know I have Voices.
When I first heard the murmurs early this morning, I almost jumped out of bed and ran to tell him. I’m lucky I caught myself. If he knew his apprentice—his own son—was a Voicer… I already disappoint him enough.
An explosion shook the prison compound. Khalen leapt off his cot and sprinted over to the forcefield that served as a door. The guards at the end of the hall were reaching for weapons and bolting toward the outer courtyard.
A brilliant flash came from behind Khalen.
I swallowed past the pain burning like a boulder in my throat. It resisted. I swallowed again, the lump searing into my soul as I trembled.
Again… I was back in the game again. Trapped in this place of darkness.
My car stood as I’d left it—a broken-down heap of trash
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