Scarred(Never After #2)(92)
The rumbles grow louder.
Then Sheina steps forward, and my heart pounds. “He brings you food, he clothes your babes.”
Gratefulness wraps around my chest and tugs. “He’s risked his life to give you yours,” I cut in. “But this isn’t just about him. I will get him back with or without your help. This is about standing up and seizing the moment. About vengeance for every time they’ve killed someone for simply speaking truth. For every curse, and every name, every bruised and broken bone as they screamed you weren’t worthy.”
Faces change in the crowd, an electric feeling pulsing through the air, building higher with each second.
“I’m not great with words,” I continue. “I can’t wrap the atrocities of what has been and realities of what will come in a pretty bow and make it look like it’s in your favor.”
I slam my fist against my chest. “But together we rule, and divided we fall. I am asking you—begging you—to stand with me. There is no one better to lead you than Tristan Faasa. And he deserves your fight, the same way he has always fought for you.”
Belinda is the first to fall, her head bowed, a loud wail crying from her throat. And then, as if in slow motion, others follow.
One by one, they sink on bended knee, a chant starting slowly. At first, I don’t understand what it is they say, but it grows and rolls over the air and hits my chest as surely as if they struck me in the heart.
“Long live the queen! Long live the queen!”
Tears spring in my eyes as I look over them, staring down at the people—my people—the lifeblood of Gloria Terra, trusting me to lead them to their king.
“We are warriors!” I raise my voice until it’s soaring over their heads like arrows. “This is the revolution! And it’s time for us to take back our home.”
CHAPTER 52
Tristan
“Psst.”
My eyes struggle to open, my head foggy as I come to. And once I do, I wish I hadn’t because there isn’t a single piece of me that doesn’t ache. My bones feel brittle, my muscles atrophied from lack of use, and I’m quite certain it’s been days since I’ve had a drink of water.
“Tristan,” a small voice chokes out, and when it registers who it is, then I do force my lids open, staring down into the horrified face of Simon, his toy sword limp at his side and his face scrunched in terror. “What have they done to you?”
My tongue swipes over my chapped lips and my mouth pries itself apart, unsticking my dry tongue from the roof. “Little lion,” I rasp out. “You shouldn’t be here.”
His eyes glance around the courtyard, the sun setting behind the horizon and casting an orangey glow on the ground. I flick my gaze to the guard standing at the side, his eyes looking at Simon and then to me, but not moving from his spot.
“Leave, Simon.” I try to infuse strength in my voice but come up short.
He hiccups, stepping closer, and when he does, the guard moves too, tightening his grip on the rifle at his side.
“Simon. Leave.” Urgency spreads through me.
He shakes his head, big fat tears spilling from his eyes. “I can’t… Where’s lady? Why isn’t she here?” His voice grows manic. “She could save you, why di-did they do—”
“Simon.” Pain tears through my side, the scabbed over wounds reopening, and I grimace. “Go to your mother, okay? I’ll be fine. This is just…”
The guard moves over now, stepping in front of me and blocking my view, and my chest splits open, realizing that this is the last time I’ll ever see Simon’s face. The last time I’ll get to hear his voice or tell him he’s strong. The last moment that he’ll see me and know that I’m not.
He doesn’t even know we’re family.
Simon rages, throwing his toy sword up at the guard. “Unhand him.”
The guard chuckles. “Might want to work on that roar, kid. Get out of here. I don’t want to hurt you.”
Something cracks in the distance and all of our eyes turn toward the noise.
“What was that?” the guard asks.
Another sound, this time closer, and although I can’t explain it, a feeling trickles down my spine, infusing me with a bit of strength.
Simon’s gaze locks on mine. “I’m going to save you.”
Panic wraps around my middle, not knowing what’s about to happen, but feeling in my gut that whatever it is, it’s no place for him to be. “Someone already is,” I lie. “Go wait for me in the tunnels, okay?” My voice is breathy, and weak. “I’ll meet you there.”
His lower lip trembles. “Promise?”
“Promise.”
Something tugs at my wrists, causing the worst physical pain of my life as my arms drop from where they’ve been hung. My eyes spring open, meeting the silent, pitch black of the night, and my body drops to the ground.
Delicate hands grab at my face, and I try to shake the fog from my mind so I can focus on what’s in front of me.
Something in the air has shifted.
Something has changed.
Water dribbles over me, and I tilt my head back, opening my mouth, gulping the liquid, allowing it to soothe my parched throat and sore muscles. Finally, logic filters back in and Sara’s beautiful, perfect features come into my view, looking like an angel of death as she grins.