Glass Sword Page 107

*

I can’t sit any longer, and also acquire out of my chair as quick as I have the right to. The safety belts dangle in my wake, jingling together. I carry out what I must, what I wish I didn’t have to, and take Nanny by the arm. She also feels favor Maven.

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“Look with people,” I tell her, my voice muffled by the helmet. “Smile without kindness. No small talk, no court talk. Act as if you have actually a million keys, and also you’re the only one essential enough to understand them all.”

She nods, taking this all in stride. After all, Cal and I have both instructed her on exactly how to pass as Maven. This is just a reminder, a last glance at the book before the test. “I’m not a fool,” she replies coldly, and I practically punch her in the jaw. She is not Maven rings in my head, louder than a bell.

“I think you’ve gained it,” Kilorn claims as he stands. He grabs my arm, pulling me slightly away. “Mare practically eliminated you.”

“Everyone ready?” Farley shouts from the rear of the jet. Her hand also hovers next to the ramp release, eager to press it.

“Form up!” Cal barks, sounding a little bit also a lot like a drill sergeant. But we respond, falling right into the ordered lines he taught us, via Nanny at the head. He takes her side, falling right into the function of her many lethal bodyguard.

“Let’s make some bad decisions,” Farley says. I have the right to practically hear her smiling as she pushes the release.

A hiss—then gears turn, wires pulse, and also the back of the jet yawns open to greet the last morning some of us will ever before view.

A dozen soldiers wait a respectable distance from the Blackrun, their development tight and practiced. At the sight of the newblood masquerading as their king, they snap right into stiff, perfect salutes. One hand also to the heart, one knee to the ground. The human being looks darker behind the shield of my flight helmet, but it doesn’t hide the clouded gray of their army unidevelops, or the squat, unassuming compound behind them. No bronze gates, no diamondglass walls—tbelow aren’t also home windows. Just a solitary, flat brick of concrete stretching out right into the abandoned areas of this wasteland also. Corros Priboy. I allow myself one glance ago at the craft and also the runmeans stretching into the distance wbelow shadows and also radiation dance. I have the right to simply check out a pair of airjets idling in the gimpend, their steel bellies full and also round. Prikid planes, supplied to move the captured. And if all goes to plan, they’ll watch activity again soon.

We approach Corros in silence, trying to march in action. Cal flanks Nanny, one fist permanently clenched at his side, while I trail just behind, via Cameron on my left and also Shade on the appropriate. Farley and also Kilorn store to the facility of the development, never letting go of their firearms. The air itself seems electrified, coursing with hazard.

It is not fatality I are afraid, not anymore. I’ve confronted dying as well many times to be afraid of it. But the prison itself, the assumed of being recorded, compelled right into chains, turned right into the Queen’s mindmuch less puppet—that I cannot bear. I would certainly quite die a hundred times than face such a fate. So would certainly any type of of us.

“Your Highness,” among the soldiers states, daring to look up at the perkid he believes to be king. The badge on his breastern, 3 crossed swords in red steel, note him as a captain. The bars on his shoulders, bideal red and blue, have the right to only be his home colors. Housage Iral. “Welcome to Corros Priboy.”

As instructed, Nanny looks straight via him, waving one pale hand also in dismissal. That must be sufficient to convince anyone of her expected identification. But as the soldiers stand also, the captain’s eyes flick over us, noting our very own uniforms—and the absence of Sentinels accompanying the imperial soveregime. He hesitates on Cal, one razored glance focusing on his helmet. He claims nopoint, yet, and also his soldiers autumn right into development alongside us, their footactions echoing via ours. Haven, Osanos, Provos, Macanthos, Eagrie—I note the acquainted colors on a few uniforms. The last, House Eagrie, the House of Eyes, is our initially taracquire. I tug on Cameron’s sleeve, nodding gently towards the bearded blond guy via darting eyes and white-and-babsence stripes on his shoulder.

She inclines her head, and her fists round at her sides in quiet concentration. The raid has actually begun.

The captain takes Nanny’s various other side, stepping in front of me so smoothly I badepend notice. A silk. He has the very same tanned skin, gleaming babsence hair, and angled functions of Sonya Iral and her grandmommy, the sleekly dangerous Panther. I have the right to only hope the captain is not so talented at intrigue as she is, or else this is going to be a lot more hard than expected.

“Your specifications are practically completed, Your Highness,” he claims. There’s a prickling air to his words. “Eexceptionally cell block is individually sealed, as instructed, and also the next distribution of Silent Stone arrives tomorrow through the new unit of guards.”

“Good,” Nanny replies, sounding uninterested. Her pace quickens a little, and the captain adjusts in kind, keeping up with her. Cal does the very same, and also we follow. It looks prefer a chase.

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While the Security Center of Harbor Bay was a beautiful framework, a vision of carved rock and also sparkling glass, Corros is as gray and also hopeless as the waste approximately it. Only the entrance, a single, black-iron door collection flush against the wall, breaks the monotony of the priboy. No hinges, no lock or handle—the door looks prefer an abyss, like a gaping mouth. But I feel electricity, bleeding about the edges, originating from a small square panel set beside it. The key switch. As with Cameron sassist. The essential itself dangles from a black chain at Iral’s neck, yet he doesn’t pull it loose.

There are cameras also, beady bit eyes trained on the door. They don’t bother me in the slightest. I care even more about the silk captain and his soldiers, that have actually us surrounded, and keep us marching forward.