Page 228 of Seasons of War
“No. You?”
“No.”
A fresh wave of screaming burst with the gunfire. Miya peeked over Lance’s shoulder. The Ciondian troops invaded the surrounding buildings. The only Royal Guard she saw lay on the ground dead, heavily outnumbered.
“It’s started,” she said. “Ciondo struck first. Caspador is at war.”
“We have to find a way out of the city.”
“No,” Miya said. “Follow me. I have a spot. Someone will meet us there. They will.” Miya never did a job in a new city without a place to hide that no one else knew about. She left the address in her message to Ashantae in case of an emergency. While Miya wasn't quick to trust, Zayne seemed like he had too much to lose to partner with anyone unreliable. Ashantae would come.
“Who?” Lance asked.
Too hard to explain now. Her mind fixated on fleeing, not talking. Miya gripped his hand with both of hers and ducked as she moved for the closest ladder.
Rumbling caught her attention. She scanned the horizon. “What is that?”
Lance pointed. “Look.”
A caravan of military vehicles and tanks encroached upon the city in the distance. Turning, she saw more troops coming from two other directions. Fear pounded hot in her temples. Had they come to occupy the city or to lay it to waste?
Miya had told Lance she couldn’t run anymore, but why did she have to pick the day Caspador went to war to say that?
Below them, the alleys teemed with civilians. The soldiers had broken down the door of the offices, but no one inside had fled. Her stomach churned. They'd killed all the government workers.
She tugged on Lance’s hand. “We can go from one roof to the next until we escape the crowd. It’ll be safer than on the ground.”
They started down the ladder when Miya’s heart caught. The body of a woman lay at the bottom, her wrist snapped and head bloodied. Broken glass covered the ground. Even a door. Some people fled, but others crawled into the buildings and sought shelter. She stepped around the woman to stand against the wall while Lance descended.
They ran for a fire escape at the next building, sidestepping the people around them. Someone slammed into Miya and knocked her away from Lance. He caught her arm, pulling her against his chest.
Another person thudded into him. If they got separated for a second, it would be okay. She knew that. But it felt like if either one of them let go, they’d get sucked away into the chaos.
On the next rooftop, dozens of people knelt or lay down, hiding and waiting. Miya crawled for the edge, Lance at her side. Her eyes widened. Groups of soldiers marched in all different directions into the city. There was no one left in the town square. Why did she still hear gunfire? Screaming?
“They’re… They’re shooting us.” Miya’s voice shook. “Not just the soldiers and officials. Civilians.”
Why would the Phaedra do something so blatant when he wanted his place on the world stage? How could he get away with this?
Miya and Lance held one another, lying on the roof, covering each other with their hands and arms, with flesh useless against the violence. And she knew as she listened to the thunder of war—to the percussion of bullets shredding the innocent—that the world didn't care what happened here. Three years was enough time for the public to forget, and for the leaders of other countries tomake any deals they wanted with an emperor who slaughtered his people in the streets.
The shrieking sounded like rain, constant and steady amid the undulations of gunfire. Lance pulled her deeper beneath the cover of his shoulder, and she stretched to keep her hands cupping his head, like that could protect him.
What if the captain found them here? What would he do?
“Miya…” Lance's voice broke through the noise. “You hear that?”
She shook her head.
“They’ve gone past. Miya, they’ve moved past us. Listen.”
Her eyes slid open. She looked up to see Lance’s pale face. They trembled in each other's arms.
“Don't be afraid,” she whispered, even though she was terrified too. Her hand slid from the back of his head to his cheek, wiping away his tears.
Lance's thumbs smoothed beneath her eyes, drying hers as well. “I think it might be good to be scared. One day, we might not be able to feel it. This is the start. It'll only get worse. We have to stay human. We have to stay hopeful, and brave, and afraid, and everything that makes us real. Don't give that up to them.”
“Okay.” Miya first focused on Lance as her mark, and then on getting rid of him, and never did she give him the opportunity to stand with her. To fight alongside her. He'd been here every day since they met, even when she pushed him away, committed to doing right by her when he owed her nothing. Lance was a good man. A good friend. And Miya had refused to see his depth or appreciate his wisdom. “You're not the biggest pain in the ass I've ever met.”
