Page 46 of Eyes of Kings

“She also saw Galipei Weisanna.”

A sharp spasm crosses Calla’s forehead.Fuck. Suddenly the screeching flood alarms make more sense.

“I’ll go,” Calla decides. Her sword is holstered. She’s dressed suitably. “Can you stay here and defend the palace?”

Anton nods. Just as Calla turns, he grabs her wrist. She stiffens. It would be rather ungracious to tug away, so she fights against instinct and keeps her arm still. She meets Anton’s gaze, silently asking what is wrong.

“Be careful,” he says.

Is that all?

“I always am.” Calla extricates her arm gently, and Anton’s lips part asthough he might protest. Whatever he wants to say, he must think better of it, opting for a short nod instead. His eyes have yet to regain their yellow glow. They are only black when Calla hurries away, beelining for the nearest palace exit.

She would have assumed the alarms sent most Crescents out into the streets, but the north wing is teeming with them, convening at the doors. Discussing where the clerics are meeting, debating whether they are to act ahead of time. When Calla appears, the Crescents turn to stare.

No one is kneeling this time.

“Princess Calla,” one of them says. “There is nothing for you to worry about. We have forces heading to the wall already.”

“Please move aside,” she returns.

“You are to stay put,” another instructs. “Your jurisdiction in San-Er is purely symbolic.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Calla plunges forward. When a Crescent reaches out, grabbing her shoulder, her crown pulses. It shoves him aside. It shoves every Crescent into the wall. Her exit from the palace is hardly subtle while the Crescents scream out, limbs and elbows crushing against one another. As soon as she hits the city’s alleys, San-Er’s inhabitants halt in their steps, staring at the yellow light she’s brought out into this rain.

“Your Majesty!” a little girl bellows excitedly. Her dress is a faded pink, patches of blue felt sewn over the fraying hems. She’s selling flowers by the palace, but the display box slung around her neck belongs to a shop in Er.

Calla considers stopping. Kneeling and taking the girl by the hand. Asking,What have you been taught? Who do you think I am?

The alarms screech louder. Calla grits her teeth and runs in the other direction.

CHAPTER 22

She decides to use the rooftops.

It’s what San-Er is good for. The densely packed buildings. The teeming twin cities. Despite the expansion of the wall, the structure of San has changed very little. Calla can still dart from one building to the other without trouble, bracing her knees against the shock. She doesn’t look down. If she falls, the awnings will catch her.

Unfortunately, the alarms are unbearably loud from above. She has half a mind to kick out some of these speakers, make some attempt at dampening the noise. But time is of the essence, and there is little value to destroying a few when the entirety of San-Er is screaming. Calla picks up the pace, gritting her teeth.

She arrives at the western edge of the city just in time to see the building ahead collapse in on itself.

It’s there one second, then gone the next. Calla, aghast, draws to a halt. Ten floors of concrete and wood, glass windows and sturdy furniture that residents pushed up the stairs when they first gained the keys to their place. She can only stare in horror as each floor eats the one above it, as the building loses its shape and becomes a mound of rubble. The sound is deafening, booming over the alarms. It has taken her too long to arrive. This section of San’s wall has already been decimated.

“Yilas!” Calla shouts into the rain. Her heart is pounding. “Yilas, are you here?”

No response. It was a long shot, thinking her voice would carry to her friend. Calla rushes for the entry hatch into the building and slips through, taking the stairs down with all possible haste. Who knows if these apartments will collapse suddenly too? When she bursts into an alley, she can barely see through the clouds of ash accompanying the various sites of rubble. Some buildings have their top halves missing. Others have been entirely uprooted from the ground.

Calla draws her sword. She doesn’t know what she’s going to find, so she should reserve her energy. Despite the effort to label themheretics, she will not deny the damage that these individuals have proved themselves capable of.

Movement, in the corner of Calla’s eye. She turns fast, squinting through the rainfall, but it’s only civilians running from the damage, sticking close to the cliffs and heading south to avoid the war zone. Yilas said it was only Galipei, not a group of Weisannas. But why come alone, why cause destruction for the sake of it?

Another flicker, up ahead. Calla wishes this incessant rain would stop. She can’t fuckingsee.

“Yilas!” Calla bellows. “Yilas, where are you?”

She races toward the destroyed building. There is noise from underneath the rubble: the foundation is made of metal, and one corner juts out beyond the chunks of rock and brick bestrewn into the alley. Calla, following a gut feeling, casts a nervous look toward San’s wall, then pulls at her qi. She shoves the largest piece of rubble aside.