Storm warning sirens wail around me as I run through Arling’s central market. The wind whips the sand up into my face and it cuts into my skin as I plow forward through the crowds pushing to get inside, away from the storm. I glance back for just a moment, adjusting my scarf over my nose and mouth. The two precinct security officers are gaining on me, and with people trying to flee the storm I start to lose the advantage that hiding between people gave me. It doesn’t help that I only have the use of one of my hands—the other clutches the package stolen from Baron Anders’ estate.
I face forward again and sprint headlong into the oncoming wind.
The sirens and panicked shouts of people grow louder around me. I can just hear the officers ordering people out of the way as they chase me through the alleys between weathered concrete houses.
This was too much of a risk. My father’s only condition for doing work for Demos was that I don’t do anything to incriminate myself. Now here I am running from guards of the estate of the baron himself. My father is going to be furious. Of course, that’s only if I make it home alive.
A steady stream of people flows towards the outer edges of the market, some too far from home to take shelter from the storm. All of the restaurants and shops will be full. It would be the perfect place to hide... if it weren’t so obvious.
I slip into the crowd moving into a brightly lit Mexicana restaurant, slow enough that I know the officers can see me. If I think it’s an obvious place to hide, they might too. They might try to follow me in. The crush of the throng trying to get to safety pulls me in towards the doors.
The sun is blotted out by an encroaching black cloud and a child next to me shrieks.
Finally pushing my way through to the other side, I press against the wall and slip behind the back of the restaurant. The wind pulls at my scarf, and I fix it once more with both of my hands. I freeze, eyes going wide for a split second until I’m forced to narrow them against the onslaught of razor-sharp sand.
I had dropped the package somewhere. It was just a bunch of papers; damage wasn’t a concern. But if I lost it, we’d lose months of work. and if one of the guards got ahold of it, they would have grounds to execute me on the spot.
I plow back into the crowd, staying as low to the ground as possible as I retrace my steps. There, dirty and trampled, was the flat package from the baron’s servant who had met me out the back to deliver it. Files from the baron’s own office. As my fingers curl around the package, a hand grips my arm, jerking me backwards.
“I’ve got her!” The officer shouts and within a moment, I’m being dragged out into the windswept street.
The other officer frowns. “Where’s that…thing she was holding?”
“What?” The first officer turns to look at me.
“I didn’t have anything,” I say, “I was visiting a friend at the Water Baron’s estate, he’s a servant there. When I heard the storm sirens I knew I had to get home.” The lie slips easily between my lips, not too articulate, not to hesitant.
“Then why did you run from us?”
My heart beats a little faster but I will the shaking in my hands to stop. “I’m…I’m not supposed to be out. My father would kill me if he knew I was out right before a storm.” It is true and there will be hell to pay if I get home but I have to get home first.
The grip on my shoulder relaxes. The second officer shakes his head. “I swore she was holding something.”
My hand goes to my pocket, and I almost sigh in relief as I pull out the thick, folded piece of paper. “He gave me his work schedule so I would know when to see him again.”
The one holding me snatches the paper from my hands, scrutinizing it, but it is indeed a work schedule. I needed some way of knowing when our contact within the estate would be ready for me. He swears under his breath and lets go of my arm.
“What’s your name?” The second officer asks.
“Eridein.”
He narrows his eyes and for a moment I think he’s going to demand my surname as well. There are a few Erideins in the Corona precinct, but there’s only one Eridein Kaspers in Calida.
The first officer shakes his head, putting a hand on his partner’s arm. “We don’t have time for this. We need to get inside.” I’m given a brief glare of suspicion before they turn away from me, conversing as they duck into a shop.
I don’t let my guard drop until they’re out of sight. Then, I whisper a quick “thank you” to the sky. They were dangerously close to information I wasn’t willing to give. If that officer had so much as pressed for my last name I don’t know if I would be alive. The Kaspers are infamous traitors. Anything incriminating me would be a blow against my family and the revolution we represent.
The envelope is partially ripped open and covered in dusty footprints by the time I retrieve it. As soon as it’s in my hands I break into a dead sprint across the deserted road towards my house. Thunder rumbles behind me and my skin prickles at the rising electricity in the air.
The sky goes dark all at once, and lightning strobes in the clouds around me. I push myself to run faster, my breath coming in sharp gasps now as my side start to ache. I’ve pushed myself too hard and my legs are aching. There’s no way that I can outrun this storm.
My foot hits the ground wrong and I nearly fall as pain shoots up my leg. I limp forward, telling myself I have to keep moving even as I’m hissing in pain with every step.
Is it worth trying to bang on a few doors to see if anyone will let me in? Even if they hear me through all of the growing thunder, I could already be home by the time they do. And if they don’t, that means precious moments lost for nothing. Adrenaline spikes through my body at the thought of becoming just another statistic lost to the storms, the extra energy burning hotter than any lightning strike.
I shake off the pain in my foot and roll my shoulders to steel my nerves. All right. I guess I’m running from the storm.
No sooner have I started running than the electricity in the air spikes to an audible hum. I throw myself to the ground, skidding a little on the pavement, praying that the various lightning rods and buildings are a much easier path to the ground than me. For a split second, the black sky gives way to a burst of bright white.
I rattle off a long string of curses as I push myself to my feet, staying as low to the ground as I can. I push through the wind, my knuckles white from the grip on the envelope between my fingers. If the storm carried it off, I might as well let myself be struck by lightning. Without the leverage from the information inside it, neither I nor my father will have any protection from the nobility.
The part of me screaming in terror tries to justify stopping. I could wait out the storm. But there’s no good way to survive this. With my luck the storm would last hours and it would only take me another few minutes at a steady jog to reach my door.
I take a few quick, deep breaths before breaking into a run. The sand slices into every bit of exposed skin, carried by the wind like an invisible hand trying to push me back but I continue forward. With all of the street lights off to preserve what little of a power grid we have, the only thing keeping me going is memory and instinct. The thunder vibrates through the ground, shaking my whole body. There’s no delay between the thunder and lightning. I’m right in the middle of the storm.
My heart slams in my chest, in time with my feet pounding against the ground. I can see my street up ahead, marked by a tall yucca bush. I duck my head and push myself to go faster, every breath hissing between my teeth.
When I see my front door, I cry out in relief, although the sound is ripped away and carried off into the storm. The howling wind makes it impossible to hear anything besides the raw fury of nature anyways.
Another buzz of electricity shoots up my neck but I’m not fast enough to respond. Light explodes in front of me, and I stumble backwards. My ears ring. My vision goes white. my ears ringing and my vision completely white. I can’t even tell if it hit me or not. I don’t think so. My heart is still beating. Would it still be beating if I had been hit?
It takes a painfully long time before I can see again, and then everything’s out of focus and tinted with black dots. Every time I blink, I see the afterimage of a spike of electricity crashing to the earth.
I get to my feet slowly. Every muscle in my body feels tight, like I forgot to stretch after running, and my head explodes with pain. Or maybe it hurt all along and I was too stunned to notice.
The envelope is still in my hands. I had managed to hang on to it, despite being literally inches from death. Stumbling forward, I make it to my door, turning the knob and nearly falling over the threshold. When I’ve slammed the door behind me I lean against it, tilting my head back to look at the ceiling. My ears still ring.
I kick off the door with my foot and turn into the living room where my father sits, his feet propped up on the ottoman and a dark look across his face.
“You’d better have a solid reason for going out when you knew there was a storm today.”
I hold up the package of papers. “I thought you might want this.” I toss it to him.
He rips open what’s left of the envelope. Papers spill out over his lap, dossiers of the different families that control the water and electricity and food, including records of financial weaknesses, crimes that the monarchy has tried to cover up. Records we’ve risked our lives to obtain. Me most of all now, I guess.
I collapse onto the sofa next to him as he picks up one of the papers, humming softly. “You were doing work for Demos? In the middle of a storm?”
“In my defense, I didn’t go out in the storm. I thought I would be back in time.” I should have been home before the storm hit, but between the storm blowing in early and the precinct officers interrogating me, I didn’t have much of a choice.
My father shakes head. “You shouldn’t have been doing this at all.”
I turn to face him. “I thought you wanted my help.”
“No, I agreed to not stop you, Eridein.”
“So I’m just supposed to let everyone else around me fight for freedom while I sit around unable to contribute?” I get to my feet, folding my arms over my chest. “I know that I don’t have the same protection that you do, but I’ve been careful.”
“You haven’t been careful enough!” My father roars, and I take a step back. He pulls an envelope from his pocket, shaking it hard enough that the only thing I can make out is the golden seal pressed onto the front. “Someone caught on, Eri!”
He runs a hand through his hair, letting his other hand drop to his side without handing me the envelope. I take it from him but pause as I start opening it. The seal on the front isn’t just gold. It’s stamped with the seal of the Golden Court. My stomach leaps up into my throat.
This is a mandate from the prince himself.
“You think…you think this is a call for my execution?” My throat goes dry.
“For both of us. Evidence against you is evidence against me and there’s only so much Baron Anders can do for me in the ways of protection. It is addressed to you, though.” He takes a shaky breath. “Eridein, if this is a death warrant, you have to leave. Go out to Moreno with your mother and sister.”
I turn away from my father without replying, sliding my finger underneath the seal. Inside is a single sheet of heavy white paper. I unfold it and see the crisp black writing. Before I can read it, my father tugs it from my hands. “You don’t have to read it.”
I nod and relinquish the paper. He clears his throat before reading aloud in his soft voice. “To Eridein Kaspers, daughter of Keliar Kaspers, you have been summoned to the Golden Court in Belvedere, Rubidoux Precinct,” he stops reading and I flinch, waiting for the inevitable line sealing my death. It’s a little odd that they’re calling me directly to the palace. Usually they would just execute criminals in the precinct square. There’s a sharp intake of breath before he continues reading. Is it that bad?
When he starts again, his voice is firmer. “You have been summoned to to Belvedere on personal invitation to... join as a member of the court.”
“What?” I whirl around, trying to pull the paper from his hands but he doesn’t let go.
“As you know, his beloved highness, Prince Ferand Ryani Hollis has recently turned of age and in accordance with tradition has invited you and four other suitors to the palace in order to choose an advantageous match.”
I suddenly can’t catch my breath, like I’m still winded from the lightning strike.
They don’t want to execute me. They want to crown me.
My father doesn’t smile. I’m sure four other girls are being showered with adulation by their parents but my father doesn’t even look up from the letter. He doesn’t say a word.
“They don’t want to kill me, dad,” I say, my voice just loud enough to be heard over the storm still sweeping through outside, “This a good thing.” I laugh, my shoulders sagging forward in relief.
My father doesn’t smile. I fall quiet again and after a long silence, he finally replies. “This may forestall execution, but it’s not enough to keep you safe. We’re only a friend to the nobles and we sure as hell aren’t rich. So either they want to match you with Ferand in attempt to soothe tensions between the monarchy and Demos, or they want you here so that you’re away from my protection.” He meets my gaze. “And Eridein, they’re going to kill you either way.”