When I was a child brought before the emperor, things seemed so simple. I’m only fifteen now, and the world is out of control. I can’t fight them all—Phaestion, my father, The Companions, my teachers, the Pantheon. The strong devour the weak, war drives civilization, and pain is the only constant.
“If you believe what you say,” I call to the old man, “then you’ll have the courage to face it.” I turn to the Julii Academy soldier who still stands behind me and say, “Come.”
“Edmon!” Jorund shouts. “Leaders are supposed to help people. Not use them.”
“Sir?” The Julii soldier catches my attention. He points out scores of other soldiers creeping from the alleys. He taps a finger to the side of his helm.
He’s receiving orders. I need to get out of here. Fast.
I turn back to Jorund, trying to end the confrontation and save both sides. “I’ve heard your words. Please, I’ll do what I can. Right now you must go home.”
Cries ring out from the back of the mob. The soldier beside me runs past and plunges his pike into Jorund’s chest.
Jorund wears a ghastly expression of surprise, his mouth open in the shape of a perfect circled O. His breath exhales with a hiss. Blood gurgles from his lips as he collapses.
“No!” I scream.
Run, boy, run. But I don’t run. Neither does the boy with the cleft palate, Alaric. The Julii soldier grabs the child’s head and twists, snapping his neck.
What have I done?
I’m a second too late as I tackle the soldier. I lift him off the ground and hurl him as far as I can. He lands on the pavement a few meters away with a sickening crunch.
Julii soldiers now plow into the crowd with Plexiglas shields and spears. Their black armor shines slick with blood in the dimness of the fireglobes.
“Stop!” I shout. “I order you, stop!”
I run into the morass. I smash my fists into their helmets. I sweep them off their feet with my pike. It is pell-mell, but soon the death throes of the crowd fade. Before long, the only sounds are my own exertions. I scream as I kick one soldier to the ground. I swing my pike in a wide arc, smacking another.
Every civilian is on the ground, dead or dying. I’m the last standing, and I’m surrounded, even as I sob with rage. Bodies are strewn everywhere. Blood flows into the gutters and drains of the arco.
The child soldiers lower their pikes toward me. Their orders to kill the mob fulfilled, I’m their prey again.
CHAPTER 10
BANDA CONTINUO
“Should I just leave you, Edmon?” Hanschen sits on top of a fireglobe pole.
How the hell did he get there?
“It would certainly mean less competition.” He laughs.
I take advantage of the academy soldiers’ distraction. I sprint, breaking through their defenses, and hurtle down the avenue. I swerve left into an alley. A metal wall blocks the end of the narrow passage. I run full speed ahead anyway. I drive the point of my pike into a pile of refuse and vault off the end. I let go of the shaft and reach, my fingers barely snagging the edge of a ventilation grate. I try to tear the grate off its hinges, but I’m just not strong enough. I hang, helpless.
“Edmon!” I risk a turn and see my little brother running down the alley behind me.
Edgaard, too? Where did he come from?
Hanschen follows closely behind and, behind them both, sprint the soldiers. The jump is too high for either of them, but Edgaard jumps anyway. He leaps higher than I would have thought possible. Still, it’s not enough. I swing my legs out at just the right moment, and he miraculously catches them. His small, strong hands clasp my ankles. Then I feel the unbearable weight of Hanschen grabbing the human chain as well. I cry out.
“Let go, Hanschen!” screams Edgaard.
The soldiers crowd below and hurl their pikes to bring us down. One ricochets off the wall centimeters from my head.
“I just saved you, Edmon!” Hanschen screams.
He’s right. More than that, he’s not going to sacrifice himself so that we can escape. There’s only one option . . .
“Climb!” I growl.
I grip the grate as tight as I can. Hanschen scrambles over us. He mashes his boot into my face as he reaches the grating. He quickly unscrews it, unblocking the duct. He hurls it at an oncoming Julii soldier like a discus, sending the boy sprawling to the pavement.
“Pull us up!” I demand. Another spear clatters against the wall near my head.
“Tell Edgaard to give me the data card first.”
“What?” Edgaard captured the data card?
“Only if you promise not to let us fall!” Edgaard shouts.
“Don’t do it, Edgaard! We have no guarantee he’ll help us after you give it to him,” I say.
I can’t hold on much longer.
This is Phaestion’s doing—pitting us against one another, holding us down. The Companions are all scions of noble houses, each with just as much claim to leadership as him. Yet, here he has us fighting one another at his whim. How is this his vision of working together?
My hands strain as the duct edge cuts into my skin.
All those innocent people were murdered in the street a few moments ago, I realize. I’m no leader if I couldn’t do anything to stop what happened. I shouldn’t be here. I should be at the Sophia Academy with The Maestro.
“Edgaard, give him the card. Hanschen, save Edgaard. He’s no physical threat to you.”
“Edmon, no!” Edgaard cries.
“I wasn’t going to win this one anyway, brother. Hanschen?” I demand.
Hanschen nods. Edgaard tosses up a small black cube and climbs up over me. Then Hanschen, the bastard, tries to push Edgaard off. My brother is too quick, though. They struggle. I feel myself slipping. I contract my abdominal muscles and use my bloody fingers to pull myself up. I plow into them both, and we tumble down the ventilation chute.
We struggle. Falling through darkness, I’m punching and kicking. My fist connects with something. I hear a crack. Hanschen cries out. I’ve broken his rib. There’s a light at the end of the tunnel.
“Hang on!” I scream to Edgaard. His hands wrap around my torso. We free-fall for a gut-lurching beat before we smack into a pile of garbage.
Hanschen scrambles to his feet and wades through the junk as quickly as he can.
“You all right?” I ask my brother.
Edgaard nods. I breathe, but I can’t afford a moment to understand all that has happened in the last few minutes. I have to find a way out of this. “Come on. We’ve got to move. We can still catch him,” I say.
“Edmon, we don’t need to.” Edgaard pulls from his pocket a golden ring inlaid with a glittering diamond—the data card. It’s a silicon storage device, billions of yottabytes embedded in the crystal.
“By the twisted star!” I snag it from him, holding it to the dim light of the arcology fireglobes. “How?”
“I threw him an empty box. He didn’t check it.”
I smile and rub the top of Edgaard’s helmet. He beams at me through his mask. Then his smile fades. “Edmon, give it back.”