Emory glanced ahead. She had promised herself that she would give the rebels a chance. She hadn’t really warmed up to being killed by a rogue raider or dabarne. She shut the door a little too firmly behind her.
Sighing, she looked down the hallway, her heart skipping a beat, hoping to see Brokk’s golden gaze. She was about to ask Memphis where the General was when it started. There was a high-pitched screeching, like nails on chalk boards, and every single person stood to attention. Memphis’s color drained, and he gripped her hand hard.
“What’s that?” Her voice sounded as small as she felt.
“Air raids. We have to move. Everyone, a code blue. This is not a drill!” He shouted the last bit out in the hall, and the residents of the Academy filed out toward the cells, Memphis towing her along.
The first wave hit, and Emory thought the world was going to split open. The ground shuddered, as Emory was ricocheted off balance. Memphis steadied her as they came to the cells, and Memphis opened the door, quickly getting them in and shutting it firmly behind them.
Emory trembled, whispering, “What about the others?”
Memphis slid to a seated position against the wall, closing his eyes. “They all know what to do in these situations in order to reach the cells. Adair periodically does air raids, trying to flush us out. We found out the hard way that he has concocted a gas that not only immobilizes you but neutralizes your ability. These cells are made of kieronian steel, so even if the gas gets in our ventilation, we have to wait twenty-four hours for it to flush out.” He sighed. “We wait it out like the other times.”
Memphis said this like they were discussing the weather. Sadness took her breath away at the fact they lived in a world like this.
Because you wanted to escape to save yourself.
The honesty in the thought struck deeply, and she sat down next to Memphis, feeling the tension and heat rolling off his body.
“What happened to Adair?”
This close, Memphis’s full lashes made his blue eyes hypnotic as he stared at her, weighing her question. “He was my friend, as well, at school. Your parents shaped this world into something worth being proud of, their unconditional love nurturing us all into believing we are more than our ability. That we aren’t monsters. Adair was no exception. He has started a wildfire that can’t be put out, and the result of that is this war.”
Emory replied, “Isn’t the Academy considered strong?”
Memphis cocked his eyebrow at her. “We are the only ones left who are strong enough to give Adair a run for his money. We fight now for all the innocent lives he took, for shattering your parents’ legacy. We fight for them, for their love, and for our freedom.”
Emory sighed, letting his words settle in her core. Silence seemed to suffocate them in the cell as bomb after bomb was dropped above ground. In that moment, such an absurd idea struck her, she bit her lip, feeling exposed and glanced sideways at Memphis, who looked like a carving out of marble—flawless and jagged, capturing such a ruggedness she couldn’t tear away from it.
She noticed the corners of his lips turning up. “What?” he asked.
“I know this isn’t the solution to overthrowing a Mad King, but the rebels need something to celebrate, and that’s each other. I have an idea.”
Emory had his full attention now. “I think we should hold a party, a dance to be specific.”
Confusion clouded Memphis’s face. “Dance?”
She beamed up at him. “Seeing as we have a bit of time trapped in here with each other, I will fill you in.”
***
Her body was stiff from sitting for a day in a stone cage, but she smiled as she pressed the elevator’s button. Everyone was exhausted and was headed back to their bunkers to get some sleep. Stepping in, she could still hear Memphis’s excitement about her idea of holding a dance to celebrate what the rebels have accomplished. And didn’t fail to notice Memphis’s eyes had never left her face.
She exhaled lightly and pressed the elevator’s door, trying to ignore the pulling sensation in her gut at the thought of him. Emory knew she needed to focus.
Each day, her memories became clearer but only about the three boys she had used to call her best friends. The once nightmares of Brokk faded with each passing day now that she knew that was only Memphis’s doing. She remembered them as teenagers—Brokk her confidant, her best friend that would do anything for her. And Memphis—she knew their relationship had always been complicated. But above everyone else, she had been remembering Adair Stratton. The gangly boy with dark hair and shadows in his heart who made her stomach churn.
For right now, Memphis Carter thought of her as his foolish pawn, and Emory continued to let him. For the time being, she wanted him to. Rubbing her eyes, she needed to find Brokk, to talk to him. She wanted clear the air between them, to apologize for being so cold with him, and in her heart, she knew he was the one who would tell her the truth about her past—the parts she couldn’t remember. She needed to focus on her personal plans. As much as she liked Black Dawn, she wouldn’t allow herself to be manipulated. She knew in her heart; this was only just the beginning.
***
The following day, Memphis scheduled training for her first thing after breakfast. The hours had slipped by in Emory’s frustration when she couldn’t find any trace of Brokk. Chewing the inside of her cheek, she looked at Memphis.
"You have to imagine you can see the ability flowing through you. It’s a life force, and more importantly, it’s your life force,” Memphis drawled.
Circling around Emory, concentration pinched his eyebrows together. She huffed, frustration leaving her palms tingling.
