The once old bricked school was now a world of metal, the only substance that would keep them protected against Adair’s assault of dark magic. The broken archway leading up to the chiseled stone steps were cracked and worn. The windows had been reconstructed and barred with iron. The once oak doors now stood ripped off the hinges, two rebels standing guard, the heavy iron door shimmering behind them.
The Academy was once a place where dreams were supposed to be nurtured, a school to master one’s ability. And now, the building was more of a cage, having been transformed over the years as more rebels joined. To the east, their lookout tower stretched up toward the pink wash clouds as the sun rose.
For six years, they had hidden, buried deep in the earth, while Adair Stratton ensnared Kiero in a future bathed with death; a reality filled with fear.
Their group bounded up the stairs, slowing to give curt nods to the guards, the shadows dancing in their eyes as they took in The Mad King’s sigil blazed across the man’s chest.
Reaching the door, Memphis pushed down hard on the handle, revealing a dark hallway. Ushering his team in, he took one last look at the scenery before him. Nyx strutted by him, the guards warily following her. It was to Memphis’s understanding that his girlfriend had beat most of the rebels in their fights, earning herself an unhealthy amount of goods in weapons and clothing. But most importantly to her, a reputation of fear.
Memphis soaked in the thick rolling forest, and to the east, the skeletons of the Ruined City peeked out. Concrete and ghosts were all that was left of the once thriving Sarthaven: The city beneath the stars. Behind that, the Draken Mountain Range looked ominous as ever, piercing the clouds.
Sighing, he slammed the door, closing them in the darkness.
It was disorienting and freezing as always, and Memphis blinked hard as his eyes adjusted. Excited hooting and catcalls exploded, and the founders of the Rebellion danced around him. Memphis was just about to tell them to remember themselves, but Nyx pranced in front of him, violet hair blazing, and pulled him in fiercely for a kiss.
Her lips were hungry and demanding, and his body bowed into hers. Warmth spread through him, pooling in his gut, and he grabbed her face in between his hands. Her breath was fast, and closing his eyes, Memphis lost himself to her wild, fearless energy. Her tongue parted his mouth, the lingering taste of spiced berries dancing along his senses. Every nerve sang as he pulled her closer.
The night had been long, the stakes high. They all deserved to savor the victory.
An awkward, “eh-hmmm,” sounded behind them. Breaking apart from Nyx, Memphis saw a petite girl with electric blue hair. A huge smile broke over his face, and he motioned Jaxson to bring their prisoner forward.
“Bryd, as always, thank you for keeping watch for our return to the Academy. Where should we put our esteemed guest?”
Taking a tentative step forward, Bryd inspected the soldier, her eyes widening as she saw Adair’s sash. The lanterns on the iron walls behind them glowed as she smirked, “Cell fifty-five is empty, Commander.”
Wyatt and Jaxson didn’t wait to drag the guard forward. They followed Bryd down the winding hallway.
The Academy was swarming with life, rebels barking at one another, murmuring, “Commander,” as they passed Memphis. Nyx squeezed his hand, her consciousness brushing against his, her voice filling the cavities of his mind. “You need to eat before you deal with that. Let’s go get breakfast.”
Squeezing her hand back, they made their way down the hallway.
The Academy consisted of a hive of passages and levels, the dining hall the heart of their headquarters. Reaching the rusted elevators, Nyx pressed the worn button, the doors sliding open. Stepping in the iron cage, they were sealed in and then dropped into the ground, the air howling around them as Nyx laughed, their hearts in their throats. It was a fast way to chase away his tiredness if even for a second.
The gears grounded to a halt, and the cage slid open. Nyx practically dragged him along. Fifty tables were full, and the roar of noise washed over them, the men and women talking excitedly. News spread unnaturally fast, which was a side effect of pooling humans with a varying amount of abilities together.
Sitting down at an empty table, Nyx pouted. “Someone is especially grumpy for such a productive night.”
Memphis focused in on her with furrowed brows. How did she not understand the burden that sat on his shoulders? Of what they would all have to face—and very soon. Of how close they were to confronting Adair. If they learned of his location, then it would only mean a march. After all these years.
Years of you being afraid, he thought.
Shrugging, Memphis pushed the doubts down. “Just the usual stuff.”
She arched an eyebrow in disbelief before leaving to get their food. Memphis wanted nothing more than to continue his way to their room and catch a few hours of blissful sleep. But above all else, duty called.
Nyx returned with small bowls of fruit and bread, which they both devoured in silence. Finishing, she gave him a curt nod, and they got up, both knowing what came next.
***
The cells were located on the same level as the dining hall, so it wasn’t far to go until the stood outside a door labeled, Fifty-Five.
Brokk was already there, along with Alby whose fiery red hair and spattering of freckles was much too alive for their dreary scene. Having been with the rebellion from the beginning, he rarely talked about his past, but Memphis knew there had been no word of the survival of his hometown, Pentharrow.
Excitement and dread ran through Memphis like a live current, and he murmured, “Let’s go.”
The cells were basic, and small strange runes encircled them on
