“Last chance,” the colonel said. Layela looked at him then without flinching, her eyes making it clear she had no intention of telling him anything. He seemed pleased with this and nodded to the Kilita, who took a step forward, quickly closing the gap between them.
He was leaning down when Layela jumped up and brought her left hand with the cuffs to strike him against the side of the head, the impact resonating down her flaming muscles. She leaned against the wall and kicked him hard in the knees. He fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding temple.
The colonel was moving already, but she brought up her right hand and slashed at him, the pin small but effective enough to gash his hand and then his face. His eyes burned with hatred as he struck out and hit her right arm. What she lacked in strength, she made up for in speed. She reeled back, turned and quickly brought the handcuffs up again and hit him hard in the scalp.
The Kilita had partly recovered and grabbed her legs, toppling her forward. She screamed and went down over him, the colonel grabbing both her arms before she struck the floor, tearing muscles as he pulled her up like a rag doll with a firm hold. The Kilita still held her legs, and she fought to get free, but could barely move.
She struck back with her head, satisfied when she felt it impact the colonel’s chin. He groaned and his head flipped back, but his grip only tightened on her bleeding wrists, pulling a yelp of pain from her throat.
“Now, Chief,” he said, and she felt the Kilita’s broad hand search up her leg as she struggled to break free. His hand was too thick to go into the cuff of her pants and reach the skin over her boot. For a second, she thought he might need to let go of her legs to make contact with her skin, and she would get another chance to fight. Instead, he pulled hard on the right leg of her pants and ripped them, exposing her leg below her knee.
She felt weak from fear and blood loss, and inhaled sharply as his rough palm clamped her skin. The familiar sting of his magic coursed up her entire body and settled into her mind. Her head snapped back and a scream caught in her throat as the ether jolted her.
The quick motion made her dizzy. Her ether was awakened and old visions flashed to life, assaulting her tired mind. Then the recent vision of darkness that had claimed her peace while she slept was brought to the forefront for just a second, sharp and crisp and new, unlike all the other visions. Layela only had the time to recognize the face of her sister, seconds before her body and mind gave out and blessed darkness claimed her.
i
Avienne walked slowly, keeping an eye on the deserted street around her, the light cotton of her dress casting dancing shadows at the top of her shadow’s unnaturally long legs. She fought the urge to pull down on the back of the diminutive garment. The slightest breeze lifted it to an even more indecent height.
The silence was beginning to bore her and she felt too unsteady in her heels to walk very far. She glanced back at the shadows, where she knew her brother hid and waited, and felt some comfort in the fact that he would be even more bored than she.
She still couldn’t believe he had talked her into this.
“This is wonderful,” she mumbled as she readjusted her top. “Ardin is going to get all the fun, and all I’m getting are laser burns from too much hair removal. Just great.” She yanked on the top to pull it down, ripping one of the thin straps, and the shirt lowered even further on that side.
She swore loudly, the sound partially covered by the familiar hum of an approaching land vehicle. She stood at the end of the sidewalk, waiting for the vehicle, forcing her disenchantment with the entire situation behind very fake eagerness. She couldn’t believe some girls actually were eager to make this kind of money.
As the vehicle approached, she idly wondered what her father, the great Captain Malavant, would think to see his daughter dressed this way. She felt some pleasure at the thought of what punishment Ardin would have received for encouraging his little sister to do it.
Her lips curled up and she threw her thick hair sideways. It glowed like fire in the dull sunlight. As two vehicles approached, she forced herself to remain calm, and suddenly felt more naked for her lack of weapons than her lack of clothing.
Relief washed over her when she saw they were military vehicles, the covered beasts humming over their hover engines as they gracefully glided down the streets. The first one slowed but kept going, and she smiled and waved, although the dark bullet-proof windows betrayed nothing of its occupants. The vehicle was nearly past her when the driver hit the propulsion, and wind sent her skirt flying up. Her face became as red as her hair, and she bit back the urge to scream an insult that would make even the most ardent soldier blush.
She feared the second vehicle wouldn’t stop either, which would lead to endless teasing from her brother, but its engines quieted and one of its side doors opened.
A man wearing the grey outfit of a detention centre guard smirked at her, the laughter of his comrades piercing the silence of the street.
“You need a lift, sweetheart?” the man asked in an accent she didn’t recognize. She guessed he was trying and failing to be charming. Nonetheless, she managed to smile.
“No, but thank you!” She was surprised by how young and happy her voice could sound. She would need a strong drink after this. “I was, um, I was hoping perhaps I could inconvenience
