PART 1: SUMMER
June
Chapter 1
Red as far as I can see.
Blood in the river. Pooling on the ground.
Fire at my back. Fire in the sky. Smoke choking my lungs.
The color red is considered good luck among my people, yet our country’s fortunes have taken a drastic turn for the worse. The entire country is awash in crimson and ash. What was verdant green and crystalline blue laid to waste. War has already claimed two of my friends.
Three, if Lorcan doesn’t survive his injuries.
Four, if we don’t find Zosia.
How many more, before this ordeal is over?
We’ve barely begun to fight. I’m already so tired.
A staticky screech from my pocket yanks me out of my morose thoughts. Good. Keep moving. Don’t think.
“Come in, Princess Raina, come in.” I fumbled the walkie-talkie out of my pocket.
“Ten-two.” Receiving well.
“Convoy of eight bikes coming up the path toward you. Get out of there before they see you.”
“Ten-four.” Message received. I clip the device into my waistband. “We have to get off the trail.”
My sole surviving guard is not in good condition, which is why we’ve taken the open road instead of a more circumspect route. The only outward sign of her injuries is the bandage on her upper arm. Beneath her sweat-stained, dirt-encrusted shirt are tight wraps holding her cracked ribs. I tied them myself. I carry our only supplies in a small pack. We abandoned everything else we carried after the attack that took out the rest of my guards and left Orisa in a bad state.
We’re still at least a day away from our destination.
Hands on her knees, bent double, breathing and spitting thin trails of gray saliva, Orisa glanced up wearily. “Go without me, Princess.”
“No. Come on. We can make it to Oceanside.”
I take her by the elbow. Orisa wipes her forearm across her mouth and stands up. Her pale face is covered in a layer of soot. Sweat has drawn streaks down her cheeks. It’s almost comical, clownlike, but neither of us is laughing. She shakes her head, short dark hair flying outward.
“I’ll hold them off. Buy time for you to get to safety.”
“We can make it. Together,” I plead. Futile.
Orisa closes her eyes. Tears run down her cheeks, marking them further. But when she opens them again, her brown eyes are full of determination.
“No. Orisa, no.”
There’s nowhere for us to hide. Every village has been either set on fire or overtaken by the invaders. Orisa and I have witnessed hundreds of burned-out wagons with dead horses in the traces and bodies left to rot. Women. Children. The Skía and their pirates are merciless in their destruction.
The sound of buzzing engines grows louder. We stand there for another minute, two determined women squaring off. I’m about to order her to come with me when a burst of gunfire causes me to flinch.
I’ll never get used to that sound.
“Princess. Go.”
She gives me a tiny shove. Breathing ash and soot, I ran, trying to escape the tide of death hard on my heels. My guard doesn’t follow.
