Fugitive: A Frost Story by Kate Avery Ellison

Author:Kate Avery Ellison [Ellison, Kate Avery]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2013-10-26T16:00:00+00:00

THEN

THE MESSAGE FOR the revolutionist contact was gone from my pocket. Horror settled over me like a blanket of freezing ice. Had I dropped it among the guests?

No.

In an instant, I knew what had happened.

I whirled and looked for Korr. There he was, by the stairs, his hand on Lakin’s arm. His smirk twisted into a lying smile as he gazed down at my sister. I might almost have believed he loved her, my sister, if I didn’t know how much of a traitor he really was.

The blood in my ears roared. My fingers twitched. A hot, heavy feeling twisted around my throat, and I stepped forward as if in a dream.

Korr looked up and saw me. His expression changed as I shoved aside a guest and headed for him.

“Gabe—”

He threw up one hand to stop me, and that was when the door in the foyer splintered with the sound of snapping wood. It sounded like bones breaking.

Guests screamed, gasped, and scrambled away as the sound of boots clattered in the hall.

Soldiers.

The room filled with silence that spread like a mighty rush of water, closing over our heads and drowning us. My mother and sister stood still, staring, as soldiers entered the room. Their gray uniforms looked like costumes beneath the glitter of the party decorations, but the cold malice in their eyes was real.

"Gabriel," my mother whispered.

One of the soldiers took my arm. “By order of His Excellency, the ruler of Aeralis, you are under arrest.”

This was Korr’s doing. My whole body was hot and cold; my face was numb to my lips. I opened my mouth to shout at him, but I could say nothing. The words died on my tongue.

“Search him,” someone ordered.

My sister made a horrified sound, a noise between a scream and a plea.

The soldier yanked my arm, and I came alive again. I whirled on him with a snarl, my hand raised. I was a prince. They could not—

The butt of the rifle came from the side, out of my field of vision. The sound of it striking my nose rang out in the silence. I fell to my hands and knees. The world spun. My vision faded in and out, and a buzzing filled my ears. I braced myself against the floor and tried to untangle my senses. Gradually, I felt my hands again, pressed against the stone floor.

Something was dripping.

Blood.

My nose was streaming blood.

The pain came after, in a nauseating wave that made my knees buckle and my hands clench. I shut my eyes and tried to think beyond the pain.

They hauled me to my feet. Blood ran down my lips and neck. My nose was broken, maybe. I forced my eyes open and met my sister’s—she was weeping without sound, the tears making trails of silver down her cheeks—and saw that my blood had splattered across her face and hands. Across the front of her new dress, red mingling with the gold. Lakin held her. They stood together, clinging to each other.

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