The Young Elites (The Young Elites 1)

It takes me a moment to realize that some in the crowd are cheering. They raise their fists to the sky at the fireworks and flames. They watch the dazzling display with smiles on their faces. I recall what Raffaele had told me earlier. Let the Inquisition Axis see what happens when they force us to humiliate ourselves. The people here are cheering on the Young Elites. Applauding the strike.

At the piers, a second ship explodes. Then, a third. An unstoppable chain reaction continues along the water’s edge, each ship’s demise causing the next, until flames and exploding fireworks consume the entire harbor, transforming the night into day, orange and yellow everywhere I look, the earth trembling from the sheer energy released into the sky. Explosions, the roar of flames, the shouts of thousands of people—it all swirls together into deafening chaos. Never could I have imagined panic like this. Their fear pools in me, a black and powerful current.

I have to find Raffaele. I turn a corner into a narrower alley in an attempt to get away from the frenzied crowds. For a moment, I’m alone. Almost there. My slippers hit a puddle, and cold water splashes against my ankles.

Something white flashes before my face.

Before I can react, a hand catches me around my neck and shoves me against the wall. I see spots exploding before me. Blindly, I strike out.

A voice chuckles at my antics. I freeze. I recognize that voice. The white blur that flashed past my eye now stills into the unmistakable look of an Inquisitor’s cloak. “Well, well, well,” the voice says. “A Tamouran girl.”

I stare into Teren’s face.

No. Not here. Not tonight.

The sight is enough to unleash my energy. I bare my teeth at him as a red-eyed demon lunges out from the wall behind me and throws itself at Teren with a shriek. Teren flinches for a split second, but his grip never lightens. His eyes widen in surprise.

“What’s this?” he says with a smile. “Have you grown defiant since the last time we talked?” He hoists a crossbow. “Any more moves like that, and I might decide to kill off your sister. I gave you your two weeks.” His smile turns hard. “And you are late.”

“I’m sorry,” I say urgently. My mind spins. “Don’t—please don’t hurt her. I couldn’t find a time to get away and see you. They’ve been training me relentlessly.” I glance at the main square. “If the Elites see me talking to you, they will kill me, and you won’t get your—”

Teren only ignores me and keeps me pinned in place. His grip is unnaturally strong, his face too close. “In that case, you had better start talking. You owe me some information.”

I swallow hard. The Daggers can’t be that far away. They knew I would be heading down this way, and if I don’t show my face soon, they will search for me. And they will see me here.

Teren’s grip tightens so much that it starts to hurt. My hands fly up to where he holds my neck. He narrows his colorless eyes. “Give me their names.”

“I—” What can I tell him, without destroying the Daggers? My mind scrambles frantically for a solution.

“I saw you arrive at the festival with a Fortunata Court consort,” Teren adds. “He has been with you before, too. Is he one of them?”

No. I shake my head automatically, letting the lie come. “He was just my escort.”

Teren’s stare wanders across my face. “Just your escort,” he muses.

Tears well up in my eye. No. Please don’t hurt Raffaele. “Yes, just my escort.”

Teren makes an annoyed sound in his throat. “Talk. Lady Gemma—does that name sound familiar to you? Any idea why she was a rider at the qualifying races?”

I shake my head dumbly.

“Who leads them?”

No, no, I can’t. “I don’t know. Truly, I don’t!”

Teren narrows his eyes again. He hoists his crossbow with one arm and points it right in front of my good eye. “You’re lying.”

“No, I’m not,” I whisper through his tight grip.

“Violetta will pay for this, you know. Not you. Violetta.” He leans close, his voice like honey. “Do you want to hear all the things I will do to her?”

He whispers them into my ear, one by one, and I start to cry in earnest. I don’t know what to do. My thoughts are too tangled. Violetta. I glance again to the chaotic square. Where is he keeping her? Energy lurches through me, feeding on my terror. It begs for release, but I clamp down hard on it.

“I beg you—” I start to say. My mind spins. “I’ll tell you what you want. Just give me one more week. Please. You can’t be seen here with me, it won’t help either of us.” I scan the alley. “There’s no time. They’re here too. They can’t—”

Before I can utter anything else, Teren’s eyes flicker up. I do the same—and see a flash of dark robes high up on the rooftops. A jolt of terror leaps up my spine. The Daggers, they’re coming. They’re going to see us. All around us, the other Inquisitors are consumed with containing the chaos. He doesn’t have enough men with him. I can feel him weighing his options, deciding whether or not he has time to force answers out of me right now before the Daggers catch up to me.

Please. Please let me go.

His instant of hesitation vanishes. He grabs me by my collar and pulls me close. “You have three days,” he says in a low voice. “If you go back on your word again, I will shoot an arrow through your sister’s neck and out the back of her skull. She’ll be lucky if that’s the first thing I do.” He smiles, his teeth flashing in the night. “We can be enemies, Adelina, or we can be the best of friends. Understood?”