Chapter 7
CHAPTER SEVEN
SOFIA
S ofia was packed before they had to leave for the midday gathering. It didn’t take long. She only owned three outfits and lived out of her small pack most days anyway. Anything of true value was back at the cenote, tucked away for safe keeping. When she walked out of the inn, following the wave of others moving toward the main square, she didn’t look back, refusing to feel the loss of the place. No matter how many nights she’d slept in the inn, it wasn’t her home. The cenote was. The resistance was.
Flor walked beside her, at one point reaching over to stop Sofia from picking at her fingers.
“Breathe,” Flor said, voice low.
“I know,” Sofia said, probably more aggressively than necessary. The meeting could be anything. Last cycle, they’d called a meeting so that the king could announce a new initiative in providing gas lamps to line the outer wall. Something Sofia was sure that the entire city did not need to know about.
As they turned the corner to the main square, it became clear this wasn’t a meeting about gas lamps. The square was pressed against the inner wall that divided the outer city from the inner city where the wealthiest Dereyans lived. A tall platform stood at the far end, overlooking the outer city, judging each and every Dragonborn as they went about their lives. The blood from the executed permanently stained the wood and stones, always the reminder of what stepping a toe out of line might mean.
Today, four figures stood on the platform, their hands tied behind their backs, lined up in front of the execution block. Chief Commander Harlow oversaw the crowd from the front of the platform while the king and prince sat on the wall behind him, their golden thrones gleaming in the sunlight of midday, shined to perfection for the occasion.
They were too far from the platform to make out faces, but Sofia still tried, needing to know who stood for execution—needing to know if Dia or Sari were among them. Flor seemed to be thinking the same thing because as the crowd around them began to come to a stop, content to stand back and watch the proceedings, she pushed forward, shouldering her way between others. She grabbed on to Sofia’s hand and pulled her through the crowd. A few grunted in annoyance, but no one stopped them as they snaked closer.
And then they were in the center of the square, close enough to see Sari’s gaunt face and wide eyes as she looked out over the crowd from her place between two other Dragonborn.
“No,” Flor whispered, just loud enough for Sofia to hear.
Sofia’s head spun as the chief commander stepped forward, his voice rising above the cacophony of the crowd. His voice thundered through the large bronze funnel that adorned the stage.
“The resistance claims to fight for freedom and peace. Yet at every turn they prove themselves to be nothing more than bloodthirsty savages out for revenge. They plant bombs around the city and kill the innocent without regret. They ignore the calls from their own pleading for them to stop. And now, they kidnap and threaten one of the king’s men. A man who has devoted his life to protecting this city and all who reside here.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd and Sofia clenched her fists, digging her nails deep into her palms. She focused on the pain and kept her face blank.
“The resistance, once more, proves themselves untrustworthy and weak. They do not want peace. They do not fight for the Dragonborn. If they did, they would not continue to force our hand. We enforce our laws out of necessity, not hatred. But we must continue to enforce them, as long as chaos thrives in the outskirts.
“I know that even as I speak to the loyal of Suvi, there are rebels among you, hiding in the shadows, too afraid to show your faces and admit your crimes. I speak to you now, the snakes and the rats that feed off the system even as you try to destroy it. You cannot win. We will not bow to your demands.”
Flor’s hand found Sofia’s where it was still tucked in her pockets, prying it open before clenching it in her own.
The chief commander moved, waving to the hooded soldier that stood at attention next to him, an axe hanging in one hand. The soldiers pushed the first prisoner forward, forcing him to his knees. He was a scrawny man, his face speaking of cycles of near starvation and pain. But even as he kneeled, he kept his head high, looking out at the crowd with accusing eyes.
“Antonio Medina, you have been found guilty of treason, having known associations with the resistance and refusing to give up the names of your associates. As such, you have been sentenced to death.”
Flor’s hand clenched around Sofia’s in a painful spasm as the axe fell and the man’s head dropped from the platform and into the crowd below. There was a rush as those closest moved to destroy the head, stomping it into the ground as if he deserved punishment even in death. Sofia had made the mistake of going up to the platform after one of the executions, forcing herself to look at the scattered remains of blood, brain, and bone left behind by the people when they were done with their cruel ritual.
A sharp gasp from Flor brought her attention back to the platform and her knees went weak. Sari was kneeling now, her head tucked in the small divot, and the chief commander opened his mouth to speak. But Sofia didn’t hear him. She couldn’t hear anything over the roaring in her ears. And for a moment, it wasn’t straight brown hair hanging over the block, but a set of familiar tight black curls.
The sound of the axe coming down and the roar of the crowd broke her from her trance and she felt herself jerk back into her body. Sari’s brown hair was gone from the platform and the crowd at the front undulated in their dance of glee. Acid burned up her throat, but she swallowed it back down, Flor’s hand her only anchor.
Sofia stood, watching but not truly seeing, as the last two Dragonborn were beheaded and the king stood to congratulate the chief commander on his defense of Suvi. The moment the king’s hand raised in its dismissal wave, Sofia moved, no longer able to hold herself still.
She kept their hands linked as she pushed through the crowd, but she could feel Flor pulling at her, trying to slow her down. But she didn’t care. Couldn’t care.
Not when she could still hear the slice of the axe through bone and wood. The crowd roared, a cheer of glee as the blood of the Dragonborn rained down on them from above.
Her mind was screaming and her throat burned as if the sound were stuck there, unable to come out. She was choking on her own rage.
Blood. Screams. Pain. Death.
The king wasn’t going to give up his power. He thought himself a god. He would kill every Dragonborn before he sacrificed a single thing to the resistance. Why not, when he saw them all as vermin to be exterminated?
Blood. Screams. Pain. Death.
And Chief Commander Harlow wasn’t going to give up anything, even to save Fox Ocon. That much was clear. He’d killed one Dragonborn for every day that Ocon had been captured. He’d continued to kill them until something changed.
Blood. Screams. Pain. Death.
Only a god could challenge another god’s power.
She heard the muffled voice of someone in her ear and she turned, eyes focusing on the person standing in front of her. Flor.
“Where are you going?”
Sofia tried to shake her head, tried to understand the words to form a response, but her mind spun and her breaths were coming too fast. Instead of answering with words, she tugged once more and started to move again.
She couldn’t think, but she could still walk, and she knew the steps to the mangroves like the back of her hand. It was stupid to leave when the sun was still up and the tide was moving in. Another Sofia with a functioning mind would have known that. She knew it even now, but she didn’t care.
The soldiers were feasting and drinking in celebration. The city was satiated in its bloodthirst and laying quiet now in the afternoon heat.
“What are you going to do?”
They were already in the mangroves, hands no longer linked, but Flor followed obediently behind her. Sofia looked back at Flor with her pale face and wide eyes. It clearly hadn’t been the first time Flor had spoken the words and she seemed surprised to finally be acknowledged.
“I’m going to get that Dereyan bastard to give me a way into the prison and the chief commander’s house. And then I’m going to kill him.”