Book 5: Weakness

Amval

I crouch on the floor of my cell, watching through the bars and ignoring the persistent ache of my wounded leg. Heels click along the stone floor—yes, there is the third round, again. There are three soldiers down here with me now, I’m sure of it.

And none of them are Yasa or Pak. Those two, Kaloni made sure to take with her.

Just thinking her name twists a knife in my gut. She truly did this. Arranged it all. She looked at Mother and Father and thought they were weak. That she had a better path, one she could only pave with their blood.

Theirs–and mine.

The soldier making the first round returns again, sharp and precise. If I snapped a breeze out fast enough, I could trip him and snatch the jingling keys off his belt. But there is a stalagmite jutting out of the ground right w