Heavenbreaker by Sara Wolf EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Sara Wolf
- Language: English
- Genre: Fantasy
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 4.6 MB
- Price: Free
Acies
aciēs ~ēī, f.
1. a sharp edge
2. a battle line
When I met my father for the first time, we talked about roses, the
theoretical feel of rain, and the lilac perfume that used to waft from
Mother as she brushed my hair. Oh, and the dagger in my father’s
back. We talked about that, too.
But only briefly.
Now he’s dead. And I probably will be soon, too.
I inhale and turn the gold-plated handles of his sink. Under the gentle
water, I scrub my hands and watch his blood circle the drain. Bit by bit, I
scrape him out from under my nails.
The lights of his office bathroom are soft, steady. Nothing like the
constantly flickering fluorescents of my apartment in Low Ward. In the
bright light, I can see every unraveling seam in my patched tunic beneath
my janitor coat disguise, every old tear Mother fixed with plastic fibers as
thread.
I shiver at the face staring back at me in the mirror. It looks like Father’s.
Same black hair, although his was salt-and-pepper. Same cheeks set at a
sharp angle.
And we both have the same thin blue eyes that look dead inside.
No. Not “have.” Had.
A knock at the office door jumps me out of my skin, then a silken voice
on the other side calls out, “Duke Hauteclare?”
My heart catches in its own beat. Father’s attendant.
For a moment, my insides twist in anticipation, my breathing shallow. Is
it now?
Do I die now, when he comes in and sees the blood pooling on the rug
and draws a hard-light pistol? Do I die when he calls the guards and they
airlock me into space to join Father’s corpse? Or do I get to wait in a cell
before receiving their so-called justice—an excruciating death burning
beneath a plasma vent?
I, Synali Emilia Woster, have killed my father, a duke of the glimmering
court of Nova-King Ressinimus the Third. After so many months of
planning, waiting, watching…I’ve done it. All that’s left now is to escape
back into the alleys of Low Ward.
The attendant’s voice is guileless. “Your steed awaits in hangar six, Your
Grace. They’ve issued the twenty-minute warning, so please send your
chosen rider out shortly.”
Footsteps in the marble hall outside signal the attendant leaving—small
miracles—and yet still my guts writhe. He’s not the only one out there
waiting for me. The guards, the cameras… I planned my entrance route into
the tourney hall down to the minute, but with revenge burning in my blood,
my exit route was only ever a vague idea.
Only now do I realize it with cold finality—there is no exit.
I glance at the sleek white riding helmet on the marble counter, a gold
lion with wings gracing the visor. The flying lion is the emblem of the noble
House Hauteclare—my House, a House I didn’t know I was a part of until
six months ago.
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