Codes (Book 2)

Chapter 2: Claire

As I lay in bed, twirling a strand of hair around my finger, I continued to think about what Amanda had told me. 

Of course, ever since I got back my memories, I had known I would need to be an important part of the rebellion for it to succeed, but I didn't think Amanda would want me to actually kill Queen Saralee. Raised in the safe world of the Program, the idea of killing was repulsive to me. However, my Arystenn blood had a different opinion. 

Every time I thought of stabbing the Ice Queen with an Aural icicle or ambushing her while she was alone and distracted, I felt a thrill rush through my body that sickened me. No matter how evil she was, she was my mother, and the fact that killing her was so appealing to me was wrong. Right? 

But the rules are different in Glaisse, I told myself. It's kill or be killed in the Lessaenite court. Family means nothing. 

Even as a young child, I had seen so many people resort to murdering their superiors for the sole purpose of moving up in the ranks, and I had seen my mother do nothing about it. 

Scenes of Queen Saralee's terrible deeds flashed before my eyes and even as I watched, horrified, I continued to support the more compassionate, human way of thinking. It's never worth taking a life, no matter who that person is and what they've done to you. Well, that was until one memory manifested itself before my eyes and the rest of the world seemed to freeze.

"Apologize, now!" Queen Saralee yelled, grabbing my thirteen year old sister painfully by the shoulder  and turning her around to face the angry assembly of Icehearts. 

"I don't lie, Mother," Tara stated firmly, crossing her arms. "So I don't say sorry unless I am. And I'm not." 

"You just insulted me and the entire Council of Icehearts on Auraview in front of all of Lessaenes!" the Queen roared, her eyes flashing blue for a second. 

"You idiots deserved it," Tara smirked. 

At this, Saralee motioned to one of the Ice Guards who stood behind my sister and he kneed her in the back, making her fall hard on her face. As she shakily stood up, I gasped at the sight of blood trickling from her nose. 

"Leave her alone!" I yelled as menacingly as I could in my little six-year old voice. 

"Were you given permission to speak, Viviana?" The Queen asked coldly. 

"No, Mother," I whimpered, my courage instantly leaving me at the sight of her ferocious purple eyes. 

"This can get a lot worse, Tara. Just apologize to the Council on Auraview, and I'll let you go back to your room."

"Fine," my sister shrugged. 

"Good," the Queen nodded, motioning to the Auraview crew in the back of the room, who began filming. 

"Sorry for the stuff I said earlier," Tara muttered. 

"Say it like you mean it!" My mother ordered. 

"I can't." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I don't mean it." 

"You are a disgrace to the Arystenn bloodline," Queen Saralee seethed, her face turning so red with fury that she looked like she was about to explode. 

"Are you sure that isn't you?" My sister grinned. 

"That's it!" The Queen yelled, crossing her middle and pointer finger and sliding her thumb behind her hand before pointing her arm at Tara and shooting a bolt of Aura. 

I was absolutely mortified by the gesture. A curse, the most painful Aural maneuver of them all. Unlike the others, which instantly stunned, blinded, or killed, the curses were designed to prolong your victim's misery. The particular one Saralee used on Tara was the Curse of Cold. Fitting for an Ice Queen. 

I winced, barely suppressing a shriek, when the bolt hit Tara and she flew into the wall, hitting it before crashing to the floor. Her skin began to turn bluish- not powerful Aura blue, but a sickly, pale blue- and tiny ice crystals formed in her jet black hair. 

"Take her somewhere where she will never see the light of day again," the Queen told the two nearest Ice Guards, who rushed to fulfill their orders. 

"Tara!" I screamed, a jet of Aura shooting out of my hands and barely missing the wall. That was my last straw, I no longer thought of my mother as a person, only as something that needed to be destroyed. Anyone who would do that to my sister deserved to die! 

Tomorrow, at the Glitchketball tournament, I would show Amanda that I was ready. Ready for the Flame, ready for war, ready to take back the Empire.