Shadows of Stars |Wielder Chronicles Book I|

(13) Holders of Power

"We'll be waiting," Taliyah said, trying to smile.

"Shut your trap," Jag sneered. He grabbed Adira's arm, giving her a yank as a signal for her to get a move on.

Obsidian looked at Jag like he could kill him, his jaw clenched as his breathing deepened. Taliyah rested her hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him.

Adira stepped over the bench seat and into the aisle. A hand grabbed hers. She glanced back at Ryder who pulled her down to his level.

"Remember," he whispered in her ear. "Don't let them bring you down. Don't let them break you."

"Alright, love birds." Jag yanked on Adira again, pulling her hand from Ryder's.

She couldn't look away from him as she was dragged through the row of tables and towards the door. Ryder stared right back at her, his blue eyes unblinking. His irises shone so impossibly blue—the same shade that she gazed up at on hot summer days. In that moment she believed that he had his own sky inside of him, and she calmed, remembering the brilliance of the sunrise just a morning before.

Then Adira was through the doors and kraenite was cuffed on her wrists. Jag was joined by an unfamiliar guard and they escorted her down winding hallways. The farther they walked, the cleaner and shinier the floors became. Authorities skirted the walls turned, their heads turning as they watched them pass.

The calm faded as the dread grew. It owned her, pushing at her like an invisible gale, attempting to push her back to her cell. She never thought she would want to go back to the thin bed, but now she wished for nothing more. Her stomach locked up tight, her feet set in concrete.

Finally, they stopped in front of two wide, white doors. A clock on the wall ticked like a timer on a bomb. She couldn't stop it—slow it down. Each tick struck into her. She could no more avoid her fate than the beating of her own heart as it pounded mercilessly against its cage of bone.

Sweat formed on Adira's brow as the doors swung open. Her hands filled with tremors. Jag and the other guard pulled her forward like they were dragging a cow to the slaughterhouse.

The room was a replica of the dome where the fights took place. Instead of black kraenite, the floor and oval-arched ceiling were glistening white marble. A long ivory desk stretched around the room, set high above the rest of the seating.

Heads turned and brows rose as they entered the room. Curious eyes raked over her tangled hair and her baggy clothes. Adira looked back at as many faces as she could, narrowing her eyes. She struggled to keep her chin held high at the pace they went. Ryder's voice rang in her head. She would not let them break her.

They took her to the middle of the circular room as eyes watched her from all directions. She stumbled as they shoved her onto a small stage. She latched onto the railing for balance, the cuffs digging even tighter into her wrists.

Her eyes scanned from left to right as she scrutinized the important people above her. She knew that these were the five members of the Council—the same people that brought up the Wall, who ordered the murdering of Wielders, who imprisoned her new friends and her. Setting her jaw, she took a deep breath, looking into each of the eyes of her judges.

It was common knowledge that each Council member was assigned a new name upon admission, that being one the five things they believed Acadia should represent.

Prosperity.

Caliber.

Justice.

Idyll.

Poise.

The skyscraper city used to be all of those things, until the city evolved, until they let fear control them.