Page 54 of The First Spark (Dynasty of Fire #1)

If Aunt Calida and Lexie were alive, none of this would be a problem.

A princessa faced far less scrutiny than a future duchissa.

She could’ve sought a future with anyone she wanted and settled down in one of the manors from her dowry.

Others would’ve disapproved, but her choices wouldn’t have made much of a difference.

Carik had taken that future away from her. He’d taken Zane away from her.

She wouldn’t let him take Dali too.

Kalie stared at the ticking chrono, a flowery gold ornament sitting in the shadow of a colossal crystal mirror. Five days.

There was no time to waste.

A cacophony of voices rose from the colossal rosewood conference table, where a dozen envoys bickered under the flickering light of the monumental chandelier.

A servant bustled past, precariously balancing massive trays of colorful fruit.

Pursing her lips, Kalie flattened herself against one of the burgundy curtains.

They had a battle to plan. There was no time for breakfast.

Selene was a spectral phantom beside her, silently observing the conference. Dark bags hung under her glassy eyes, so deep that her caked-on makeup couldn’t cover them. The winged tip of her eyeliner, always immaculate, was smudged and crooked.

“You’re quiet today.”

The glaze over Selene’s eyes vanished, but her face remained drawn, and her tone was lifeless. “You should do what you think is best.”

Kalie’s brows pinched together. “Selene…”

She didn’t seem to hear her. Kalie drew her lip between her teeth. The words are you alright were on the tip of her tongue, but obviously Selene wasn’t alright. Against her protests, the Etovians were going to war. Her people would die.

“I’m sorry,” Kalie murmured.

As Selene stared at the opulent chrono on her wrist, she took a step closer, trying to meet her eyes.

Flicking her lank hair over her shoulder, Selene raised her head. “I’m not feeling well today. Please, excuse me.”

Kalie opened her mouth to call after her, but a gavel struck the table. Holoprojections appeared over the empty chairs. Nadar, Poltrun, Gar and Akron, Arrosa, Julian’s parents, Haeden’s family, the other Dalians.

Selene slipped through one of the gilded doors where Zane stood guard.

Kalie almost followed her. Almost.

Astonished whispers swept around the holos, and the sound of her name drew Kalie’s attention back to the envoys.

“She’s really there?”

With a final glance at the closed doors, Kalie took a seat next to Father. Unease prickled at the back of her neck. There was no time to dwell on Selene—all eyes had turned to her.

They’d decided on a show of Hannoverian unity. No more hiding in an obscure room, routing her signal halfway across the Federation. No more deception. Today, her family would appear as one.

“Good morning.” The microphone in front of Kalie amplified her voice to a booming level. “Thank you all for being here. My apologies for the cryptic message; I couldn’t trust the comms. We have a situation.”

Her voice was far calmer than it ever should’ve been under the circumstances, but her heart raced, and beads of sweat pricked her forehead.

“A Federation fleet will take Dali in four days.”

“A fleet is coming here?” cried Julian’s father. “Our militias can’t possibly hold them!”

“I know. We need to move up the attack, strike before it gets there. It’ll take our forces a day to move into position, so I propose we launch the day after tomorrow.”

“Two days ?” Poltrun spluttered, gawking at her. “You promised us until the end of the month! My fleets are still mobilizing, it takes time!”

“We don’t have time!” Kalie’s chest heaved as she breathed rapidly, trying to quell the flush rising to her face and the knots twisting in her stomach. “We only have four days to stop Carik. I’ll contact my friends in the Skyforce and ask them to stand with us, but we need to move now?—”

A stunning flash of light burst through the room, and then she was flying, knocked back as if someone had slammed into her.

The coppery tang of blood filled her mouth, welling in her throat.

Grit stung her skin. Her lungs burned, and pain pulsed through her.

Sharp, bone-deep pain—she’d crashed into something. She whimpered.

Silence. Perfect silence.

An earth-shattering thunderclap blasted through the air. Someone roared her name. Screams rang out, along with a tinkle that might’ve been shattering glass. High-pitched ringing drowned it out.

Blinking rapidly, Kalie tried to rise. A heavy weight pinned her down. She raised her head. The lightless room warped around her in a dizzying blur of shadows and motion. Vibrations rattled the cool marble floor.

A lump lay motionless a few feet away, half-shielded by rubble from a crumbling pillar. Ash stung Kalie’s eyes. She blinked it away. The lump came into focus—a man with pale blue hair, impaled by a shard of glass .

Gasping, Kalie looked up. A burning scrap of a crimson cloth floated past the window.

But the windows weren’t there. The wall wasn’t there.

Beyond it, a great orange plume rose into the sky.

A bomb.

A bomb ?

Kalie choked on a sob. A flash of burgundy barreled towards her, and the blurred figure slid into a crouch, materializing into Mother. The weight on her back vanished. Mother’s lips moved, far too fast to keep up, but the sound didn’t reach Kalie’s ears.

Hands hauled her upright. Zane’s hands. He stood over her.

A hot palm cupped her cheek, jolting her gaze to Mother.

Her lips moved, and Kalie read the shapes. Go, get to the hangar.

“I’m not running,” she said. The ringing drowned her out.

Mother’s wild eyes flitted over her shoulder. A trail of blood streaked down her forehead. Her lips moved again: Get her out of here.

Shadows loomed in the sky above her, monstrous shapes that blotted out the sunlight. Kalie blinked. The ceiling was gone. And those shapes…

Her blood ran cold. Onyx vessels, each the size of a city. Destroyers.

They’d come for Etov.

That… that was impossible, they were supposed to be going for Dali…

Someone hauled her away from Mother. She thrashed in their grip and planted her feet, but the strong hands kept tugging her along. Kalie twisted around. Panic and strain creased Zane’s pale face as he hauled her away. His mouth was moving, but she turned to Mother.

Get to the assembly point , Mother said. Scarlet splotches bloomed across her dress. Rally the fleets and fight for Dali. We’ll hold them here.

Kalie shook her head. They were her family. She couldn’t leave them.

Black specks shot through the orange sky, trailed by puffy streams of smoke. Red bolts rained down like flashes of lightning. The figures grew closer—legionnaires with jetpacks.

Zane tugged on her shoulder .

Sweat beaded on Mother’s brow, but her features shone with determination.

Go , she mouthed. May Azura bless you .

Zane pulled her away, and Kalie stumbled after him.

Vibrations shot through the floor as legionnaires slammed into the marble tile. Red bolts raced across the room. Father’s Praetors unleashed a deadly barrage of blasts, and bodies fell, too fast to keep up with. Acrid smoke burned Kalie’s nose. Crimson splattered against the crumbling walls.

She ran.

Zane flung open the doors, and she barreled through, pumping her legs as fast as they would carry her.

Leaping over fallen rubble, she ducked into a hallway.

Blurs of tar-black armor charged towards them, unleashing a rainstorm of red lasers.

She lunged out of the way and sprinted down a smoke-filled corridor.

She wasn’t running away from them, she was running towards them. It became her mantra as she charged down the endlessly long hallways, tailed by volleys of red beams.

She would fly straight for the pocket of dead space where their fleets were assembling and meet Carik head-on. She would fight, as Mother asked.

Kalie’s heartbeat thrashed in her ears as she threw open the doors to the hangar bay.

Technicians scattered in her wake. Praetors lunged to their feet, whipping out pulsers. Blasts shot past her, but she didn’t stop running. She couldn’t stop running.

Her legs ached as she spun around a supply cart and sprinted up the ramp of a silver shuttle. Her lungs burned, and she gasped for air. Bursting into the cockpit, she slid into the empty pilot’s chair and flicked the levers to start the engines. Thrusters rumbled under the metal floor.

As she punched a button to open the bay doors, thick iron hatches slid apart, revealing the burning sky beyond.

She glanced over her shoulder. Any second, Zane would be storming into the ship’s cargo bay.

But he wasn’t there .

A blast slammed into the hull of her shuttle, throwing her into the dashboard. The excruciating impact jolted through her ribs. Salty sweat dribbled onto her tongue, mingling with metallic blood.

Zane still wasn’t there.

She leapt to her feet and barreled through the ship’s cargo hold, staggering to a halt at the top of the ramp. Red lasers lit up the smoke-filled hangar. Shrapnel fell from the ceiling, and raging fires tore through rows of supply racks. Bodies littered the floor.

No Zane.

Kalie’s heart leapt into her throat as she scanned the carnage. No, no , he had to be alive. He was here, somewhere. He had to be.

Holy Mother Azura, please.

There—in the midst of the chaos, Zane hobbled towards the ship, but as crimson stains crept across his clothes, he collapsed.

Kalie thrashed through the hangar. A red laser snarled towards her, and she spun out of the way. Vibrations rumbled under her feet. The ringing in her ears dulled a shrill explosion as she leapt over a body, then dove behind a tool chest.

Terror twisted Zane’s face as she slid to her knees beside him. His voice broke through the veil of ringing. “Go! Run!”

A pair of legionnaires charged towards her with their pulsers raised.

Kalie rammed her foot into a wobbling supply cart. It hurled towards them.