Page 6 of The First Spark (Dynasty of Fire #1)

Vaguely, she recognized the man as one of Marcus’s allies. With his fist raised in the air, the senator’s face was a snapshot of rage. Even in the still image, the crowd around his stage looked volatile, and in bold letters, the article shouted:

Let it be known that the Senator of Khadar and its people do not stand for the unlawful extension of a despot’s reign, and we unilaterally condemn the murders of Senator Marcus Pool and the Dalian royal family.

To Carik, we say as one nation, we do not recognize your authority or sovereignty, and we will resist ?—

Resist.

The word lit a fire in Kalie.

She shifted her eyes to the frame of the lonely coffins. The hollow in her stomach and the tightness in her chest shifted, turning to something white-hot and furious. The word pounded in her mind, in tune to the thumping of her heart, and she made herself a vow.

She would resist, because they could not.

She would not let it end here, not until Carik was brought to justice.

Reaching deep down, Kalie mustered up all her courage. It was small, and it was fragile.

Without tearing her gaze from the senator’s raised fist, she pushed herself to her feet. Sunlight sparkled on the gleaming ticket consoles. She set the paper on the stack, brushed her finger across the pair of ornate coffins, and squared her shoulders.

No matter what she had to do, no matter what price she had to pay, she would make Zed Carik rot in the darkest depths of Zagan’s hell. For Aunt Calida and Marcus. For Lexie. And most of all, for Ariah.

The crowded boarding line surged forward. Kalie stumbled, catching one of the metal stanchions separating her from the next line over. Another announcement crackled through the intercom: “Second boarding call for all passengers…”

Deafening thrusters roared as a transport landed at the next gate over.

As nervous flutters danced in her stomach, Kalie tapped her new sneakers against the tile and craned her neck. Two people stood between her and the boarding tunnel. Still no sign of legionnaires. Thank the gods.

She’d settled on a flight to Aquis. The luxury cruiser traveling there was a charter company, not directly operated by the ISC. It had cost most of her credits, but she would make another withdrawal on the flight.

Kalie flipped open her purse. As her fingers brushed against Ariah’s mud-stained uniform, a knot swelled in her throat.

She closed her eyes, breathed in the spaceport’s perfumed air, and reached for the burner comm stashed under Ariah’s jacket.

She’d sent Uncle Jerran a coded message with instructions to ask the senator of Aquis, Vish Nadar, to send her to Dali.

Nadar had always been close with him and Marcus.

Uncle Jerran still hadn’t replied.

Fighting down the sting of dread, Kalie slipped the comm into her sleeve. As she passed a trash can, she skimmed her palm across the surface, letting the device tumble into the bin.

“Next!”

A finely dressed Lykorian man hauled his suitcase to the ticket counter. The guard held a chip scanner over his forearm.

Kalie’s knees wobbled as she stepped to the front of the line, shifting her gold bangle over the ID chip embedded in her wrist. With any luck, it would identify her as Ariah.

It had worked at the ATM, but the scanners here were much more sensitive.

The signal shifters in the bangle had to work.

They had to, or her ID would send up a flare for Carik’s men to find her and finish the job.

That couldn’t happen. Not until she made Carik pay.

“Next!” An old man with pale blue skin beckoned her forward.

Twisting her bangle, Kalie handed the guard her pass.

“Chip, please, Miss Rivers.”

She slid a hand over her left wrist.

The guard tapped his foot. “Chip, please, ma’am.”

She let her hand hover over her chip for a moment longer.

They couldn’t fully get around the issue of the chip.

If anyone dared to break the Federation’s law and remove the ID implanted at birth, the implant would release a toxin to kill its host in seconds.

But there were ways to get around such things, and Aunt Calida had given her the means to alter her ID.

So Kalie loosed a shuddering breath, slid her gold bangle closer to the chip, and held out her wrist.

The elderly guard’s scanner shone blue light on her chip. It beeped. He glanced at a holopad on the stand beside him.

“The scan didn’t come through. Let me see your wrist again, please.”

Sweat beaded on Kalie’s forehead. The man held the scanner over her wrist a second time. Neither the scanner nor the holopad chimed. His blue lips twisted into a frown.

“What’s the holdup?” a woman’s shrill voice called from behind her.

The chip still didn’t scan. Kalie’s chest tightened.

“Are you going to make us wait all day?” a man demanded. “I can get you fired if you don’t start moving faster, I paid for priority boarding?—”

Grunting, the Angeos man tapped his earpiece. “Boss, problems with a chip. Sending her over to you?—”

“No, scan it again. It worked at the ATM, it’ll work, it always works?— ”

The guard leveled her with a hard stare, muttered, “roger that,” and raised his voice. “Wait here. My boss is coming to sort this out.”

Kalie wiped her clammy palms on her beige trenchcoat. “Please, if you do the scan again…”

His stern stare didn’t waver. She swallowed her protest and adjusted her bangle, praying the signal blockers would kick in.

“Chip problem?”

Kalie’s breath seized. She raised her eyes up the young human guard’s cream-colored uniform, across his tan face and chiseled jaw, up to his short sun-bronzed hair.

He was the sort of man Ariah would’ve jumped on.

Muscular, tall—so tall, that as he stopped next to the old guard, she had to crane her neck to make out his hardened features.

“Scanner isn’t sensing anything.”

“Stupid thing.” The young man seized the scanner, knocking it against his palm. “I put in a request for new ones, but with the budget cuts?—”

His eyes darted to her, and his face froze.

So did Kalie.

Maybe it was her imagination, but she’d been taught to read people before she was taught how to read . His face settled into a blank mask—but not quickly enough, because she’d caught the look a moment before when his nostrils flared, the corners of his narrowed eyes crinkled, and his jaw tightened.

Kalie stumbled back.

“I’ll take care of it.” The young guard’s disinterested tone didn’t fool her. “Get the line moving. You.” The word curled with scorn. “Follow me.”

You. Even as her veins turned to ice, she seethed at the contemptuous way he addressed her.

Balling her hands into fists, she marched after him, past the lines of passengers waiting to enter the boarding tubes, towards a wall of frosted glass panels.

He swiped a card over a door’s codebox, and wonder of wonders, he had enough courtesy to hold the door open for her to enter.

The room was mostly barren, aside from a few cabinets, two cheap chairs, and a plastic table where a holopad and scanner waited .

Kalie shuddered as the door clicked shut.

They were alone.

“Wrist, please.”

Kalie swallowed thickly and held her left wrist out. He seized it, and as his thumb brushed over her pulse point, just above the chip, a shock shot up her arm. She jolted back. Judging by the way he recoiled, grimacing, he’d felt it too.

She didn’t dare look at him. Didn’t dare speak.

Scars stretched across the young man’s knuckles as he seized the scanner and held it over her wrist. Blue light shone for the third time.

She held her breath, praying it would beep and the holopad would flash green.

When she was under her own identity, the chip scanned instantly, but several moments passed and the scanner didn’t chime.

Her heart raced. Did the scanner measure her pulse?

If it did, he would know she was nervous, and if he saw that, he’d know .

But he’d know anyway if the bangle didn’t work, and Carik would find her, and then?—

It chimed. The holopad flashed green.

“Ariah Rivers?” he asked, his tone plainly disbelieving.

Oh, thank the gods. “Yes.”

He grunted and ran through the rest of the questions. Date of birth, place of birth. Her voice grew more confident with each lie she told. His face grew colder and colder.

“Orbital scan will match all that?”

Kalie nodded.

He turned a dial on the side of the scanner, narrowing its focus to a circle.

“Look into the light, please.”

The blinding light of a retinal scan blasted her eye. Dark spots danced in the blinding halo. Kalie clenched her fists to keep from succumbing to the urge to blink.

It beeped. He lowered the light.

“Everything checks out. Must’ve been a problem with the scanner.”

“Must’ve,” Kalie echoed. Her gaze lingered on his clenched jaw and the tightness around his unblinking gray eyes .

Gods dammit, he knew something.

His lip curled. “You can board.”

Kalie’s heart skipped a beat. She rushed out the door and made a beeline towards the nearest boarding tube, knocking over a limping Lykorian man in her haste.

He shouted a raspy curse after her, but she couldn’t stop.

Once she got onboard, she could hide in her cabin until they landed.

Everything would be fine. Ten steps. Five steps. She was so close.

A heavy hand landed on her shoulder.

Gasping, she whipped around and raised her fist.

The young guard stood behind her, with his hand braced on her shoulder. An infuriating smirk curved at his lips as he glanced at her fist. He held out her boarding pass.

“You forgot this.” His warm breath brushed against her ear as he leaned down, whispering, “Next time you raise a fist at someone, Princessa , at least do it right.”

Every muscle in her body locked up.

His loud footsteps clomped away. Still, Kalie stood there, until a woman in a fur coat brushed past her and she mustered up the courage to turn.

The guard had already disappeared.

And he’d taken her secret with him.