Extraits

Chapter One

I was running. Pain stabbed my arches with every smack of a sandal against the cobblestones. Each breath was fire in my lungs, rasping through my throat.

But I wouldn't stop. Not today.

With every step, I shoved away the memory of my father's broken face, fresh bruises atop the fading yellow of last week's beating. The harder my aching legs pumped, the easier it was to forget the defeated slump of his shoulders. The resignation.

Around me, the alley was a dark stone mouth. Balconies jutted like teeth, cutting away the sky. Up there, flowers draped the rails. But down below, it was just gloom and crates and the smell of mildew rising like bad breath from the sewer grates.

My heel slammed onto the pebble, and I yelped. Hopping, I cursed my pathetic sandals - I'd made them myself, squinting by lamplight, bruising my hand as I shoved the needle through hardened leather.

"Idiot girl. Break your fool neck running down here," a rag seller said as she squinted through the shadows.

I shrugged. Whether selling rags in a dark alley or spinning to a trial no one expected me to attempt, being gutterburn meant taking risks. What other choice did I have? Give up like my father?

Da was done resisting. He'd let them take our money, leave us scraping for meals. But backing down would just make the collectors bolder. The next time, he'd have worse than a broken nose. And soon, the thugs would come after my little brother. They'd already threatened him. Next would be fists. Or a length of chain like they'd already on our neighbor.

Da wouldn't fight anymore, which meant it was all up to me. If I passed the nightcaller trial - if they selected me for the expedition - everything would change.

So I ran.