The Sun Dwellers

“I know who they are,” Bren says. “We’ve followed their journey quite closely, although always with a grain of salt—you know how much propaganda is on the news these days.”

“And I’m Trevor,” Trevor says, interjecting himself into the conversation. “This is all interesting, but we don’t really have time for chitchat. Can we cut to the chase here?”

Bren laughs again. “Your other friend is right, Roc. We mustn’t tarry; too much is at stake on this night of frivolity. Let me explain as succinctly as possible. I am also a servant, like Roc once was, working for a key sun dweller vice president who I will not name. My brother and sister also work in the same household, as aides to the master’s children.”

I raise my eyebrows, a question on my lips.

“I met Bren at a party many years ago hosted by your father,” Roc says to me, reading my mind, as usual. He doesn’t mention that my father is his father, too. “There’s a sort of society of sun dweller servants. We meet in secret when we’re ru

“What you did not know, Roc,” Bren says, his eyes narrowing, “is that I was part of a faction within the servant society, one with a singular goal of helping to overthrow the government and bringing balance back to the Tri-Realms.” There’s a tremor in his voice as he speaks, not one of fear, but of pride, as if his passion for the cause is trying to get out in any way it can. The coldness of gooseflesh rises up on my arms.

“But why…?” Roc says, a question in his tone and in his eyes. He doesn’t finish the question, but Bren seems to discern the rest.

“I didn’t know to whom your or Tristan’s loyalties were,” Bren says. “You were on a shortlist of potential new inductees into our group, but then you ran away from the Sun Realm. That’s when we knew for sure you were one of us.”

“So you’re hiding in the trash as part of your work for this clandestine radical group?” Adele guesses.

“Oh no, we are not radicals,” Bren says. “We are revolutionaries. But yes, we seek to escape this place to join the Resistance below. If others are fighting, then we too shall fight. This Dumpster is a meeting place. The others shall join us soon. Then we make our way to the Moon Realm.”

Bren has a fu

“Can you help us?” I ask, not really realizing the trust I’m putting in the servant until the words escape my lips.

“We ca

“All we need is safe passage to the palace—I mean, the presidential complex. Can you show us the best way?”

“Ah, now that is truly a simple request. We’ll have you there within the hour. But then we must be off to join the forces below, for we will not sit idly by while the fate of the world rests on a knife’s edge.”

What Bren doesn’t know is that we’re the ones holding the knife.

Chapter Nineteen

Adele

I’m glad to be off the streets again.

Meeting Bren will either be the greatest stroke of luck to grace our mission thus far, or the coincidence that leads to our demise. Being a servant, he is one I’d certainly trust over anyone else up here. In any case, we’ve decided to follow him through the underground sewer system below the city, a dark, dank, and somber place that reminds me more of home than anything I’ve seen in the Sun Realm thus far.

We walk along the edge of the cylindrical concrete shaft that we find ourselves in, avoiding getting our feet wet sloshing through the thin stream of water that runs down the center. Tawni’s heels are off again, this time for good. Before discarding them in the water, I overheard her say, “I’ll miss you, pretty shoes,” which I don’t understand at all, and probably never will.

Bren has a flashlight, which saves us from using ours. As he walks abreast with his still-silent brother and sister, he explains the situation as he knows it. “I have information from a reliable source that the sun dwellers launched a coordinated attack last night on every major moon dweller border. They started with heavy bombing, which was then followed by large contingents of soldiers moving in to take control of each subchapter. The moon dwellers had little chance of stopping them.”

I can’t breathe, the thick oxygen sticking in my throat like glue. I stop, wheezing, my elbows dropping to my knees.

“Adele, what’s the matter?” Tristan says. His hand gently touches my back.

“What subchapters?” I choke out.

“I do not know,” Bren says. “But I do know subchapter one was hit the hardest.”

My legs start shaking and my vision blurs. Unable to hold up my weight any longer, I roll to the side, my shoulder thudding off the unforgiving concrete. My cheek scrapes against the rough surface, but I don’t care. No mark on my face could be as bad as what I’ve just heard. “We’re too late,” I moan. “It’s over.”

Tristan’s face appears through my tears as he kneels over me. “There’s still hope,” he says. “If she survived there will be a trial. She’ll be sentenced to death, but we might be able to rescue her before that happens.”

“And if she didn’t survive?” I say, images of my mom’s battered face cycling through my mind in black and white.

“She did,” Tristan asserts, “but if she didn’t, you still have your sister to take care of. If we can finish our mission, it could still make a difference for anyone still alive, especially for the non-military.”

Elsey’s face appears, replacing my dead mother. She’s smiling as usual, despite the war and my dad dying and my mom maybe dying and me being on a potential suicide mission. Just seeing her face for a moment, even if only in my mind, lifts my spirits long enough for me to blink away the tears and allow Tristan to help me to my feet.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, unwilling to look any of my comrades in the face after my mini-meltdown. “I’m okay now.”

“Screw ’em,” Trevor says. “As long as we’re alive, they’ve got a fight on their hands.”

When I look up my friends are staring at me. Tristan’s brow is furrowed and worried. Tawni looks ready to throw her arms around me. Roc is, well, he’s Roc, solid and steady and reliable, his hand half-extended, as if ready to catch me if my legs fail again. And Trevor: his face is a scowl, an expression that represents the righteous anger inside him, an anger that will only help us finish this mission together. His face, more than any of the others, steels me the most. My knuckles tighten at my sides as a surge of fire runs through me.

“Let’s end this,” I say.

We continue our march through the sewer, and my legs feel the lightest they’ve felt since leaving the Moon Realm. I can almost feel my friends, my sister, my mother, even my father, holding me up, becoming a part of me, supporting me. We’re in this together, still alive, still whole, still hopeful.

What was a steely determination to kill the man who ordered the death of my father, the maiming of my baby sister, has turned into a fierce and burning desire for revenge. Not just for those who I know that have been harmed by the cruel dictator who sits on his throne deep in the capital, but for everyone whose lives have been negatively impacted by his evil ways. We can’t get to him fast enough for me. Every muscle and ligament and bone in my body is firing perfectly, working efficiently as a team, and I know that when we do meet him I’ll be unstoppable, the most powerful and deadly force that he’s ever seen.