Numbers Ignite by Rebecca Rode

Nations for Peace convention meets.”
    Europe. Nations for Peace. So many strange concepts. Ruby was right—I had a lot to learn about the world outside NORA. Maybe I’d be getting more out of this than I thought.
    As soon as she took a breath, I held up a hand. “I’ll turn some time over to you at the end, Mandie, and you can tell us about Europe. Until then, let’s talk about vowels.”

 
     
     
     

     
    At some point in my life I probably knew the symptoms of a cracked rib. As clan chief, my dad required everyone to learn the basics of first aid by the time we turned fourteen. That was him, self-reliance personified. That attitude made him a great leader, and the people would do anything for him. It also made him really hard to live with.
    Now, sitting cross-legged on my bedroll, there wasn’t a single position that was comfortable. So far I’d tried lying down, standing, leaning back against the bars, and slouching. Even breathing hurt, all the pain blending together. I straightened my arms, letting them take some of my weight, sitting up straight, and taking shallow breaths. The pain was bearable now, at least.
    It was hard to tell how long ago they’d dumped me here. I vaguely remembered the swaying of a stretcher and spit slapping into my cheek just before the prison door slammed shut. When I came to in the darkness, the spit was still there, dry and crusty. It was harder than it should have been to lift my arm and wipe it off.
    I resisted the urge to take a deep breath, knowing the pain would bring me nearly to unconsciousness. If I lay down now, I’d never get back up. My body would become a part of the floor. Flesh to dirt, like my father. Alive one moment, gone the next.
    I sat there, the debate cycling through my head over and over, when the door opened. Edyn entered carrying a solar-powered lantern. The sudden light sent a knife through my brain. I groaned and looked away, choosing to keep my arm where it was rather than shield my sight.
    “Yuck,” she said. “Your face is more colorful than an artist’s palette.”
    Wanted a new look , I tried to say, but it came out as a groan.
    She slammed a chair down in front of the bars, then plopped into it. “What in Hades were you thinking? Do you have a death wish or something?”
    “I don’t—” Pain lanced through my ribs at the effort, but I pushed through. “I don’t have an obligation to most of those people. I don’t care what they think.”
    “But insisting that our clan beat you up? Did it occur to you how arrogant that would sound?”
    Black spots danced in my vision. Unconsciousness wasn’t far off if I kept talking. It would be a welcome relief. “Worth a try.”
    “Yeah, well, here we actually have these things called laws. It’s about time you listened to me, your lawyer . I’m trying to save your life, remember? Or do you struggle to care about the whole death-sentence thing, too?”
    “If it gets me away from your shouting, then great.”
    “You say that, but I know better. You act like you don’t care about anyone but yourself. Maybe that was true two years ago.” Her voice softened. “But I thought you’d changed. Want to know what I see when I look at you?”
    “Besides rugged good looks?”
    “Potential.” She leaned back and crossed her legs. “Wasted potential. Mills is a coward, you know. When they took me in two years ago, he barely cared about what was happening here. He was so focused on NORA and their queen—”
    “Empress.”
    “Whatever. It was obsessive, how he focused all his energy on a civilization so far away. The settlers almost unseated him and put someone else in his place, it got so bad. But conveniently, these Asian dudes showed up and said their settlement had been destroyed and they needed a place to stay. Now they practically run the place for him, and nobody dares challenge him. Vance, you could be three times the man Mills is if you stopped doing stupid things.”
    “What I don’t