Page 174 of The Amber Sunburst

He does.

“Walk outside.”

He doesn’t.

“Then why don’t all three of us go?” Alexander pleads. “You guys can lead me there, like a public execution. It’s a powerful statement.”

One that might end in his own death, but at least it would give Kallias a chance to run.

“Boy.”

“Kallias, please.” Alexander doesn’t even know what he’s asking for. Kallias has a gun to his head, he can’t just get up.

The gun looks so unnatural there, Alexander muses in his desperation. His hair is stardust. It belongs in a universe a million light years away. The wrongness of steel mixing with the shimmering gold is uncanny in the worst way. He needs it to stop.

No. He needs to stop it.

And he still has the sword. He could throw it. His aim isn’t particularly good but if Kallias jumps out of the way he could spear the Educator. Or Kallias could pick up the sword and do it himself.

He opens his mouth to tell Kallias to duck, but he doesn’t get the chance. Because the Educator’s gun is raised once more.

Bang.

The shot sends him flying backwards.

The sun is blinding. The pain is too.

He ignores it all, pushing frantically back to his feet. And for a second he thinks he’ll make it back inside. The Educator is out of sight, and all that’s left is Kallias, looking distantly at him through the doorway.

Forms, I love him, Alexander thinks, at the door’s threshold. But his view of Kallias is blocked by the Educator, who smiles at him, eye to eye, in the doorway.

“Goodbye, Alexander,” he says before slamming the door in his face.

The click of a lock sounds through the alleyway.

Just like that.

“No,” Alexander says softly. “Kallias?”

“Kallias,” he shouts, his hands shaking as he fights with the handle and kicks at the steel. It’s no use. The door only locks from the inside.

He doesn’t care. He pounds on it relentlessly anyways.

“Kallias,” he begs again and again, only met with the light echo of his cries against hard steel.

His eyes are clouded with red and his voice is raw, but he doesn’t stop. It’s hopeless and futile, but he doesn’t stop. His hands are bloody and his body is shutting down, but he doesn’t stop.

“Estrela, estrela, por favor. Te amo. Te amo muito.”

His legs give out eventually. He’s pretty sure it’s the blood loss. He doesn’t stop.

“Give him back, please. Please, I’ll do anything,” he sobs.

Only once his voice is so shredded that he can no longer speak and his hands are too swollen to ball into fists does something startle him out of his fog.

An alarm blares through the city. It’s coming from the Academy.

Something else has gone wrong.