The Trash Picker and the Secret King

The Escape Route

The explosion throws me backward into the dust. Wood and plaster fly through the air, filling our small room with a thick gray cloud. I cough, trying to push myself up from the dirty floor. My hands still clutch the heavy metal box Lord Valen gave me.

Through the dust and smoke, the glow of blue swords lights up the ruins of our front wall. Elite guards step over the broken pieces of wood. Their metal masks catch the light, making them look less like men and more like machines built to kill.

There he is, one guard says, pointing his blue blade right at my chest.

I try to stand, but my legs feel weak. The shock of the explosion is still ringing in my ears.

Before the guards can move forward, Lyra is suddenly there beside me. She does not look scared at all. Instead, she pulls a small black device from her green jacket and taps the glass screen with her thumb.

Hold on to your metal box, trash picker, she says, her voice fast and sharp.

She presses a red button on the device. A loud beep fills the room, and a bright flash of white light bursts from the floorboards right in front of the guards. A thick wall of gray smoke shoots up, blinding the men in armor. They start coughing and swinging their blue swords wildly at the empty air.

Lyra grabs my arm with a strong grip and pulls me toward the back of the room. Move! she commands.

We dive through the small window opening just as a blue energy beam melts the wall where we were standing a second before. We crash hard into the wet mud of the alley. The cold air hits my face, but we do not stop to catch our breath.

Lyra leads the way through a maze of dark, winding alleys behind the dump. She runs with a strange kind of confidence, turning corners without even looking, as if she has mapped out every inch of these slums in her sleep. I stay right behind her, hugging the heavy metal box tightly against my chest with one hand while my other hand still tingles with leftover purple magic.

We run for what feels like hours, dodging piles of trash and old broken pipes, until the shouts of the guards fade away behind us. Finally, Lyra stops behind a tall pile of rusted metal containers. She leans against the cold steel, breathing heavily, but she still has that same bright, confident smile on her face.

I think we lost them, she says, wiping a smudge of dirt from her cheek.

I drop to my knees, gasping for air. My chest burns, and my mind is racing a million miles an hour. In one single night, my home is destroyed, Aunt Elena is dead, a dying noble told me I am a king, and now I am running for my life with a girl I met five minutes ago.

Who are you?" I ask, looking up at her with anger building inside my chest. And how did you know where to find me?

Lyra folds her arms across her green jacket and looks down at me. Her dark eyes are smart and sharp, weighing every move I make.

I told you, my name is Lyra, she says, her tone completely calm. And I know where to find you because people with glowing purple hands tend to stand out in a city full of gray trash.

You were waiting for me," I say, standing up to face her. You knew the guards were coming. Why?

Lyra steps closer, not backing down from my angry stare. Because I need what is inside that metal box you are holding. And you need someone who knows how to keep you alive while the entire city council tries to erase you from history.

Before I can answer her, a deep voice echoes from the shadows further down the dark alley.

She is right, kid. If you walk out of these alleys on your own, the high towers will have your head on a spike before the sun comes up.

We both spin around. A tall man steps out from the shadows of a rusted shipping container. He wears a heavy leather coat and has a long scar running across his left cheek. Two other men stand behind him, holding metal pipes and small laser guns.

Lyra does not look surprised. She actually relaxes her shoulders a little bit, as if she was expecting this person to show up.

Jax, Lyra says, nodding to the scarred man. You took your time.

I had to make sure the guards did not follow you to our camp, Jax says. He walks closer, his eyes fixing entirely on me. His gaze is heavy and dangerous, like a wolf sizing up its dinner. He stops a few feet away and looks down at the metal box in my arms.

So, Jax says with a slow, cold smile. This is the lost king of River City. Does he even know how to use that power, or is he just a scared kid holding trash?

My hands begin to warm up again. The purple light starts to glow faintly through my work gloves. I am tired of running. I am tired of people treating me like a pawn in a game I never asked to play.

I am neither trash nor a king, I say, stepping right up to Jax. And if you want this box, you are going to have to take it from my hands.

Jax lets out a short, harsh laugh. "I like him. He has fire. He looks past me at Lyra. Bring him inside. It is time we introduce our new royal guest to the rebellion.

Lyra nods and gestures for me to follow Jax deeper into the underground tunnels. I hesitate for a second, looking back toward the direction of the slums where Aunt Elena's body lies. There is no going back to my old life now.

I follow Jax and Lyra through a heavy iron door hidden beneath a pile of old garbage bags, walking down a long flight of concrete stairs that leads far beneath the ground. The air down here smells of damp earth and old oil.

We walk into a large, hidden room lit by flickering electric bulbs hanging from wires on the ceiling. Dozens of people are sitting around wooden tables, looking at computer screens and cleaning weapons. They are the rebels of River City, fighting a quiet war against the rich people in the glass towers.

Jax walks to the center of the room and turns around to face me. "Welcome to the underground, Kian. You think the guards were bad? Wait until you see what the council actually did to your parents.

He walks over to a large computer screen on the wall and presses a button. The screen flickers to life, showing a security video of a high-tech laboratory inside the highest glass tower of River City.

My breath catches in my throat. On the screen, a man and a woman with glowing purple hands, people who look just like me, are strapped to metal tables while men in white lab coats stand over them with sharp needles.

Your parents did not die in a normal accident, Jax says quietly, his eyes locked on mine. The council captured them, stole their magic, and wiped your memory so you would grow up in the dirt.

The anger inside me boils over into a blinding heat. My hands burst into bright purple flames, lighting up the entire dark room.

Where are they? I demand, my voice shaking with rage. Tell me where the council is right now!

Jax smiles a wide, chilling smile that does not reach his eyes. They are right above us, Kian. And tonight, we are going to use your blood to open their security vault.