Defiance (Defiance Trilogy)
C. J. Redwine
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Defiance by C. J. Redwine is rich postapocalyptic YA fantasy perfect for fans of Graceling and Tamora Pierce.
While the other girls in the walled city-state of Baalboden learn to sew and dance, Rachel Adams learns to track and hunt. While they bend like reeds to the will of their male Protectors, she uses hers for sparring practice.
When Rachel's father fails to return from a courier mission and is declared dead, the city's brutal Commander assigns Rachel a new Protector: her father's apprentice, Logan—the boy she declared her love to and who turned her down two years before. Left with nothing but fierce belief in her father's survival, Rachel decides to escape and find him herself.
As Rachel and Logan battle their way through the Wasteland, stalked by a monster that can't be killed and an army of assassins out for blood, they discover romance, heartbreak, and a truth that will incite a war decades in the making.
steady drip of ale leaking from the barrel behind Thom and the quiet movements of the serving girl, who takes another look out the window as if searching the street for something. “You take a risk bringing tech like that out into the open.” The man gestures toward the discs lying on the counter beside me. “If you’re caught, it’s the dungeon or worse for you.” “The guards leave me alone as much as the rest of you do.” “And how do you feel about that?” “Am I supposed to feel something about
stage as workers scrub the wood and set up booths in preparation for tomorrow’s Claiming ceremony. I’m grateful we’ll be leaving Baalboden before Rachel reaches Claiming age. The thought of standing behind her on the stage while a group of eager townsmen try to convince me to give her over to them forever makes me want to knock their heads together. Not because I can’t give Rachel to the right man for her. But I know every available bachelor in Baalboden, and while I’ve never really considered
an inner grief of his own. If I can soften him toward my cause, maybe we can be a team against the Commander. “Maybe I’m wrong,” I say. “But how am I to know for sure?” He laughs, a small, brittle sound, and looks at me. “How can either of us know anything for sure? We’ve been backed into a corner, threatened with losing everything, and then set loose to circle each other like South Edge dogs afraid to lose a prize bone.” I stare at him, my mind racing. Is he really in the same situation as
toward the spot I just vacated. I slide my knife free without a sound, and ready myself. The fear I felt earlier at the thought of shedding someone’s blood without giving them fair notice is gone. In its place is cold determination. I’m not going to die. Not until the Commander lies in a pool of his own blood at my feet. My pursuer is close enough that I can hear him breathe now, rough, uneven pants that speak of someone without the proper training to control his breathing when it matters
sacrifice worth nothing. I raise my weapon. “Get back.” I snarl at him in a voice I barely recognize. Cold. Empty. “You said he’d keep his word if I just did what he asked.” His voice is cold and empty too. “I lied.” His face contorts, his body shakes, his legs tense. “Get. Back,” I say. He watches me, his knife hand trembling so badly that he’ll never be able to stab me with it before I disarm him, tie him up, and leave him for Quinn and Willow to deal with. Rolling to the balls of my