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.
the sheathed blade before she can raise her arms in defense. “My point,” I say, and don’t bother hiding my smirk. She circles me. “Lucky shot.” I lash out again, but she’s ready. Blocking me with the middle of her Switch, she whirls beneath my outstretched arms and slams the weighted end into my thigh. Pride keeps me from swearing at the pain. Instead, I sweep her feet out from under her. She flips in midair and rolls forward as she lands, coming up with her stick ready. The controlled grace
again. “They just wanted money,” I say softly. “Just money. You don’t need your knife.” She shakes her head and whimpers. I slowly extend the hand that doesn’t hold her knife. “I’m sorry.” It’s a hollow offering in the face of what she’s been through, and I don’t intend for it to be the best I can do. But for now, I just need to get her home. I can make a plan from there. She doesn’t respond. “I don’t know what he did to you, but killing someone else isn’t going to make it better. I’m going
the guards, beneath the steel arch with the Commander’s talon-and-double-slash insignia burned into the center of its smooth surface, and leave the city behind. The road leads away from the Wall through the scorched ground that makes up Baalboden’s perimeter and ends at the charred remains of the highwaymen’s wagons. We walk it in silence until we reach the point where the road ends and the wild tangle of the Wasteland begins. Stopping, we open our packs and pull out our weapons. Melkin straps
emotions from yesterday out into the open. But Rachel doesn’t need to deal with my grief and anger. She needs an outlet for her own. Any other Baalboden girl would want sympathy and the cushion of her Protector keeping all hardship from her. But while other girls were raised to be dependent and obedient, Rachel was taught to think and act for herself. I know exactly how to help her. “Want to spar?” She frowns and slowly pulls her hand away from the wires. “Spar?” “Yes.” She glances around as
Commander stops, holds out the fake tech, and tries to manipulate the gears wired to its surface. I laugh, but choke on it when the Commander throws the fake device to the ground, rips open his uniform, and pulls out a heavy silver chain with what looks like a severed lizard foot dangling from it, its talons curved into wickedly sharp tips. It resembles a smaller version of the Cursed One’s own limb. The beast jerks to a stop and snorts, sucking in the air around it as if hunting for something.