He growled at her. Scarlet growled back.
Lips pressed into a thin line, the bearded man glanced from the nervous civilians with their sharpened sticks, to the brawny, fur-covered soldiers. “We’ve been sending messengers to the nearest sectors when we can, but it’s difficult trying to coordinate the attack. The shuttles are all down. And we aren’t warriors.”
“Clearly,” one of the soldiers grumbled.
Someone in the crowd hissed, “Tell them about the guards.”
Scarlet raised her eyebrows as the crowd’s fear was replaced with puffing chests and straightened spines. “Guards?”
“We’ve had a regiment of armed guards stationed here for years, and we’ve talked about trying to overwhelm them, even made plans for it before, but it always seemed pointless when Levana would just send more. But as soon as Selene’s message came through…” He grinned back at his peers. “Our plan worked. We had them disarmed within minutes, and now they’re locked up in one of the storerooms in the mill.” He crossed his arms. “There were fatalities, but we knew there would be. We’re willing to do what must be done, just like the people in RM-9. I believe Selene has given us what might be our only chance.”
Scarlet blinked. “What about the people in RM-9?”
“They say Selene was there, and there was a woman housing her. She was just a miner, no one special, like us, but she proved how brave we can be.”
“Maha Kesley,” whispered Scarlet.
The man jolted in surprise. “That’s right.” He glanced back at the gathered people, his jaw set. “She was killed for offering her home to our true queen, but her death won’t be in vain, just like the deaths of all those who stood up to Levana in the past.”
Scarlet nodded, though she was still reeling. Aimery had intended for Maha’s death to act as a warning to anyone who sided with Cinder, but here, at least, it had the opposite effect.
Maha Kesley had become a martyr.
“You’re right,” she said. “Selene doesn’t need you to be warriors. Maha Kesley certainly wasn’t, but she was brave and believed in our cause. That resolve is what this revolution needs.”
“A few more warriors wouldn’t hurt,” Strom muttered, grabbing a stick away from the nearest civilian, who shrank away. “Everyone—back in formation! Let’s see if we can’t make you look a little less pathetic.”
Sixty
“The residents of GM-3 have overpowered the guards sent to quell the uprising that began in the factories yesterday afternoon,” said Aimery, reciting the information from a portscreen as if this were business as usual. Levana allowed the charade, keeping her face calm as she listened to the report. Only her foot tapped against the glistening tiles of her solar, shaking with restrained fury. “We are sending a new regiment of guards, along with a thaumaturge this time. The uprising in WM-2 has been put down, with sixty-four civilian casualties and a loss of five guards. We are conducting a full census on the sector, but we estimate close to two hundred civilians escaped prior to the insurrection along with an unknown amount of stolen weaponry and ammunition. The guards in all neighboring sectors have been put on high alert.”
Levana downed a long, thin breath. She paced to the massive windows overlooking the city. Her perfect, pristine, tranquil city. It seemed impossible that so much chaos was happening on her planet, not when everything here was so calm, so normal.
And all because of that cyborg and her wretched video and her stupid speeches.
“Sixteen agriculture sectors have refused to load the supply trains that were brought in,” Aimery rambled on, “and we are told that one unguarded train carrying dairy products, many intended for this week’s celebrations, was boarded by a group of civilians outside Sector AR-5 and stripped of supplies. We have been unable to retrieve any of those goods or apprehend the thieves at this time.” He cleared his throat. “In Sector GM-19, the citizens have blockaded two of the three maglev platforms, and this morning they killed twenty-four guards sent to tear down the blockades. We are compiling a thaumaturge-controlled regiment to send there as well.”
Levana rubbed a kink from her shoulder.
“In Sector SB-2—”
The elevator chimed in the center of the room, pulling Levana’s attention away from the city. Thaumaturge Lindwurm swooped in and dipped into a hasty bow, his black sleeves scraping the floor.
“Your Majesty.”
“If you are here to tell me that the outer sectors are in chaos and the people are in revolt, I am afraid you are sorely late.” She snapped her fingers at the servant who stood beside the elevator doors. “Bring wine.”
The servant scurried away.
“No, My Queen,” said Lindwurm. “I have news from the barracks, Regiment 117.”
“What? Are they in revolt too?” Levana cackled, though beneath her hysteria lurked a growing dread. Could that cyborg have turned her entire country against her with such ease?