I had to trade seats with Farley, letting her take my pilot’s chair so I can sit across from Cameron and keep an eye on her. She’s firmly strapped in, with her hands bound in a spare safety belt. That, paired with our current altitude, should be enough to keep her from bolting again. But I’m not willing to take such a chance. For all I know, she can fly or survive a fall from an airjet. As much as I want to use the journey back to the Notch to catch up on much-needed sleep, I keep my eyes open, meeting her glare with as much fire as I can muster. She chose wrong, I tell myself every time the guilt creeps up. We need her, and she’s worth too much to lose.
Nanny babbles at her side, regaling her with tales of the Notch as well as her own life story. I half expect her to pull out the weathered photographs of her grandchildren, as she always does, but Cameron stands firm where none of us could. Even the kindly old woman cannot get through to the scowling girl, who stays silent and staring at her feet.
“What’s your ability, dear? Superhuman rudeness?” she finally scoffs, fed up with being ignored.
That gets Cameron to at least turn her head, wrenching her eyes off the floor. She opens her mouth to sneer back, but instead of an old woman, she finds herself staring at her own face. “Stop the line!” she curses, letting loose more of her slum slang. Her eyes widen and her bound hands squirm, trying to get free. “Is anyone else seeing this?”
I chuckle darkly to myself, not bothering to hide my smirk. Leave it to Nanny to scare the girl into speaking. “Nanny can shift her appearance,” I tell her. “Gareth manipulates gravity.” He waves from his makeshift stretcher fixed to the side of the plane. “And you already know about the rest.”
“I’m useless,” Farley chirps from her seat. A blade flicks back and forth in her hands, betraying exactly how wrong she is.
Cameron snorts, her eyes following the knife as it flashes. “Just like me.” There isn’t a shred of pity in her voice, only fact.
“Not true.” I pat Julian’s journal at my side. “You got past an eye, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“Well, that’s all I’ve ever done, or will ever do.” The straps around her arms twist, but hold firm. “You grabbed a nobody, lighting girl. You don’t want to waste your time on me.”
Coming from anyone else, it might sound sad, but Cameron is smarter than that. She thinks I don’t see what she’s doing. But no matter what she says, no matter how useless she tries to make herself seem, I won’t believe it. Her name is on the list, and that’s no mistake. Maybe she doesn’t know what she is yet, but we will certainly find out. I’m not blind either. Even while I hold her challenging stare, letting her think she has me fooled, I’m aware of her deeper game. Her able fingers, trained on a factory floor, work at her bindings with slow but sure efficiency. If I don’t keep an eye on her, it won’t be long until she twists out of her restraints.
“You know Corros better than any of us.” As I speak, Nanny morphs back to her usual self. “That’s enough for me.”
“You got a mind reader here then? ’Cause that’s the only way you’re getting a bleeding word out of me.” I half expect her to spit at my feet.
Despite my best efforts, I find myself losing my patience. “You’re either useless or you’re resistant. Pick one.” She raises an eyebrow, surprised by my tone. “If you’re going to lie, you might as well do it properly.”
The corner of her mouth twitches, betraying a wicked grin. “Forgot you know all about that.”
I hate children.
“Don’t act so high-and-mighty,” she presses on, throwing words like daggers. Besides her voice, the drone of the jet fills the air. The others are listening intently, Cal most of all. I expect to feel heat rise at any moment. “You’re no lordy lady now, no matter how many of us you try to order around. Bedding a princeling doesn’t make you queen of the heap.”
Lights flicker over her head, the only indication of my anger. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cal tighten his grip on the jet controls. Like me, he’s doing his best to keep calm and reasonable. But this bitch insists on making it so difficult. Why couldn’t Jon send us a map instead?
“Cameron, you’re going to tell us how you escaped that prison.” Lady Blonos would be proud of my composure. “You’re going to tell us what it looks like, where the cells are, where the guards are, where they keep the Silvers, the newbloods, and everything else your remember, down to the last bleeding nail. Is that clear?”
She flicks one of her many braids over her shoulder. It’s the only thing she can move without straining against her many belts and straps. “What’s in it for me, then?”
“Innocence.” I heave a breath. “You keep running your mouth and you leave all those prisoners to their fate.” Jon’s words float back to me, a haunting echo of a warning. “To die, or face worse. I’m saving you from the guilt of that.” A guilt I know too well.
There’s a slow pressure at my shoulder—Shade. Leaning into me, letting me know he’s there. A brother in blood and arms, another to share in victory, and blame.
But instead of agreeing, as any rational person should, Cameron looks even angrier than before. Her face darkens, a thundercloud of emotion. “Can’t believe you’ve got the stones to say that. You, who abandoned so many after you sentenced them to the trenches.”
Cal’s had enough. He slams a fist onto the arm of his chair. It echoes bluntly. “That wasn’t her order—”
“But it was your fault. You and your stupid band of ratty red rags.” She tosses a glare at Farley, cutting off any retort she might throw. “Gambling with our families, our lives, while you ran and hid in the woods. And now you think you’re some kind of hero, flying around saving everyone you think is special, who’s worth the lightning girl’s precious time. I bet you walk right through the slums and the poor villages. I bet you don’t even see what you’ve done to us.” The blood rises with her anger, coloring her cheeks in a dark, lurid flush. I can’t do much more than stare. “Newbloods, silverbloods, redbloods, it’s all the same, all over again. Some who are special, some who are better than the rest, and the ones who still have nothing at all.”
Sickness rolls in my belly, a foreboding wave of dread. “What do you mean?”
“Division. Favoring one over the other. You’re on the hunt for people like you, to protect them, to train them, to make them fight your war. Not because they want to, but because you need them. What about those kids going to fight? You don’t care about them at all. You’d trade them all for another walking, whining spark plug.”
The lights flicker again, faster than before. I feel every revolution of the jet engines, despite their blinding speed. The sensation is maddening. “I’m trying to save people from Maven. He’s going to turn newbloods into weapons, which will end in more death, more blood—”
“You’re doing exactly what they did.” She points her bound hands at Cal. They shake with anger. I know the feeling, and try to hide the tremors of rage in my own fingers.
“Mare.” Cal’s warning falls on deaf ears, drowned out by my thundering pulse.
Cameron spits venom. She’s enjoying this. “An age ago, when the Silvers were new. When they were few, hunted by the people who thought they were too different.”
My hands grip the edge of my seat, digging into something solid. Control. Now the jet whines in my ear, a screech to split bone.
We bounce in the air, and Gareth yelps, clutching at his leg. “Cameron, stop!” Farley shouts, her hands flying to her belts. They unsnap in rapid succession. “If you don’t shut yourself up, I will!”
But Cameron only has eyes, and anger, for me. “Look where that road led,” she growls, leaning as far as her straps will allow. Before I know it, I’m on my feet, my balance unsteady as the jet sways. I can barely hear her over the metallic shrieks bouncing around my skull. Her hands are out of her bindings, unfastening her belts with striking precision. She jumps up to stand, snarling into my face. “A hundred years from now a newblood king will sit the throne you built him on the skulls of children.”
Something tears inside me. It’s the barrier between human and animal, between sense and madness. Suddenly I’ve forgotten the jet, the altitude, and everyone else relying on my weakening control. I can think only of educating this brat, of showing exactly who and what we’re trying to save. When my fist collides with her jaw, I expect to see sparks spread over her skin, dragging her down to the floor.