“—not her first time singing their song—”
Kilorn is the first to break, both hands curling into fists. “You think she wanted to do this?” he says, his voice loud enough to carry, but not harsh. His face reddens with frustration, and Cal puts a hand on his shoulder, standing with him. It silences more than a few, particularly the younger officers. They look embarrassed, apologetic, even, shamed by the reprimand of an eighteen-year-old boy.
“Quiet, all of you!” the Colonel rumbles, shutting up the rest. He turns once to glare with his mismatched eyes. “The brat is still speaking.”
“Colonel . . . ,” Cal growls. His tone is a threat plain as day.
In reply, the Colonel points on-screen. At Maven, not Mare.
“. . . offer refuge to any fleeing the terror of the Scarlet Guard. And to the newbloods among you, hiding from what seems to be little more than genocide, my own doors are open. I have instructed the royal palaces of Archeon, Harbor Bay, Delphie, and Summerton, as well as the military forts of Norta, to protect your kind from slaughter. You will have food, shelter, and, if you wish it, training for your abilities. You are my subjects to protect, and I will do it with every resource I have to give. Mare Barrow is not the first of you to join us, and she will not be the last.” He has the smug audacity to lay a hand on her arm.
So this is how barely more than a boy becomes a king. He’s not only ruthless and remorseless, but just plain brilliant. If not for the rage curling in me, I would be impressed. His ploy will cause problems for the Guard, of course. Personally, I’m more concerned with the newbloods still out there. We were recruited to Mare and her rebellion with little choice in the matter. Now there’s even less. The Guard or the King. Both see us as weapons. Both will get us killed. But only one will keep us in chains.
I glance over my shoulder, seeking out Ada. Her eyes are glued to the screen, effortlessly memorizing every tick and inflection to be scrutinized later. Like me, she frowns, thinking about the deeper worry no member of the Scarlet Guard has yet. What will happen to the people like us?
“To the Scarlet Guard, I say only this,” Maven adds, standing up from his throne. “Your dawn is little more than darkness, and it will never take this country. We fight to the last. Strength and power.”
On the dais, and across the rest of the throne room, the chant echoes from every mouth. Including Mare’s. “Strength and power.”
The image holds for a second, burning the sight into every brain. Red and Silver, the lightning girl and King Maven, united against the great evil they’ve made us out to be. I know it isn’t Mare’s choice, but it is her fault. Didn’t she realize he would use her if he didn’t kill her?
She didn’t think he would do it. Cal said that before, about her interrogation. They are both weak where Maven is concerned, and that weakness continues to plague us all.
Back at the Notch, Mare did her best to school me in my ability. I practice here when I can, together with the other newbloods learning their limits. Cal and Julian Jacos attempt to help, but I and many others are loath to trust their tutelage. Besides, I’ve found someone else to help me.
I know my ability has grown in strength, if not control. I feel it now, prodding beneath my skin, a blissful emptiness to still the chaos around me. It begs, and I clench a fist against it, keeping the silence back. I can’t turn my anger on the people in this room. They aren’t the enemy.
When the screen cuts to black, signaling the end of the address, a dozen voices sound at once. Cal’s palm slams against the desk in front of him, and he turns, muttering to himself.
“I’ve seen enough,” I think he says before he pushes his way out of the room. Stupid. He knows his own brother. He can dissect Maven’s words better than any of us.
The Colonel knows it too. “Get him back here,” he says under his breath, leaning in to speak to Julian. The Silver nods, moving smoothly to retrieve his nephew. Many stop talking to watch him go.
“Captain Farley, your thoughts?” the Colonel says, his sharp voice drawing attention back where it belongs. He crosses his arms and turns to face his daughter.
Farley snaps to focus, seemingly unaffected by the speech. She swallows a bite of potato. “The natural response would be a broadcast of our own. Refuting Maven’s claims, showing the country who we saved.”
Using us as propaganda. Doing exactly what Maven is doing to Mare. My stomach tightens at the thought of being shoved in front of a camera, forced to sing the praises of the people I barely tolerate and cannot fully trust.
Her father nods. “I agree—”
“But I don’t think that’s the right course of action.”
The Colonel raises the brow of his ruined eye.
She takes it as an invitation to continue. “It’ll just be words. Nothing of use in the end, in the scheme of what’s going on.” Her fingers tap against her lips, and I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. “I think we keep Maven talking, while we keep on doing. Already our infiltration of Corvium is placing strain on the king. See how he singled out the city? Its military? He’s bolstering morale. Why do that if they don’t need it?”
At the back of the room, Julian returns, one hand on Cal’s shoulder. They’re of the same height, though Cal looks about fifty pounds heavier than his uncle. Corros Prison certainly took as much of a toll on Julian as it did the rest of us.
“We have a good deal of information regarding Corvium,” Farley adds. “And its importance to Nortan military, not to mention Silver morale, makes it the perfect place.”
“For what?” I hear myself ask, surprising everyone in the room, myself included.