“What you’re about to see isn’t real.”
I gesture to Harrick, who nods. He’s ready. Slowly, we move to our knees, crouching down to blend in with them. When his illusion on us lifts, the Silvers won’t notice us at first. Distracted. Hopefully.
My message travels quickly. The hostages tense. Even though they’re the same age as me, they seem older, worn by the months training to fight and then spent in a trench. Even Morrey, though he looks better fed than he ever was at home. Still invisible to his eye, I reach out and tentatively take his hand. His fingers close on mine, holding tight. And the illusion rendering us invisible drops. Two more bodies join the circle of hostages. The others blink at us, struggling to mask their surprise.
“Here we go,” Harrick murmurs.
Behind us, the Silvers continue bickering over the dead and dying. They don’t spare a thought for the hostages.
Harrick narrows his eyes, focusing on the curving tower wall to our right. He breathes heavily, air whistling through his nose and out his mouth. Gathering his strength. I brace myself for the blow, even though I know it doesn’t exist.
Suddenly the wall explodes inward in a bloom of fire and stone, exposing the tower to the sky. The Silvers shudder, scampering back from what they think is an attack. Airjets scream past, swooping through the false clouds. I blink, not believing my eyes. I shouldn’t believe my eyes. This isn’t real. But it looks amazingly, impossibly real.
Not that I have time to gape.
Harrick and I jump to our feet, herding the others with us. We bolt through the fire, flames licking close enough to burn us through. I flinch even though I know it isn’t there. The fire is distraction enough, startling the Silvers so that we can stampede through the door and onto the stairs.
I push on, leading the pack, while Harrick keeps the rear. He waves his arms like a dancer, weaving illusions out of thin air. Fire, smoke, another round of missiles. All of it keeps the Silvers from pursuing us, cowering from his spooling images. Silence blooms from me, a sphere of deadly power to fell the two Silver lookouts. Morrey clips my heels, almost making me trip, but he catches my arm, keeping me from going over the rail.
“Stop!” The first strongarm charges at me, head lowered like a bull. I pulse silence into his body, ramming my ability down his throat. He stumbles, feeling the full weight of my power. I feel it too, death rolling through his flesh. I have to kill him. And quickly. The force of my need crushes blood from his mouth and eyes as pieces of his body die off, organs one after the other. I smother the life from him faster than I’ve ever killed anyone before.
The other strongarm dies even faster. When I hit him with another exhausting pummel of silence, he trips sideways and falls headfirst. His skull cracks open on the stone floor, spilling blood and brain matter. A sob chokes in my chest, and I have no time to question my sudden disgust with myself. For Morrey. For Morrey.
My brother looks as agonized as I feel, his eyes glued to the dead strongarm bleeding all over the floor. I tell myself he’s just shocked, and not terrified of me.
“Go!” I bellow, voice choked with shame. Thankfully he does as I say, sprinting to the lower level with the rest.
Even though the ground entrance is blocked up, the hostages make quick work of it, tearing down the Silver fortifications until the double doors are laid bare, a single lock standing between all of us and freedom.
I vault over the strongarm’s crushed skull, tossing the small silver key. Morrey catches it. His conscription and my imprisonment have not stamped out our bond as twins. Sunlight streams through as he hauls the doors open and lunges into the fresh air, the other hostages sprinting with him.
Harrick comes flying down the stairs, false fire spewing in his wake. He waves me on, telling me to go, but I stay rooted. I’m not leaving without the illusionary.
We stumble out together, clutching each other tightly to face down a square full of perplexed guards armed to the teeth. They allow us through at Farley’s orders. She shouts nearby, directing them to focus on the tower entrance, in case the Silvers attempt to make a stand.
I don’t hear her words. I just keep walking until I have my brother in my arms. His heart beats rapidly in his chest. I revel in the sound. He’s here. He’s alive.
Not like the strongarms.
I still feel it, what I did to them.
What I did to every single person I ever killed.
The memories make me dizzy with shame. All for Morrey, all to survive. But no more.
I don’t have to be a murderer alongside everything else.
He clutches at me, eyes rolling in terror. “The Scarlet Guard,” he hisses, holding me close. “Cam, we have to run.”
“You’re safe; you’re with us now. They can’t hurt you, Morrey!”
But instead of calming down, his fear triples. Morrey’s grip on me tightens as his head whips back and forth, taking stock of Farley’s soldiers. “Do they know what you are? Cam, do they know?”
Shame bleeds into confusion. I push back from him a little, to get a better look at his face. He breathes heavily. “What I am?”
“They’ll kill you for it. The Scarlet Guard will kill you for what you are.”
Each word hits me like a hammer. And then I realize my brother isn’t the only one still afraid. The rest of his unit, the other teenagers, cluster together for safety, every one of them keeping clear of the Guard soldiers. Farley meets my eye from a few feet away, just as puzzled as I am.
Then I see her from my brother’s point of view. See them all for what he’s been told to see.
Terrorists. Murderers. The reason they were conscripted in the first place.
I try to pull Morrey into a hug, try to whisper an explanation.
He just goes cold in my arms. “You’re one of them,” he spits, looking at me with so much anger and accusation my knees buckle. “You’re Scarlet Guard.”
My soul fills with dread.
Maven took Mare’s brother.
Did he take mine too?
SIXTEEN
Mare