He surprises me when he puts out one incredibly callused hand.
“Good to see you whole,” he says.
“Whole as can be expected.”
That unsettles him. He coughs, looking between the three of us. A precarious place to be for a man who openly fears what we are.
“I’m going to see my family now, Colonel.”
There’s no reason to ask permission. I move to sidestep him, but his hand stops me cold. This time, I fight the gut urge to flinch away. No one else is going to see my fear. Not right now. Instead, I level my eyes on his, and let him realize exactly what he’s doing.
“This isn’t my decision,” the Colonel says firmly. He raises his eyebrows, imploring me to listen. Then he tips his head to the side. Over his shoulder, Rash and Tahir nod at me.
“Miss Barrow—”
“We’ve been instructed—”
“—to escort you—”
“—to your debriefing.”
The twins blink at me in unison, finishing their maddening tandem speech. Like the Colonel, they sweat in the humidity. It makes their matching black beards and ocher skin gleam.
Instead of punching them both, as I wish I could, I take a small step back. Debriefing. The thought of explaining all I’ve been through to some Guard strategist makes me want to scream or storm—or both.
Cal cuts between us, if only to cushion whatever blow I might send their way.
“You’re really going to make her do this now?” His tone of disbelief is undercut with warning. “It can wait.”
The Colonel exhales slowly, the picture of exasperation. “It may seem heartless”—he throws a cutting glare at the Montfort twins—“but you have vital information on our enemies. These are our orders, Barrow.” His voice softens. “I wish they weren’t.”
With a light touch, I push Cal to the side. “I’m—going—to—see—my—family—now!” I shout, speaking back and forth between the insufferable twins. They just scowl.
“How rude,” Rash mutters.
“Quite rude,” Tahir mutters back.
Cameron conceals a low laugh as a cough. “Don’t tempt her,” she warns. “I’ll look the other way if lightning strikes.”
“The orders can wait,” Cal adds, using all of his military training to seem commanding, even if he has little authority here. The Scarlet Guard sees him as a weapon, nothing more. I know because I used to see him the same way.
The twins don’t budge. Rash blusters, drawing himself up like a bird fluffing its feathers. “Certainly you have as much motive as anyone to aid in King Maven’s downfall?”
“Certainly you know the best ways to defeat him?” Tahir carries on.
They’re not wrong. I’ve seen Maven’s deepest wounds and darkest parts. Where to hit him to make him bleed most. But in this moment, with everyone I love so close, I can barely see straight. Right now, if someone chained Maven to the ground in front of me, I wouldn’t stop to kick him in the teeth.
“I don’t care who’s holding your leash, any of you.” I step neatly around them both. “Tell your master to wait.”
The brothers trade glances. They speak in each other’s thoughts, debating. I would walk away if I knew where to go, but I’m hopelessly adrift.
My mind already races ahead, to Mom, Dad, Gisa, Tramy, and Bree. I picture them holed up in another barracks, squeezed into a dormitory room smaller than our stilt house. Mom’s bad cooking stinking up the space. Dad’s chair, Gisa’s scraps. It makes my heart ache.
“I’ll find them myself,” I hiss, intending to leave the twins behind for good.
Instead, Rash and Tahir bow back, waving me on. “Very well—”
“Your debriefing is in the morning, Miss Barrow.”
“Colonel, if you would escort her to—”
“Yes,” the Colonel says sharply, cutting them both off. I’m grateful for his hastiness. “Follow me, Mare.”
The Piedmont base is much larger than Tuck, judging by the size of the landing field. In the dark it’s hard to tell, but it reminds me more of Fort Patriot, the Nortan military headquarters in Harbor Bay. The hangars are larger, the aircraft numbering in the dozens. Instead of walking to wherever we’re going, the Colonel’s men drive us in an open-topped transport. Like some of the jets, its sides are striped yellow and white. Tuck I could understand. An abandoned base, out of sight, out of mind, was probably easy for the Scarlet Guard to take. But this is none of those things.
“Where’s Kilorn?” I mumble under my breath, nudging Cal beside me.
“With your family, I assume. He bounced between them and the newbloods most of the time.”
Because he has no family of his own.
I drop my voice lower, to save the Colonel any offense. “And Farley?”
Cameron leans around Cal, her eyes oddly kind. “She’s in the hospital, but don’t worry. She didn’t go to Archeon; she isn’t injured. You’ll see her soon.” She blinks rapidly, selecting her words with care. “You two will have . . . things to talk about.”
“Good.”
The warm air tugs at me with sticky fingers, tangling my hair. I can barely sit still in my seat, too excited and nervous. When I was taken, Shade had just died—because of me. I wouldn’t blame anyone, including Farley, if they hated me for it. Time doesn’t always heal wounds. Once in a while, it makes them worse.
Cal keeps a hand on my leg, a firm weight as a reminder of his presence. Next to me, his eyes whip back and forth, noting every turn of the transport. I should do the same. The Piedmont base is unfamiliar ground. But I can’t bring myself to do much more than chew my lip and hope. My nerves buzz, but not from electricity. When we make a right, turning in to a network of cheery brick row houses, I feel like I might explode.
“Officers’ quarters,” Cal mutters under his breath. “This is a royal base. Government funded. There’s only a few Piedmont bases of this size.”
His tone tells me he wonders as I do. Then how are we here?
We slow in front of the only house with every window ablaze. Without thought, I vault over the side of the transport, almost tripping over the rags of my dress. My vision narrows to the path in front of me. Gravel walk, flagstone steps. The ripples of movement behind curtained windows. I hear only my heartbeat, and the creak of an opening door.
Mom reaches me first, outstripping both my long-limbed brothers. The collision almost knocks the air from my lungs, and her resulting hug actually does. I don’t mind. She could break every bone in my body and I wouldn’t mind.
Bree and Tramy half carry both of us up the steps and into the row house. They’re shouting something while Mom whispers in my ear. I hear none of it. Happiness and joy overwhelm every sense. I’ve never felt anything like it.
My knees brush against a rug and Mom kneels with me in the middle of the large foyer. She keeps kissing my face, alternating cheeks so quickly I think they might bruise. Gisa worms in with us, her dark red hair ablaze in the corner of my eye. Like the Colonel, she has a dusting of new freckles, brown spots against golden skin. I tuck her close. She used to be smaller.
Tramy grins over us, sporting a dark, well-kept beard. He was always trying to grow one as a teenager. Never got further than patchy stubble. Bree used to tease him. Not now. He braces himself against my back, thick arms wrapping around Mom and me. His cheeks are wet. With a jolt, I realize mine are too.
“Where’s . . . ?” I ask.
Thankfully, I don’t have time to fear the worst. When he appears, I wonder if I’m hallucinating.
He leans heavy on Kilorn’s arm and a cane. The months have been good to him. Regular meals filled him out. He walks slowly from an adjoining room. Walks. His pace is stilted, unnatural, unfamiliar. My father has not had two legs in years. Or more than one working lung. As he approaches, eyes bright, I listen. No rasp. No click of a machine to help him breathe. No squeak of a rusty old wheelchair. I don’t know what to think or say. I forgot how tall he is.