Then it’s four o’clock in the morning and I have no more time for dreams.
The cameras fall like trees before the ax, each little eye clicking off as I walk to Maven’s room. I jump at every shadow, expecting an officer or a Sentinel to step out into the hall, but no one does. They protect Cal and the king, not me, not the second prince. We don’t matter. But we will.
Maven opens his door a second after I jiggle the handle, his face pale in the darkness. There are circles beneath his eyes, like he hasn’t slept at all, but he looks sharp as ever. I expect him to take my arm, to envelop me in his warmth, but there’s nothing but cold dripping off him. He’s afraid, I realize.
We’re outside in a few agonizing minutes, walking in the shadows behind War Command to wait at our place between the structure and the outer wall. Our spot is perfect; we’re able to see the Square and the Bridge, with most of War Command’s gilded roof blocking us from the patrols. I don’t need a clock to know we’re right on time.
Above us, the night fades, giving way to dark blue. The dawn is coming.
At this hour, the city is quieter than I ever thought possible. Even the patrol guards are drowsy, slowly moving from post to post. Excitement trills through me, making my legs shake. Somehow, Maven keeps still, barely even blinking. He stares through the diamondglass wall, always watching the Bridge. His focus is staggering.
“They’re late,” he whispers, never moving.
“I’m not.”
If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Farley was a shadow, able to shift in and out of visibility. She seems to melt out of the semidarkness, pulling herself up from a drain.
I offer her my hand, but she pushes herself to her feet alone. “Where are the others?”
“Waiting.” She gestures to the ground below.
If I squint, I can just see them, crowded into the drain system, about to retake the surface. I want to climb into the tunnel with them, to stand with Kilorn and my kind, but my place is here, next to Maven.
“Are they armed?” Maven’s lips barely move. “Are they ready to fight?”
Farley nods. “Always. But I’m not calling them out until you’re sure the Square is ours. I don’t put much faith in Lady Barrow’s ability to charm.”
Neither do I, but I can’t say that out loud. He will always choose you. I’ve never wanted anything to be right and yet wrong at the same time.
“Kilorn wanted you to have this,” she adds, holding out her hand. In it is a tiny green stone, the color of his eyes. An earring. “He said you’d know what it means.”
I choke on my words, feeling a great surge of emotion. Nodding, I take the earring from her and raise it to the others. Bree, Tramy, Shade—I know each stone and what they mean. Kilorn is a warrior now. And he wants me to remember him as he was. Laughing, teasing me, sniffing around like a lost puppy. I will never forget that.
The sharp metal stings, drawing blood. When I pull my hand back from my ear, I can see the crimson stain on my fingers. This is who you are.
I look back to the tunnel, hoping to see his green eyes, but the darkness seems to swallow the tunnel whole, hiding him and all the others.
“Are you ready for this?” Farley breathes, looking between us both.
Maven answers for me, his voice firm. “We are.”
But Farley isn’t satisfied. “Mare?”
“I’m ready.”
The revolutionary takes a calming breath before tapping her foot against the side of the drain. One, twice, three times. Together, we turn to the Bridge, waiting for the world to change.
There’s no traffic at this hour, not even the whisper of a transport. The shops are closed, the plazas empty. With any luck, the only thing lost tonight will be concrete and steel. The last section of the Bridge, the one connecting West Archeon to the rest of the city, seems serene.
And then it explodes in bright plumes of orange and red, a sun to split the silver darkness. Heat surges, but not from the bombs—it’s Maven. The explosion sparks something in him, lighting his flame.
The sound rumbles, almost knocking me off my feet, and the river below churns as the end section of the Bridge collapses. It groans and shudders like a dying beast, crumbling in on itself as it detaches from the bank and the rest of the structure. Concrete pillars and steel wire crack and snap, splashing into the water or against the bank. A cloud of dust and smoke rises, cutting off the rest of Archeon from view. Before the Bridge even hits the water, alarms sound over the Square.
Above us, patrols run along the wall, eager to get a good look at the destruction. They shout to each other, not knowing what to make of this. Most can only stare. In the barracks, lights switch on and soldiers stir, all five thousand of them jumping out of bed. Cal’s soldiers. Cal’s legion. And with any luck, ours.
I can’t tear my eyes away from the flame and smoke, but Maven does it for me. “There he is,” he hisses, pointing to some dark shapes running from the palace.
He has his own guards, but Cal outstrips them all, sprinting for the barracks. He’s still in his nightclothes, but he’s never looked so fearsome. As soldiers and officers spill out into the Square, he barks orders, somehow making himself heard over the growing crowd. “Guns on the gates! Put nymphs on the other side, we don’t want the fire spreading!”
His men carry out the orders with speed, jumping at his every word. Legions obey their generals.
Behind us, Farley presses herself back against the wall, inching closer to her drain. She’ll turn and run at the first sign of trouble, disappearing to fight another day. That won’t happen. This will work.
Maven moves to go first, to wave down his brother, but I push him back.
“I have to do it,” I whisper, feeling a strange sort of calm come over me. He will always choose you.
I’m past the point of no return when I step into the Square, into full view of the legion and the patrols and Cal. Spotlights blaze to life on the tops of the walls, some pointed at the Bridge, others down on us. One seems to go right through me and I have to raise a hand to shield my eyes.
“Cal!” I scream over the deafening sound of five thousand soldiers. Somehow, he hears me, his head snapping in my direction. We lock eyes through the mass of soldiers falling into their practiced lines and regiments.
When he moves toward me, pushing through the sea, I think I might faint. Suddenly all I can hear is my heartbeat pounding in my ears, drowning out the alarms and the screams. I am afraid. So very afraid. This is just Cal, I tell myself. The boy who loves music and cycles. Not the soldier, not the general, not the prince. The boy. He will always choose you.
“Go back inside, now!” He towers over me, using the stern, regal voice that could make a mountain bow. “Mare, it’s not safe—!”
With strength I never knew I had, I grab onto the collar of his shirt and somehow it keeps him still. “What if that was the cost?” I toss a glance back to the broken Bridge, now shrouded in smoke and ash. “Nothing but a few tons of concrete. What if I told you that right here, right now, you could fix everything. You could save us.”
By the flicker in his eyes, I can see I have his attention. “Don’t,” he protests weakly, one hand grabbing mine. There’s fear in his eyes, more fear than I’ve ever seen.
“You said you believed in us once, in freedom. In equality. You can make that real, with one word. There won’t be a war. No one will die.” He seems frozen by my words, not daring to breathe. Even I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but I press on. I must make him understand. “You hold the power right now. This army is yours, this whole place is yours to take and—and to free! March into the palace, make your father kneel, and do what you know is right. Please, Cal!”
I can feel him beneath my hands, his breath coming in quick pants, and nothing has ever felt so real or so important. I know what he’s thinking about—his kingdom, his duty, his father. And me, the lightning girl, asking him to throw it all away. Something deep down tells me he will.
Shaking, I press a kiss to his lips. He will choose me. His skin feels cold under mine, like a corpse.
“Choose me,” I breathe against him. “Choose a new world. Make a better world. The soldiers will obey you. Your father will obey you.” My heart clenches and every muscle tightens, waiting for his answer. The spotlight on us flickers under my strength, switching on and off with every heartbeat. “It was my blood in the cells. I helped the Guard escape. And soon everyone will know—and they will kill me. Don’t let them. Save me.”
The words stir him and his grip on my wrist tightens.
“It was always you.”
He will always choose you.
“Greet the new dawn, Cal. With me. With us.”
His eyes shift to Maven now walking toward us. The brothers lock eyes, speaking in a way I don’t understand. He will choose us.
“It was always you,” he says again, ragged and ruined this time. His voice carries the pain of a thousand deaths, a thousand betrayals. Anyone can betray anyone, I remember. “The escape, the shooting, the power outages. It all started with you.”
I try to explain, still pulling back. But he has no intention of letting me go.
“How many people have you killed with your dawn? How many children, how many innocents?” His hand grows hot, hot enough to burn. “How many people have you betrayed?”
My knees buckle, dropping out from under me, but Cal doesn’t let go. Dimly, I hear Maven yelling somewhere, the prince charging in to save his princess. But I’m not a princess. I’m not the girl who gets saved. As the fire rises in Cal, flaming behind his eyes, the lightning streaks through me, fed by anger. It shocks between us, throwing me back from Cal. My mind buzzes, clouded by sorrow and anger and electricity.
Behind me, Maven yells. I turn just in time to see him shouting back at Farley, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Run! Run!”
Cal jumps to his feet faster than me, shouting something to his soldiers. His eyes follow Maven’s call, connecting the dots as only a general can. “The drains!” he roars, still staring at me. “They’re in the drains.”
Farley’s shadow disappears, trying to escape while gunfire follows her. Soldiers dart over the Square, ripping away grates and drains and pipes, exposing the system beneath. They pour into the tunnels like a terrible flood. I want to cover my ears, to block out the screams and bullets and blood.
Kilorn. His name flutters weakly in my thoughts, no more than a whisper. I can’t think about him long; Cal still stands over me, his whole body shaking. But he doesn’t frighten me. I don’t think anything can scare me now. The worst has happened already. We have lost.
“How many?” I scream back at him, finding the strength to face him. “How many starved? How many murdered? How many children taken away to die? How many, my prince?”
I thought I knew hate before today. I was wrong. About myself, Cal, about everything. The pain makes my head spin but somehow I keep my feet, somehow I keep myself from falling. He will never choose me.
“My brother, Kilorn’s father, Tristan, Walsh!” What feels like a hundred names explode from me, rattling off all the lost ones. They mean nothing to Cal, but everything to me. And I know there are thousands, millions more. A million forgotten wrongs.
Cal doesn’t answer and I expect to see the rage I feel reflected in his eyes. Instead I see nothing but sadness. He whispers again, and the words make me want to fall down and never get up again.
“I wish things were different.”
I expect the sparks, I expect lightning, but it never comes. When I feel cold hands on my neck and metal shackles on my wrists, I know why. Instructor Arven, the silence, the one who can make us human, stands behind me, pushing down all my strength until I’m nothing but a weeping girl again. He’s taken it all away, all the strength and all the power I thought I had. I have lost. When my knees give out this time, there’s no one to hold me up. Dimly, I hear Maven cry out before he too is pushed to the ground.
“Brother!” he roars, trying to make Cal see what he’s doing. “They’ll kill her! They’ll kill me!” But Cal is no longer listening to us. He speaks to one of his captains, and I don’t bother to listen to the words. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.
The ground beneath me seems to shake with every round of gunfire deep below. How much blood will stain the tunnels tonight?
My head is too heavy, my body too weak, and I let myself slump against the tiled ground. It feels cold under my cheek, soothing and smooth. Maven pitches forward, his head landing next to me. I remember a moment like this. Gisa’s scream and the shattering of bones echo faintly, a ghost inside my head.
“Take them inside, to the king. He will judge them both.”
I don’t recognize Cal’s voice anymore. I’ve turned him into a monster. I forced his hand. I made him choose. I was eager, I was stupid. I let myself hope.
I am a fool.
The sun begins to rise behind Cal’s head, framing him against the dawn. It’s too bright, too sharp, and too soon; I have to shut my eyes.