striking
back. How my brother can protect me from the twisted new king, even
though he is like me, even though he’s the fastest thing I’ve ever seen,
I do not know. But I must believe, even if it seems a miracle. After all,
I have seen so many impossible things. Another escape will be the least
of them.
The click and slide of gun barrels echo down the train as the Guard
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makes ready. Kilorn shifts to stand over me, swaying slightly, his grip
tight on the rifle slung across his chest. He glances down, his expres-
sion soft. He tries to smirk, to make me laugh, but his bright green eyes
are grave and afraid.
In contrast, Cal sits quietly, almost peaceful. Though he has the
most to fear—chained, surrounded by enemies, hunted by his own
brother—he looks serene. I’m not surprised. He’s a soldier born and
bred. War is something he understands, and we are certainly at war
now.
“I hope you don’t plan to fight,” he says, speaking for the first time
in many long minutes. His eyes are on me, but his words bite at Farley.
“I hope you plan to run.”
“Save your breath, Silver.” She squares her shoulders. “I know what
we have to do.”
I can’t stop the words from bursting out. “So does he.” The glare she
turns on me burns, but I’ve dealt with worse. I don’t even flinch. “Cal
knows how they fight, he knows what they’ll do to stop us. Use him.”
How does it feel to be used? He spit those words at me in the prison beneath the Bowl of Bones and it made me want to die. Now it barely
stings.
She doesn’t say anything, and that is enough for Cal.
“They’ll have Snapdragons,” he says grimly.
Kilorn laughs aloud. “Flowers?”
“Airjets,” Cal says, his eyes sparking with distaste. “Orange wings,
silver bodies, single pilot, easy to maneuver, perfect for an urban assault.
They carry four missiles each. Times one squadron, that’s forty-eight
missiles you’re going to have to outrun, plus light ammunition. Can
you handle that?”
He’s met only with silence. No, we can’t.
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“And the Dragons are the least of our worries. They’ll just circle,
defend a perimeter, keep us in place until ground troops arrive.”
He lowers his eyes, thinking quickly. He’s wondering what he
would do, if he were on the other side of this. If he were king instead
of Maven. “They’ll surround us and present terms. Mare and I for your
escape.”
Another sacrifice. Slowly, I suck in a breath. This morning, yes-
terday, before all this madness, I would have been glad to give myself
over to save just Kilorn and my brother. But now . . . now I know I am
special. Now I have others to protect. Now I cannot be lost.
“We can’t agree to that,” I say. A bitter truth. Kilorn’s gaze weighs
heavy, but I don’t look up. I can’t stomach his judgment.
Cal is not so harsh. He nods, agreeing with me. “The king doesn’t
expect us to give in,” he replies. “The jets will bring the ruins down on
us, and the rest will mop up the survivors. It will be little more than a
massacre.”
Farley is a creature of pride, even now when she’s terribly cornered.
“What do you suggest?” she asks, bending over him. Her words drip
disdain. “Total surrender?”
Something like disgust crosses Cal’s face. “Maven will still kill you.
In a cell or on the battlefield, he won’t let any of us live.”
“Then better we die fighting.” Kilorn’s voice sounds stronger than
it should, but there’s a tremble in his fingers. He looks like the rest of
the rebels, willing to do anything for the cause, but my friend is still
afraid. Still a boy, no more than eighteen, with too much to live for,
and too little reason to die.
Cal scoffs at Kilorn’s forced but brazen declaration, yet he doesn’t
saying anything else. He knows a more graphic description of our
impending death won’t help anyone.
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Farley doesn’t share his sentiment and waves a hand, dismissing
both of them outright. Behind me, my brother mirrors her determi-
nation.
They know something we don’t, something they won’t say yet.
Maven has taught us all the price of trust misplaced.
“We are not the ones who die today,” is all she says, before march-
ing toward the front of the train. Her boots sound like hammer falls on
the metal flooring, each one smacking of stubborn resolve.
I sense the train slow before I feel it. The electricity wanes, weaken-
ing, as we
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