“The Scarlet Guard.”
“Never heard of the like.”
“Did you see? West Archeon in flames—”
“—but no one was hurt—”
“—they’ll bring more trouble—”
“—worse and worse times—”
“—blaming us for it—”
“I want to find them.”
“Farley.”
The last is a warm breath against the shell of my ear, his voice familiar as my own face. I turn
instinctually and pull Shade into a hug, surprising both of us.
“Good to see you too,” he mutters.
“Let’s get you out of here,” I murmur as I pull back. When I look at him properly, I realize the last
few weeks have not been kind. His face is pale, his expression drawn, and dark circles ring his eyes.
“What happened?”
He tucks my arm in his and I let him lead us through the crowd dutifully walking the market. We
look like anyone. “A transfer, to the Storm Legion, to the front.”
“Punishment?”
But Shade shakes his head. “Not for passing information. They still don’t know I’m the leak or
that I’m bleeding everything to the Guard. No, this order is strange.”
“Strange how?”
“A general’s request. High up. For me, an aide. It makes no sense. Just like something else
doesn’t make any sense.” His eyes narrow pointedly, and I nod. “I think they know, and I think they’re
going to get rid of me.”
I swallow hard and hope he doesn’t notice. My fear for him cannot be construed as anything but
professional. “Then we’ll execute you first, say you ran off and got shot for deserting. Eastree can
falsify the documents like she does with other assets. And besides, it’s high time we moved you
anyways.”
“Do you have any idea where that might be?”
“You’ll be going to Trial, across the border. That shouldn’t be too difficult for someone with your
skills.”
“I’m not invincible. I can’t jump hundreds of miles, or even, well, navigate myself that far. Can
you?” he mumbles.
I have to smile. Crance should work. “I think I can secure you a map and a guide.”
“You’re not coming?” I tell myself I’m imagining the disappointment in his voice.
“I have other business to handle first. Careful,” I add, noting a cluster of officers up ahead.
Shade’s arm tightens on mine, pulling me closer. He’ll jump if he has to, and I’ll get sick all over my
boots again.
“Try not to make me sick this time,” I grumble, drawing his crooked grin.
But there’s no need for his trepidation. The officers are focused elsewhere, on a cracked video
screen, likely the only one in the Red market. Used for official broadcasts, but there isn’t anything
official about what they’re watching.
“Forgot Queenstrial was today,” one of them says, leaning forward to squint at the picture. It blurs
occasionally. “Couldn’t get a better set for us, eh, Marcos?”
Marcos flushes gray, annoyed. “This is Red sector, what did you expect? You’re welcome to go
back to rounds if this doesn’t satisfy!”
Queenstrial. I remember something about the word. In the briefing on Norta, the packet of
cobbled-together information the Colonel made me read before I was sent here. Something about
princes—choosing brides, maybe. I wrinkle my nose at the idea, but somehow I can’t tear my eyes
away from the screen as we get closer and closer.
On it, a girl in black leather demonstrates her storied abilities. Magnetron, I realize as she
manipulates the metal of whatever arena she’s been dropped into.
Then a flash of red drops across the screen, landing hard against the electric shield separating the
magnetron girl from the rest of the Silver elite watching her display.
The officers gasp in unison. One of them even turns away. “I don’t want to see this,” he groans, as
if he’s about to be sick.
Shade is rooted to the spot, his eyes hard on the screen, watching the red blotch. His grip tightens
on me, forcing me to look. The blotch has a face. His sister.
Mare Barrow.
He goes cold against me as the lightning swallows her whole.
“It should have killed her.”
Shade’s hands are shaking and he has to crouch in the alley to keep the rest from following suit. I
drop to my knees next to him, one hand on his shivering arm.
“It should have killed her,” he says again, his eyes wide and hollow.
I don’t need to ask to know he’s replaying the scene in his head, over and over again. His young
sister falling into the Queenstrial arena. To her death under all circumstances. But Mare didn’t die.
She was electrocuted on camera, but she didn’t die.
“She’s alive, Shade,” I tell him, turning his face to mine. “You saw yourself, she got up and ran.”
“How is that possible?”
Now is not the time to appreciate the joke. “I asked you the same thing once.”
“Then she’s different too.” His eyes darken, sliding away from my face. “And she’s with them. I
have to help her.”
He tries to scramble to his feet, but the shock has not worn off. I help him back down as gently as
I can, letting him lean on me.
“They’ll kill her, Diana,” he whispers. His voice breaks my heart. “They could be doing it right
now.”
“Somehow, I don’t think they will. They can’t. Not after everyone saw her, a Red girl surviving
lightning.” They’ll need to explain first. Come up with a story. Just like the stories they used to
cover us until we made sure they couldn’t anymore. “She planted a flag of her own today.”
Suddenly the alley feels too small. Shade levels a glare, one only a soldier could muster. “I won’t
leave my sister there alone.”
“She won’t be. I will make sure of it.”
His eyes harden, mirroring the resolve I feel inside.
“So will I.”
THE FOLLOWING MESSAGE HAS BEEN DECODED
CONFIDENTIAL, COMMAND CLEARANCE REQUIRED
Day 2 of Operation LIGHTNING.
Operative: Captain REDACTED.
Designation: LAMB.
Origin: Summerton, LL.
Destination: COMMAND at REDACTED.
-Op under way. MARE BARROW made contact with WHISTLE WILL and BONES in
ALBANUS, oathed to SG. SHADOW leverage successful.
-Operative MAIDEN will act as her contact within HALL OF THE SUN.
-Operative STEWARD made contact regarding new asset for recruitment inside HALL OF
THE SUN, will explore further.
RISE, RED AS THE DAWN.