Glass Sword (5 page)

“What have you heard?” Kilorn asks, shifting so that his body blocks Shade entirely. To anyone else, it looks like we’re adjusting his bandages.

“We’re headed to another base, this time off the coast. Outside Nortan territory.”

I strain to remember Julian’s old map, but I can’t think of much more than the coastline. “An island?”

Shade nods. “Called Tuck. It must not be much, because the Silvers don’t even have an outpost there. They’ve all but forgotten it.”

Dread pools in my stomach. The prospect of isolating myself on an island with no means of escape scares me even more than the mersive. “But they know it exists. That’s enough.”

“Farley seemed confident in the base there.”

Kilorn scoffs aloud. “I remember her thinking Naercey was safe too.”

“It wasn’t her fault we lost Naercey,” I say.
It’s mine.

“Maven tricked everyone, Mare,” Kilorn replies, nudging my shoulder. “He got past me, you,
and
Farley. We all believed in him.”

With his mother to coach him, to read our minds and mold Maven to our hopes, it’s no wonder we were all fooled. And now he is king. Now he will fool—and control—our whole world.
What a world that will be, with a monster for its king, and his mother holding his leash.

But I push through such thoughts. They can wait. “Did Farley say anything else? What about the list? She still has it, doesn’t she?”

Shade watches her over my shoulder, careful to keep his voice low. “She does, but she’s more concerned with the
others
we’re meeting in Tuck, Mom and Dad included.” A rush of warmth spreads through me, an invigorating curl of happiness. Shade brightens at the sight of my small but genuine smile, and he takes my hand. “Gisa too, and the lumps we call brothers.”

A cord of tension releases in my chest but is soon replaced by another. I tighten my grip on him, one eyebrow raised in question. “
Others?
Who? How can that be?” After the massacre beneath Caesar’s Square and the evacuation of Naercey, I didn’t think anyone else existed.

But Kilorn and Shade don’t share my confusion, electing to exchange furtive glances instead. Yet again, I’m in the dark, and I don’t like it one bit. But this time, it’s my own brother and best friend keeping secrets, not an evil queen and scheming prince.

Somehow, this hurts more. Scowling, I glare at them both until they realize I’m waiting for answers.

Kilorn grits his teeth and has the good sense to look apologetic. He gestures to Shade.
Passing the blame
. “You know more than I do.”

“The Guard likes to play things close to the chest, and rightfully
so.” Shade adjusts himself, sitting up a little more. He hisses at the motion, clutching at his wounded shoulder, but waves me off before I can help him. “We want to look small, broken, disorganized—”

I can’t help but snort, eyeing his bandages. “Well, you’re doing a terrific job.”

“Don’t be cruel, Mare,” Shade snaps back, sounding very much like our mother. “I’m trying to tell you that things aren’t so bad as they seem. Naercey was not our only stronghold and Farley is not our only leader. In fact, she’s not even true Command. She’s just a captain. There are others like her—and even more above her.”

Judging by the way she orders around her soldiers, I would think Farley was an empress. When I chance another glance at her, she’s busy redoing a bandage, all while scolding the nurse who originally set the wound. But my brother’s conviction can’t be ignored. He knows much more than I do about the Scarlet Guard, and I’m inclined to believe what he says about them is true. There’s more to this organization than what I see here. It’s encouraging—and frightening.

“The Silvers think they’re two steps ahead of us, but they don’t even know where we stand,” Shade continues, his voice full of fervor. “We seem weak because we want to.”

I turn back quickly. “Maven tricked you, trapped you, slaughtered you, and ran you out of your own house. Or are you going to try and tell me that was all part of another plan?”

“Mare—” Kilorn mumbles, putting his shoulder against mine in a display of comfort. But I shove him away. He needs to hear this too.

“I don’t care how many secret tunnels and boats and bases you have. You’re not going to win against him, not like this.” Tears I didn’t know I still had sting my eyes, prickling at Maven’s memory. It’s hard to
forget him as he was.
No.
As he pretended to be. The kind, forgotten boy. The shadow of the flame.

“Then what do you suggest, lightning girl?”

Farley’s voice shocks through me like my own sparks, setting every nerve on edge. For a brief, blistering second, I stare at my hands knotted in Shade’s sheets. Maybe she’ll leave if I don’t turn around. Maybe she’ll let me be.

Don’t be such a fool, Mare Barrow.

“Fight fire with fire,” I tell her as I stand. Her height used to intimidate me. Now glaring up at her feels natural and familiar.

“Is that some kind of Silver joke?” she sneers, crossing her arms.

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

She doesn’t reply, and that’s answer enough. In her silence, I realize the rest of the compartment has gone quiet. Even the injured stifle their pain to watch the lightning girl challenge their captain.

“You thrive on looking weak and striking hard, yes? Well, they do everything they can to look strong, to seem invincible. But in the arena, I proved they are not.”
Again, stronger, so everyone can hear you.
I call on the firm voice Lady Blonos brought to life in me. “They are
not
invincible.”

Farley isn’t stupid and finds it easy to follow my train of thought. “You’re stronger than they are,” she says, matter-of-fact. Her eyes stray to Shade, lying tense in his bunk. “And you’re not the only one who is.”

I nod sharply, pleased that she already knows what I want. “Hundreds of names, hundreds of Reds with abilities. Stronger, faster, better than they are, with blood as Red as the dawn.” My breath catches, as if it knows it stands on the edge of the future. “Maven will try to kill them, but if we get to them first, they could be—”

“The greatest army this world has ever seen.” Farley’s eyes glass at
the thought. “An army of newbloods.”

When she smiles, her scar strains against its stitches, threatening to split open again. Her grin widens. She doesn’t mind the pain.

But I certainly do. I suppose I always will.

F
arley’s not as tall
as Kilorn, but her steps are faster, more deliberate, and harder to keep up with. I do my best, almost jogging to match her pace through the mersive corridor. Like before, the Guardsmen jump out of our way, but now they salute her as we pass, clasping hands to their chest or fingers to their brow. I must say Farley cuts an impressive figure, wearing her scars and wounds like jewels. She doesn’t seem to mind the blood on her shift, absently wiping her hands against it. Some of it belongs to Shade. She dug the bullet out of his shoulder without blinking.

“We didn’t lock him up, if that’s what you think,” she says lightly, as if talk of imprisoning Cal is casual gossip.

I’m not stupid enough to rise to that bait, not now. She’s feeling me out, testing my reaction, my
allegiance
. But I’m no longer the girl who begged for her help. I’m not so easily read anymore. I’ve lived on a razor wire, balancing lie after lie, hiding myself. It’s nothing to do the same now and bury my thoughts deep down.

So I laugh instead, pasting on the smile I perfected in Elara’s court.
“I can tell. Nothing’s been melted,” I reply, gesturing to the metal walls.

I read her as she tries to read me. She masks her expression well, but surprise still flickers in her eyes. Surprise and
curiosity
.

I haven’t forgotten the way she treated Cal on the train—with shackles, armed guards, and disdain. And he took it like a kicked dog. After his brother’s betrayal and his father’s murder, he had no fight inside him. I didn’t blame him. But Farley doesn’t know his heart—or his strength—like I do. She doesn’t know how dangerous he really is.
Or how dangerous I am, for that matter.
Even now, despite my many injuries, I feel power deep inside, calling out to the electricity pulsing through the mersive. I could control it if I wanted. I could shut this whole thing down. I could drown us all. The lethal idea makes me blush, embarrassed by such thoughts. But they are a comfort all the same. I’m the greatest weapon of all on a ship full of warriors, and they don’t seem to know it.

We seem weak because we want to.
Shade was talking about the Guard when he said that, explaining their motives. Now I wonder if he wasn’t also trying to convey a message. Like words hidden in a letter long ago.

Cal’s bunk room is at the far end of the mersive, tucked away from the bustle of the rest of the vessel. His door is nearly hidden behind a twist of pipes and empty crates stamped with
Archeon,
Haven, Corvium, Harbor Bay,
Delphie
, and even
Belleum
from Piedmont to the south. What the crates once held, I can’t say, but the names of the Silver cities send a twinge down my spine.
Stolen
. Farley notices me staring at the crates but doesn’t bother to explain. Despite our shaky agreement over what she calls “newbloods,” I still haven’t entered her inner circle of secrets. I suppose Cal has something to do with that.

Whatever powers the ship, a massive generator by the feel of it, rumbles beneath my feet, vibrating into my bones. I wrinkle my nose
in distaste. Farley might not have locked Cal up, but she’s certainly not being kind either. Between the noise and the shaking sensation, I wonder if Cal was able to sleep at all.

“I suppose this is the only place you could put him?” I ask, glaring at the cramped corner.

She shrugs, banging a hand on his door. “The prince hasn’t complained.”

We don’t wait long, though I’d very much like the time to collect myself. Instead, the wheel lock spins in seconds, clanking round at great speed. The iron hinges grate, screaming, and Cal pulls open the door.

I’m not surprised to see him standing tall, ignoring his own aches. After a lifetime preparing to be a warrior, he’s used to cuts and bruises. But the scars within are something he doesn’t know how to hide. He avoids my gaze, focusing on Farley, who doesn’t notice or doesn’t care about the prince with a shattered heart. Suddenly my wounds seem a bit easier to bear.

“Captain Farley,” he says, as if she’s disturbed him at dinnertime. He uses annoyance to mask his pain.

Farley won’t stand for it and tosses her short hair with a sniff. She even reaches to close the door. “Oh, did you not want a visitor? How rude of me.”

I’m quietly glad I didn’t let Kilorn tag along. He’d be even worse to Cal, having hated him since they first met back in the Stilts.

“Farley,” I tell her through gritted teeth. My hand stops the door short. To my delight—and distaste—she flinches away from my touch. She flushes horribly, embarrassed with herself and her fear. Despite her tough exterior, she’s just like her soldiers. Afraid of the lightning girl. “I think we’re fine from here.”

Something twitches in her face, a twinge of irritation as much with
herself as with me. But she nods, grateful to be out of my presence. With one last daggered glance at Cal, she turns and disappears back down the corridor. Her barked orders echo for a moment, indecipherable but strong.

Cal and I stare after her, then at the walls, then at the floor, then at our feet, afraid to look at each other. Afraid to remember the last few days. The last time we watched each other across a doorway, dancing lessons and a stolen kiss followed. That might as well be another life.
Because it was. He danced with Mareena, the lost princess, and Mareena is dead.

But her memories remain. When I walk past, my shoulder brushing one firm arm, I remember the feel and smell and taste of him. Heat and wood smoke and sunrise, but no longer. Cal smells like blood, his skin is ice, and I tell myself I don’t want to taste him ever again.

“They’ve been treating you well?” I speak first, reaching for an easy topic. One glance around his small yet clean compartment is answer enough, but I might as well fill the silence.

“Yes,” he says, still hovering by the open door. Debating whether to shut it.

My eyes land on a panel in the wall, pried back to reveal a tangle of wires and switches beneath. I can’t help but smile softly. Cal’s been tinkering.

“You think that’s smart? One wrong wire . . .”

That draws a weak but still comforting smile from him. “I’ve been fooling with circuitry for half my life. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

Both of us ignore the double meaning, letting it slide past.

He finally decides to shut the door, though he leaves it unlocked. One hand rests on the metal wall, fingers splayed, looking for something to hold on to. The flame-maker bracelet still winks on his wrist,
bright silver against dull, hard gray. He notes my gaze and pulls down one stained sleeve; I guess no one thought to give him a change of clothes.

“As long as I stay out of sight, I don’t think anyone will bother with me,” he says, and goes back to fiddling with the open panel. “It’s kind of nice.” But the joke is hollow.

“I’ll make sure it stays that way. If that’s what you want,” I add quickly. In truth, I have no idea what Cal wants now.
Beyond vengeance. The one thing we still have in common.

He quirks an eyebrow at me, almost amused. “Oh, is the lightning girl in charge now?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond to the jibe, closing the distance between us in a single long step. “I get the feeling you’re just as cornered as me.” His eyes narrow. “Only you don’t seem to know it.”

I flush, feeling angry—and embarrassed. “Cornered? I’m not the one hiding in a closet.”

“No, you’re too busy being put on parade.” He leans forward, and the familiar heat between us returns.
“Again.”

Part of me wants to slap him. “My brother would
never
—”

“I thought my brother would
never
, and look where that got us!” he thunders, throwing his arms wide. The tips of his fingers touch either wall, scraping up against the prison he’s found himself in.
The prison I put him in.
And he’s caged me in with him, whether he knows it or not.

Blazing heat flares from his body, and I have to step back a little. He doesn’t miss the action and deflates, letting his eyes and arms drop. “Sorry,” he bites out, brushing a lock of black hair off his forehead.

“Never apologize to me. I don’t deserve it.”

He glances at me sidelong, his eyes dark and wide, but he doesn’t argue.

Heaving a breath, I lean back against the far wall. The space between us gapes like open jaws. “What do you know about a place called Tuck?”

Grateful for the change in conversation, he pulls himself together, retreating into a prince’s persona. Even without a crown, he seems regal, with perfect posture and his hands folded behind his back. “Tuck?” he repeats, thinking hard. A crease forms between his thick, dark brows. The longer it takes him to speak, the better I feel. If he doesn’t know about the island, then few else will. “Is that where we’re going?”

“It is.”
I think.
A cold thought ripples through me, remembering Julian’s lessons hard learned in the court and the arena.
Anyone can betray anyone.
“According to Shade.”

Cal lets my uncertainty hang in the air, kind enough not to prod at it. “I think it’s an island,” he finally says. “One of several off the coast. It’s not Nortan territory. Nothing to warrant a settlement or base, not even for defense. It’s just open ocean out there.”

A bit of the weight on my shoulders lifts. We’ll be safe for now. “Good, good.”

“Your brother, he’s like you.” It’s not a question. “Different.”

“He is.” What else is there to say?

“And he’s all right? I remember he was injured.”

Even without an army, Cal is still a general, caring for the soldiers and the wounded. “He’s fine, thank you. Took a few bullets for me, but he’s recovering well.”

At the mention of bullets, Cal’s eyes flicker over me, finally allowing himself to look at me fully. He lingers on my scraped face and the dried blood around my ears. “And you?”

“I’ve had worse.”

“Yes, we have.”

We lapse into silence, not daring to speak further. But we still continue to stare at each other. Suddenly his presence is difficult to stand. And yet I don’t want to go.

The mersive has other ideas.

Beneath my feet, the generator shudders, its pounding pulse changing rhythm. “We’re almost there,” I mutter, sensing electricity flow or ebb to different parts of the craft.

Cal doesn’t feel it yet, unable to, but he doesn’t question my instincts. He knows my abilities firsthand, better than anyone on the ship. Better than my own family. For now, at least. Mom, Dad, Gisa, the boys, they’re waiting for me on the island. I’ll see them soon. They’re here. They’re
safe
.

But how long I’ll be with them, I don’t know. I won’t be able to stay on the island, not if I want to do something for the newbloods. I’ll have to go back to Norta, use whatever and whoever Farley can give me, to try and find them. It already seems impossible. I don’t even want to think about it. And yet my mind buzzes, trying to form a plan.

An alarm sounds overhead, synchronizing with a yellow light that starts to flash over Cal’s door. “Amazing,” I hear him mutter, distracted for a moment by the great machine all around us. I don’t doubt he wanted to explore, but there’s no room for the inquisitive prince here. The boy who buried himself in manuals and built cycles from scratch has no place in this world.
I killed him, just as I killed Mareena.

Despite Cal’s mechanically inclined mind and my own electrical sense, we have no idea what comes next. When the mersive angles, nosing up out of the depths of the ocean, the whole room tips. The surprise of it knocks us both off our feet. We collide with the wall and each other. Our wounds bang together, drawing pained hisses from us both. The feel of him hurts more than anything else, a deep stab of memory,
and I scramble away quickly.

Wincing, I rub one of my many bruises. “Where’s Sara Skonos when you need her,” I grumble, wishing for the skin healer who could mend us both. She could chase away the aches with a single touch, returning us both to fighting form.

More pain crosses Cal’s face, but not from his injuries.
Well done, Mare
.
Wonderful job, bringing up the woman who knew his mother was murdered by the queen. The woman no one believed.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

He waves me off and finds his feet, one arm pressed against the wall for balance. “It’s fine. She’s—” The words are thick, stilted. “I chose not to listen to her. I didn’t
want
to listen. That was my fault.”

I met Sara Skonos only once, when Evangeline almost exposed me to our entire training session. Julian summoned her—Julian, who
loved
her—and watched as she mended my bloody face and bruised back. Her eyes were sad, her cheeks hollow, her tongue missing entirely. Taken for words spoken against the queen, for a truth no one believed.
Elara killed Cal’s mother, Coriane the Singer Queen. Julian’s own sister, Sara’s best friend. And no one seemed to mind. It was so much easier to look away.

Maven was there too, hating Sara with every breath. I know now that was a crack in his shield, revealing who he truly was beneath practiced words and gentle smiles. Like Cal, I didn’t see what was right in front of me.

Like Julian, she is probably dead already.

Suddenly the metal walls and the noise and the popping of my ears are too much.

“I need to get off this thing.”

Despite the strange angle of the room and the persistent ringing in my head, my feet know what to do. They have not forgotten the mud of the Stilts, the nights spent in alleys, or the obstacle courses of Training.
I wrench the door open, gasping for breath like a girl drowned. But the stale, filtered air of the mersive offers me no respite. I need the smell of trees, water, spring rains, even summer heat or winter snow.
Something
to remind me of the world beyond this suffocating tin can.

Cal gives me a head start before following, his footsteps heavy and slow behind me. He’s not trying to catch up, but give me space. If only Kilorn could do the same.

He approaches from farther down the corridor, using handholds and wheel locks to ease himself down the angled craft. His smile fades at the sight of Cal, replaced not by a scowl but by cold indifference. I suppose he thinks ignoring the prince will anger him more than outright hostility. Or perhaps Kilorn doesn’t want to test a human flamethrower in such close quarters.