Red Queen (40 page)

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.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

TWENTY-SIX

I can barely keep
up the pace but the soldier at my back, holding my shackled arms, keeps shoving. Another does the same to Maven, forcing him along with me. Arven follows us, making sure we can’t escape. His presence is a dark weight, dulling my senses. I can still see the passage around us, empty and far from the prying eyes of the court, but I don’t have the strength to care. Cal leads the pack, his shoulders tense and tight as he fights the urge to look back.

The sound of gunfire and screams and blood in the tunnels rumbles in my mind.
They are dead. We are dead. It is over.

I expect us to descend, to march down to the darkest cell in the world. Instead, Cal leads us up, to a room with no windows and no Sentinels. Our footfalls don’t even echo as we enter—soundproof. In here, no one can hear us. And that frightens me more than the guns or the fire or the pure rage rippling off the king.

He stands in the center of the room, dressed in his own gilded armor with the crown on his head. His ceremonial sword hangs at his side again, along with a pistol he’s probably never used.
All part of the pageant. At least he looks the part.

The queen is here as well, waiting for us in nothing but a thin white gown. The moment we enter, her eyes meet mine and she forces her way into my thoughts like a knife through flesh. I yelp, trying to clutch my head, but the shackles hold firm.

It all flashes before my eyes again, from the beginning to the end. Will’s wagon. The Guard. Kilorn. The riots, the meetings, the secret messages. Maven’s face swirls in the memories, making him stand out against the fray, but Elara pushes him.
She doesn’t want to see what I remember about him.
My brain screams at the onslaught, jumping from thought to thought until my whole life, every kiss and every secret, is laid bare before her.

When she stops, I feel dead. I want to
be
dead.
At least I won’t have long to wait.

“Leave us,” Elara says, her voice cutting and sharp. The soldiers wait, looking to Cal. When he nods, they take their leave, departing in a din of clicking boots. But Arven stays behind, his influence still pressing down on me. When the march of boots fades away, the king allows himself to exhale.

“Son?” He looks at Cal, and I can see the slightest quiver in his fingers. But what he could possibly fear, I do not know. “I want to hear this from you.”

“They’ve been part of this for a long time,” Cal mutters, barely able to say the words. “Since she came here.”

“Both?” Tiberias turns away from Cal, to his forgotten son. He looks almost sad, his face pulling into a pained frown. His eyes waver, reluctant to hold his gaze, but Maven stares right back.
He will not flinch.
“You knew about this, my boy?”

Maven nods. “I helped plan it.”

Tiberias stumbles, like his words are a physical blow. “And the shooting?”

“I chose the targets.” Cal squeezes his eyes shut, like he can block this all out.

Maven’s eyes slide past his father, to Elara, who stands close by. They hold each other’s gaze, and for a moment, I think she’s looking into his thoughts. With a jolt, I realize she won’t.
She can’t let herself look.

“You told me to find a cause, Father. And I did. Are you proud of me?”

But Tiberias rounds on me instead, snarling like a bear. “You did this! You poisoned him, you poisoned my boy!” When tears spring to his eyes, I know the king’s heart, no matter how small or cold, has been broken.
He loves Maven, in his own way. But it’s too late for that.
“You’ve taken my son from me!”

“You have done that yourself,” I say through gritted teeth. “Maven has his own heart, and he believes in a different world as much as I do. If anything, your son changed me.”

“I don’t believe you. You have tricked him somehow.”

“She does not lie.”

Hearing Elara agree with me rips my breath away.

“Our son has always thirsted for change.” Her eyes linger on her son. She sounds
afraid.
“He is just a boy, Tiberias.”

Save him
, I scream out in my head. She must hear me.
She must
.