I think is the worst.
I can’t possibly see what’s coming.
Only one person could. Jon. He walked away from all this. He let this happen. He didn’t want to warn us. He didn’t care.
Shade appears in front of me, intending to take me away from all this. Instead, he gets a cruel, gleaming needle through his heart. He doesn’t realize what’s happening. He doesn’t feel any pain. He dies before his knees hit the ground.
I don’t remember anything else until we’re in the air. My face runs with tears but I can’t wipe them away. I stare at my hands, painted in both colors of blood.
TWENTY-SEVEN
This is not the Blackrun.
Instead, Cal pilots a massive cargo jet, built to carry heavy transports or machinery. Now the cargo bay holds over three hundred escaped prisoners, many injured, all shell-shocked. Most are newbloods, but there are also Silvers among them, keeping to themselves, biding their time. For today at least, they all look the same, cloaked in rags, exhaustion, and hunger. I don’t want to go down to them, so I stick to the upper level of the jet. At least it’s quiet in this section, separated from the bay by a narrow stairwell, and from the cockpit by a closed door. I can’t make myself move past the two bodies at my feet. One lies beneath a white sheet, stained only by the blossom of red blood over his pierced heart. Farley kneels over him, frozen, a hand under the sheet to clutch my brother’s cold, dead fingers. The other corpse I refuse to cover.
Elara looks ugly in death. Lightning twisted her muscles, pulling her mouth into a sneer even she couldn’t muster while alive. Her simple uniform is cooked to her skin, and her ash-blond hair is almost gone, burned away until only stringy patches remain. The other bodies, her guards, were just as deformed. We left them rotting on the runway. But the queen is still unmistakable. Everyone will know this corpse. I’ll make sure of it.
“You should go lie down.”
The body unsettles Kilorn, that much is clear. I don’t know why. We should be dancing on her bones. “Let Sara check you out.”
“Tell Cal to change course.”
He blinks at me, perplexed. “Change course? What are you talking about? We’re going back to the Notch, back home—”
Home. I scoff at such a childish word. “We’re going back to Tuck. Tell him, please.”
“Mare.”
“Please.”
He doesn’t move. “Have you gone crazy? Do you remember what happened back there, what the Colonel will do to you if you come back?”
Crazy. I wish. I wish my mind would snap from the torture my life has become. That would be such a relief, to simply go mad. “He can certainly try. But there are too many of us now, even for him. And when he sees what I bring him, I doubt he’ll refuse us this time.”
“The body?” he breathes, visibly shaking. It’s not the corpse scaring him, I realize quietly. It’s me. “You’re going to show him the body?”
“I’m going to show everyone.” Again, firmer. “Tell Cal to change course. He will understand.”
The jab stings Kilorn, but I don’t care. He hardens, drawing back to do as I tell him. The cockpit door shuts behind him, but I barely notice. I’m preoccupied with more important things than petty insults. Who is he to question my orders? He’s no one. A fish boy with only good luck and my foolishness to protect him. Not like Shade, a teleporter, a newblood, a great man. How can he be dead? And he is not the only one. No, there are certainly others left to make the prison their tomb. We’ll only know when we land, and can see who else escaped on the Blackrun. And we will be landing on the island compound, not trekking to some lonely, backwoods cave.
“Did your seer tell you about this?”
The first words Farley’s spoken since we left Corros. She hasn’t wept yet, but her voice sounds hoarse, as if she spent the last few days screaming. Her eyes are horrible, ringed with red, the irises a vivid blue.
“That fool, Jon, who told us to do this?” she continues, turning to face me. “Did he tell you Shade would die? Did he? I suppose that was an easy price for the lightning girl to pay, so long as it meant more newbloods for you to control. More soldiers in a war you have no idea how to fight. One measly brother for more followers