War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,233

realize we’re back at the edge of the Square, embedded within Farley’s troops now rapidly fortifying the cliff. Beyond, a skeleton of the Archeon Bridge remains, collapsed in the middle, with the river boiling below. One of the Lakelander ships is pinned, sinking beneath the weight of a bridge support that fell like a tree in a storm, crashing down on the steel hull. Too heavy, even for the Lakelander queens.

Through the fog, I can’t see the far end of the Bridge, but I can only hope the bulk of my forces made it to one of the surviving edges. We didn’t have much of an army to begin with, but every life lost is another weight on my shoulders. I feel as if the burden might crush me already, and this battle is far from over.

Mare shifts to stand at my side, looking out as I do. Her fingers lace with mine for a second before she reluctantly pulls away. “I need to find him,” she whispers.

As much as I want to help her in such an endeavor, I simply can’t. Not unless I want to leave Nanabel in command or, by my colors, Julian. Neither is equipped to defend Archeon properly, especially in conjunction with Diana Farley.

“Go,” I tell Mare, putting my hand on the small of her back. With a heavy sigh, I give her the slightest push. Toward my brother. To kill him. “Be rid of him.”

I should be the one to do it. I should have the spine for that.

But I can’t bear it. I can’t bear the weight of killing him. Not Mavey.

As she goes, Kilorn tagging along with her, I shut my eyes and draw in a long, rattling breath.

How many times do I have to say good-bye to him?

How many times have I lost him?

“The river!” someone barks.

I snap to attention, letting instinct take hold. I trained for years to be a warrior and a general, to see battle inches in front of me and from miles away. Immediately I try to picture the city in my head, split down the middle by the Capital River, now choked with the Lakelander armada. We’re cut off from the other side of Archeon, isolated here, with only teleporters for transport. How many, I don’t know. But it certainly isn’t enough if the Lakelanders decide to turn their attention on the cliffs and the people there.

Farley still holds her perch, a long gun slung over one shoulder. She presses her eyes to a pair of binoculars, looking downward, unmoving. Like a statue, silhouetted by mist and smoke.

“Is it still rising?” I ask, stepping up next to her for a better look. She passes me the binoculars without breaking her stare.

“And rising faster. Look downriver,” she adds, jerking her thumb to the south.

It isn’t hard to spot what she means. Whitecaps approach, waves breaking in choppy motion, as the Lakelanders pull in more and more water from the ocean. The river surges forward at a steady pace, solidifying into a wall of water like a single, unbroken ripple twenty feet high. I’d bet the river here has risen at least thirty feet so far, and it’s about to rise a lot more.

In spite of the Scarlet Guard fortifications, the cliffs take a beating, pieces of rock shearing away as another volley of missiles hits home. I duck, raising an arm to block the debris as it sprays over us. Farley simply turns her head.

“Julian’s running the infirmary at the barracks with Sara Skonos. Better get some runners ready,” I instruct, watching as a few soldiers turn away from the cliffs, their faces bloody.

“And Anabel?” she replies. Her tone is forcibly neutral.

“War Command.”

“With Samos?”

I hesitate, thinking about what Evangeline told me before my coronation. That Julian and Anabel were scheming to kill him. Remove the Rift from the equation. And maybe buy us some peace with his corpse. If that’s the price, I won’t stop her.

“Perhaps” is all I can manage before I try to change the subject. “What’s your plan?” I ask her. I’ve never known Diana Farley to strike without some kind of idea, maybe even an outright trick up her sleeve. Especially not with someone like Davidson backing her, not to mention the entire Scarlet Guard. “You’ve got one, right?”

“We might,” she replies. “And you?”

“We were trying to clog up the armada, trap them maybe, force a cease-fire, but those nymph queens are unbeatable on the water.”

“Are they?” Farley narrows her eyes at me.