Glass Sword (Red Queen #2) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,151

You have such lovely

delusions.”

A small victory, I think, shutting my eyes. She will never have the

lightning, and she will never have me. A victory indeed.

Again, I feel myself falling.

But instead of the bullet, the bars smack against my face. I open

my eyes in time to see Elara sailing away from me, the gun spilling

from her hand, a look of terrible anger twisting her beautiful face. Her

guards scatter with her, disappearing into the yellowed clouds. And

someone grabs my good arm, pulling me to him.

“C’mon, Mare, I can’t get you through on my own,” Shade says,

trying to ease me through the bars. Breathless, I squeeze, pulling as

much of myself as I can through. I guess it’s enough, because sud-

denly the world shrinks, the mist disappears, and I open my eyes to see

blinding, white tile.

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I almost collapse with joy. When I see Sara sprinting toward me,

her hands outstretched, with Kilorn and Julian on her heels, I really do.

Someone else catches me, someone warm. He turns me on my side and

I hiss when my arm catches a bit of the pressure.

“Arm first, then burns, then scars,” Cal says, all business. I can’t

help but moan when Sara touches me, and a blissful numbing spreads

through my arm. Something cool hits my back, healing the burns,

which were certainly infected. But before the healing can spread to my

ugly, gnarled scars, I’m pulled to my feet and out of Sara’s control.

The door at the end of the corridor explodes outward, broken apart

by rapidly growing twists of tree trunk. The mist follows, spinning

toward us at great speed. The shadows come last. I know who they

belong to.

Cal throws a blast of fire at the oncoming branches, burning them

back, but the charred embers simply join the roaring whirlwind. “Cam-

eron?” I yell, craning my head to look for the one person who can stop

Elara. But she’s nowhere to be found.

“She’s already out, now go,” Kilorn yells at me, pushing me ahead.

I know I’m what Elara wants. Not only for my ability but for my

face. If she can control me, she can use me as a mouthpiece again, to lie

to the country, to do as she says. That’s why I run faster than the others.

I have always been the fast one. When I look back over my shoulder,

I’m yards ahead, and what I see chills me.

Cal has to forcibly pull Julian along, not because he’s weak, but

because he keeps trying to stop. He wants to face her. He wants to pit

his voice against her mind, against her whispers. To avenge a dead sis-

ter, a wounded love, a broken and torn-apart pride. But Cal won’t lose

the last piece of family he has left, and all but drags Julian away. Sara

keeps close to Julian’s side, one hand in his, unable to scream in fear.

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Then I turn the corner. And I hit something. No, someone.

Another woman, another person I never wanted to see again.

Ara, the Panther, the head of House Iral, glares at me with eyes

black as coal. Her fingers are still tinged gray-blue by Silent Stone and

her clothes are tattered rags. But her strength is already returning, evi-

denced by the pure steel in her gaze. No way around but through. I

raise my lightning to kill her, another one who knew I was different

all along.

She reacts before I can, grabbing my shoulders with agility no

human should possess. But instead of breaking my neck or slitting

my throat, she tosses me sideways, and something ruffles my hair. A

curved, spinning blade, sharp as a razor, big as a dinner plate, flies past

my face, centimeters from my nose. I hit the ground, gasping in shock,

clutching at the head I almost lost. And above me, Ara Iral stands her

ground, dodging every blade that sails over us. They’re coming from

the opposite end of the hall, where another person from the past stands,

forming metal disks from the plates of his familiar scale armor.

“Didn’t your father ever teach you respect for your elders?” Ara

crows at Ptolemus, stepping neatly under another blade. The next one

she pulls out of the air, and tosses it back at him. An impressive but

useless trick, as he waves it off with a curled smirk. “Well, Red, aren’t

you going to do something?” she adds, toeing my leg.

I stare at her, stunned for a moment. Then I clamber to my feet,

forcing myself to stand. A little bit of

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