of a choice.”
“But you do have a choice.” I hope he knows I mean it. I hope it for my own sake, for my own soul. “You can choose to stay, or come. You
know better than anyone how much has been lost—but you can help
us regain something too.”
Nix is quiet for a long while after that. He paces, scarf in hand,
occasionally glancing through the branches at the watchtower beacon.
It revolves three times before he speaks again.
“My girls are dead, my wife’s dead, and I’m sick of the marsh stink,”
he says, stopping in front of me. “I’m with you.” Then he glares over
my shoulder, and I don’t need to turn around to know he’s looking at
Cal. “Just keep that one far away from me.”
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T W E LV E
We trudge back through the woods unscathed, chased by nothing except sea breeze and clouds. But I can’t shake the feeling of dread curling
around my heart.
Even though Nix almost split Cal’s skull, recruiting him seemed
easy. Too easy. And if I’ve learned anything over the past seventeen
years, over the past month, it’s that nothing is easy. Everything has a price. If Nix is not a trap, then he is certainly a danger. Anyone can betray anyone.
So even though he reminds me of Dad, even though he’s little more
than a gray beard and grief, even though he’s like me, I close my heart
to the man from Coraunt. I have saved him from Maven, told him what
he was, and let him make his choice. Now I must carry on, to do the
same for another and another and another. All that matters is the next
name.
The starlight illuminates the woods enough for a quick glance, and
I thumb through the now familiar pages of Julian’s list. There are few
in the area, clustered around the city of Harbor Bay. Two are listed
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in the city proper, and one in the New Town slum. How we’ll get to
any of them, I’m not sure. The city will surely be walled like Archeon
and Summerton, while the restrictions on techie slums are even worse
than the Measures. Then I remember; walls and restrictions don’t apply
to Shade. Luckily he’s walking better by the hour, and shouldn’t need
the crutch after a few more days. Then we’ll be unstoppable. Then we
might even win.
The thought thrills and confuses me in equal measure—what will
a world like that look like? I can only imagine where I’ll be. At home
maybe, certainly with my family, somewhere in the woods where I
can hear a river. With Kilorn nearby, of course. But Cal? I don’t know
where he’ll choose to be, in the end.
In the darkness of night, it’s easy to let your mind wander. I’m used
to forests and don’t really need to focus to keep from tripping on roots
and leaves. So I dream as I walk, thinking of what might be. An army
of newbloods. Farley leading the Scarlet Guard. A proper Red upris-
ing, from the Choke trenches to the alleys of Gray Town. Cal always
said that all-out war was not worth the cost, that the loss of Red and
Silver life would be too great. I hope he’s right. I hope Maven will see
what we are, what we can do, and know he cannot win. Even he is not
a fool. Even he knows when he is beaten. At least, I hope he does. Because as far as I can tell, Maven has never been defeated. Not when it really
counts. Cal won their father, his soldiers, but Maven won the crown.
Maven won every battle that truly mattered.
And given time . . . he would’ve won me too.
I see him in every shadow of every tree, a ghost standing tall against
the rainstorm in the Bowl of Bones. Water streams between the points
of his iron crown, into his eyes and mouth, into his collar, into the icy
abyss that is his wasted heart. It goes red in color, turning from water
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to my blood. He opens his mouth to taste it, and the teeth within are
sharp, gleaming razors of white bone.
I blink him away, blotting out the memory of the traitor prince.
Farley murmurs in the darkness, detailing the true purpose of the
Guard. Nix is a smart man, but like everyone else beneath the rule of
the Burning Crown, he has been fed lies. Terrorism, anarchy, bloodlust, those are the words the broadcasts use when describing the Guard. They
show the children dead