War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,112

to see what it holds. The room beyond is pitch-black. “So he’ll attack another city. Maybe even the capital.”

Maven tsks like I’m a stupid child in the classroom. I fight back the urge to stick his head into the nearest fountain.

“My brother and his coalition intend to strike Harbor Bay.”

“How can you be sure?”

The king purses his lips. “It’s his best option. The fort, the ships in port—not to mention its sentimental value,” he adds, spitting out the words with revulsion. “His mother loved that city.” His fingers play with the latch on the open door. It’s a strong-looking lock. More complicated than it should be.

I swallow hard. If Maven thinks Cal will go for Harbor Bay, I believe him. And I don’t want my mother, or our armies, anywhere near the conflict. Excuses spring up in my head, ready to wield.

“Our fleet is still in the Lakes,” I offer, sounding apologetic. “It will take time.”

Maven doesn’t seem surprised, or even concerned, by my words. He passes closer to me, his hands inches from mine. I can feel the sickly heat of his skin. “I expected as much,” he says. “So I’ll give your royal mother some incentive.”

My stomach twists. “Oh?”

His smile flashes. I hate it.

“Have you ever been to Harbor Bay, Iris?”

“No, Maven.” If I were a lesser person, untrained, my voice would tremble. Not with the fear he wants from me. But with rage. It ripples through me, furious as a storm.

Maven doesn’t seem to notice. Or care. “I certainly hope you enjoy the visit,” he says, still grinning.

“So I’m bait,” I hiss.

“I would never call you bait. But incentive.” He heaves a sigh. “Yes, I believe I did call you that.”

“How dare you—”

He speaks over me, his voice louder than before. “With you in the city, ready to lead the defense, I’m certain your mother will do all she can to uphold her end of our alliance. Don’t you agree?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer, and his voice turns ragged. A fist clenches at his side. “I need the armies I was promised. I need reinforcements. I need nymphs in the harbor to drown that city and everyone in it.”

Hastily, I nod. If only for the sake of placating him. “I’ll tell her. But I can’t guarantee—”

Maven closes the distance between us and I tense. His fist closes over my wrist, grip tight, as he pulls me forward. I bite back the instinct to fight. It will only end in pain. “Just as I cannot guarantee your safety there,” he says, stopping just short of the dark doorway. His lips twitch, amused. “Or even here.”

At some hidden signal, the doorway behind us crowds with a troop of Sentinels. They are all broad, masked and robed, glittering in their black jewels and flaming silks. My guards—and my jailers.

I realize what this is. What the next room, the black place where Maven stands so easily, is supposed to be.

His throne isn’t the only thing here made of Silent Stone.

The threat gleams, the edge of a razor pressed against my neck. His grip tightens, fingers cold on my skin. There will be no running from Maven’s commands.

“And what about you, my brave and just king?” I snarl, still staring into the black room. I can just feel it, the numbing edge of Stone.

He doesn’t rise to the insult. He’s too smart for that.

“Don your armor, Iris. Wait for the storm. And hope your mother moves as quickly as my brother can.”

EIGHTEEN

Mare

There are no stars this close to New Town. The sky around the slum is permanently choked with a haze of pollution. It smells foul and poisonous, even on the outskirts, where the noxious fog is thinnest. I draw up the kerchief around my neck, breathing through the fabric instead.

The other soldiers around me do the same, pulling faces at the toxic air. But not Cameron. She’s used to it.

Relief washes over me every time I look at Cameron, her lean, dark form moving nimbly through the pitch-black forest. She’s so tall, easy to pick out among the dozens moving with us. Kilorn keeps close to her side, his silhouette familiar. As I watch the pair of them, my relief quickly melts to shame.

Cameron escaped the Piedmont base, fleeing into the swamps with her brother and a few dozen more survivors. Many died where she did not. Red soldiers of the Dagger Legion, children we swore to keep safe. Newbloods of Montfort. Newbloods of the Notch. Silvers. Reds.