War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,228

know what fear looks like in Maven Calore, and he is terrified now. For very good reason.

Whatever plan he had, whatever hope there was for escape, just disappeared with that train.

He catches me staring, reading the fading expression on his face. His jaw tightens just a little and his eyes run over me, slow as a caress.

You can’t run from what you’ve done, I want to say aloud.

He gets the message.

As the train fades to nothing again, beyond my perception, his eyes flutter shut.

I think he’s saying good-bye.

Like the lights of the train, the spiraling white of the Treasury vaults is blinding.

Tyton has Maven by the neck. He uses the leverage to increase our pace, forcing Maven to march faster and faster as we ascend the vault levels. The air fills with the sound of weapons and body armor being checked. Guns loaded, blades drawn, buttons fastened, buckles clicked into place. The pistol on my own hip is still an unusual weight, and I lean a little to compensate. I doubt I’ll fire a bullet up there. Not like Farley. She sheds her jacket, tossing it to the side to be trampled by the hundreds behind us. Without the red overcoat, I can see the many belts and holsters crossing her back and hips, slung with half a dozen different guns and corresponding ammunition, as well as her radio. She has her knives as well, now in plain sight. Diana Farley is ready for war.

Somewhere behind us, one of the Scarlet Guard shouts, her voice echoing oddly. I can’t decipher it, but others repeat her words. The cheer reverberates off the walls, the sound rising like thunder, until I realize what they’re chanting.

“Rise, red as the dawn.”

In spite of my fear, I feel a wicked, wild grin rise to my lips.

“Rise, red as the dawn.”

The spiraling passage choruses with the battle cry.

We’re almost running, Maven struggling to keep up with Tyton’s pace. Farley matches his speed, her long strides eating up the white marble beneath our feet.

“Rise, red as the dawn.”

Kilorn’s voice joins the din.

“Rise, red as the dawn.”

The lights overhead flicker in time with my heartbeat.

I look back, searching through the ranks of red and green, Scarlet Guard and Montfort. The range of faces, skin every shade, blood both colors, all speaking in shuddering unison. Some raise their fists or weapons or both, but no one is silent. Our voices are so loud I can barely hear my own.

“Rise, red as the dawn.”

I call to lightning, call to thunder, call to all the strength left in my body. I’m not a general or commander. The only things I have to worry about topside are myself, Kilorn, and Farley, if she’ll let me. That’s all I have the capacity for.

And Cal, wherever he might be. Leading his army, fighting in vain against a greater force. Defending a city from almost inevitable ruin.

Tyton is first through the great doors of the Treasury, vaulting out into the spiraling rain with Maven in tow. The younger prince skids, his shoes sliding over the wet tiles of Caesar’s Square, but Tyton keeps his grip. I follow, half expecting Tyton to kill Maven on the spot, already shivering in the rain. We never planned on letting Maven survive the battle. And we don’t need him anymore, not really.

It could be over right now.

I feel tugged by both ends of the decision. As if it’s really my decision to make.

The other electricon never loosens his grasp, almost holding Maven down. Tyton isn’t as temperamental as the rest of us. He is slow to fury, even now, with Maven in hand. He’s a good jailer for someone the rest of us despise so much.

“Do it,” I hear Maven grit out, head still bowed. He extends his white hands and I watch his fingers tremble in the rain. Like me, he knows where this road leads.

Behind us, more and more of Farley’s forces flood into the Square, still cheering the words of the Scarlet Guard. They fill the space with color, uniforms of red and green standing out starkly even in the wet fog. I focus on the fallen king, now shuddering a hundred yards from his own palace. Even the rhythmic thud of gunfire and explosions barely penetrates my awareness.

“I said, do it,” Maven snarls again. Trying to goad Tyton.

Or me.

Above us, the storm clouds churn. I feel the flash of lightning before it crackles across the sky, purple and white, an emblem of our presence. Let