War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,4

mouse for supper. “If someone . . . helped her?”

Cal didn’t deny the crown for love. But would Evangeline?

Something tells me she might. All her maneuvering, the quiet resistance, walking a razor’s edge.

“It’s possible.” The words take on new meaning to both of us. New weight. “She has motivations of her own. And I think that gives us a bit of an advantage.”

Farley’s lips curve, taking on the shadow of a true smile. In spite of all I’ve learned, I feel a sudden burst of hope. She thumps me on the arm, her grin spreading.

“Well, Barrow, write it down again. I’m damn proud of you.”

“I do prove useful from time to time.”

She barks a laugh and steps away, gesturing for me to follow. The avenue outside the alley beckons, its flagstones gleaming as the last of the snow melts beneath the summer sun. I hesitate, reluctant to leave this corner of dark safety. The world beyond this narrow space still seems too big. The inner ward of Corvium looms, and the core tower stands at the center of it all. With a shaky breath, I force myself to move. The first step aches. So does the second.

“You don’t have to go back up,” Farley mutters, falling in at my side. She glares at the tower. “I’ll let you know how it shakes out. Davidson and I can handle it.”

The thought of going back to the council chamber, sitting there in silence as Tiberias throws everything we’ve ever done in my face—I don’t know if I can bear it. But I have to. I notice things the others can’t. Know things others don’t. I have to go back. For the cause.

And for him.

I can’t deny how much I want to go back for him.

“I want to know everything you know,” I whisper to Farley. “Everything Davidson has planned. I’m not going into anything else blind.”

She agrees quickly. Almost too quickly. “Of course.”

“I’m yours to use. In any way. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

My steps slow, and she matches my pace. “He lives. At the end of all this.”

Like a confused dog, she tips her head.

“Break his crown, break his throne, rip his monarchy apart.” I stare up at her with as much strength as I can muster. The lightning in my blood responds with fervor, begging to crack loose. “But Tiberias lives.”

Farley sucks in a searing breath, drawing herself up to her full, formidable height. It feels like she can see right through me. To my imperfect heart. I hold my ground. I’ve earned the right.

Her voice wavers. “I can’t make that promise. But I’ll try. I’ll certainly try, Mare.”

At least she doesn’t lie to me.

I feel cut in two, torn in different directions. An obvious question hangs in my mind. Another choice that I might need to make. His life or our victory? I don’t know which side I might choose, if I ever have to. Which side I might betray. The knife of that knowledge cuts deep, and I bleed where no one else can see.

I suppose this is what the seer was talking about. Jon spoke very little, but everything he said had calculated meaning. As much as I don’t want to, I suppose I have to accept the fate he foretold.

To rise.

And rise alone.

The flagstones roll beneath me, passing with each step. The breeze kicks up again, blowing in from the west this time. It carries with it the unmistakable tang of blood. I fight the urge to retch as it all comes rushing back. The siege. The bodies. The blood in both colors. My wrist snapping clean in a stoneskin’s grasp. Necks broken, chests obliterated in bursts of flesh, glistening organs, and spiked bone. In the battle, it was easy to detach from such horror. Necessary, even. The fear would only get me killed. Not anymore. My heartbeat triples in speed and cold sweat breaks across my body. Even though we survived and won, the terror of loss ripped open canyons inside me.

I can still feel them. The nerves, the electric paths my lightning traced in every person I killed. Like thin, glowing branches, each one different but also the same. Too many to count. In red and blue uniforms, Nortan and Lakelander. All Silvers.

I hope.

The possibility hits me like a punch in the gut. Maven has used Reds for cannon fodder before, or as human shields. I didn’t even think about it. None of us did—or maybe the others didn’t care. Davidson, Cal, maybe even Farley,