War Storm (Red Queen) - Victoria Aveyard Page 0,81

wielding a smile like a shield to trade information and veiled threats with the other Silvers. Nor do I have any desire to shut my eyes among Reds who would rather slit my throat. No, strangely, Mare Barrow is my safest haven here. Our bargain protects us both.

Mare shifts her attention, moving so her body is squared to the general. They don’t speak, and Diana Farley doesn’t look at Barrow. Her focus on the window is perfect, enough to shatter the glass. She doesn’t seem to notice when Mare takes her hand.

As the jet purrs to life, its engines humming to a roar, she doesn’t move. Her teeth clench, the muscles in her jaw jumping as she grinds them together.

Only when we take off, climbing into the clouds, leaving the mountains behind, does she shut her eyes.

I think I hear her whisper good-bye.

I’m the first down the steps of the jet, gulping the fresh scent of the Rift in summer. I smell dirt and river and leaves and damp heat, undercut with the distant hint of iron beneath the hills. The sun is strong, bright in a hazy, humid sky. It makes everything gleam in odd contrast. The ridges march off into the distance, lush and green against the flat, hot black of the paved runway. If I were to lay a palm to the ground, it would burn my skin. Waves of heat distortion rise from the pavement, wobbling the world around me. Or that could just be me, trembling with want. I try not to run. Try to hold on to some sense of propriety.

My relationship with Elane Haven is an open secret now, and a small one in comparison to the myriad of alliances and betrayals that seem to tangle our lives in so many webs.

A small secret, but a shameful one. An obstacle. A difficulty.

In Norta. In the Rift, a voice says in my head. Not so elsewhere.

She won’t be waiting out here for all to see. It’s not her way. Still, my heartbeat hammers, pounding at my pulse points.

Ptolemus is not so restricted. He stands on the runway, sweating stubbornly in a summer uniform of gray linen and reserved regalia. The only metal on him winks at his wrists. Thick-braided iron rope, more weapon than jewelry. A caution, especially alongside the dozen or so guards in Samos colors. A few are cousins, marked by their silver hair and black eyes. The rest are pledged to our house, to my father’s crown, in the same way Maven’s guards were. I don’t bother noting their colors. They don’t matter.

“Eve,” he says, opening his arms to me. I return the gesture, holding him around the middle, letting all the muscles in my body release for one long moment of relief. Ptolemus is safe and whole beneath my fingertips. Solid. Real. Alive.

Now, more than ever, I won’t take that for granted.

“Tolly,” I breathe in reply, pulling back to look up at him. The same relief I feel flashes in his stormy eyes. We despise being parted. It’s like separating a sword from a shield. “I’m sorry I left.”

No, you didn’t leave him. That denotes choice. You had no choice in this. My fingers tighten on my brother’s upper arm. Father sent me to Montfort. To send a message. Not just to our coalition, but to me. He is my king and lord of my house. It is my duty to obey him. To go where he wishes, do as he says, and marry who he commands. Live as he wills.

But I see no other way, no other path than the one he sets.

“Sad to miss the chaos?” Ptolemus says, pushing me back softly. “Father’s gone a bit wild making up a proper court. Silver all over the place. And he can’t decide on a throne.”

“What about Mother?” I ask, tentative.

Despite the heat, Ptolemus tucks my arm under his, leading me toward our transport. Behind us, others fall in line, but I have little regard for them.

“More of the same,” he says. “Prodding after grandchildren. She escorts Elane to my rooms every night. I think she might even stand guard outside the door.”

Bile rises in my throat, but I force it down.

“And?” I try to keep my voice from wavering. His grip tightens.

“We do as we all agreed.” His breath catches. “What has to be done, for this to work.”

Hot, green envy roars in my chest.

I thought I wouldn’t be jealous. Months ago, when all three of us came to