construed as anything but professional. âThen weâll execute you first, say you ran off and got shot for deserting. Eastree can falsify the documents like she does with other assets. And besides, itâs high time we moved you anyways.â
âDo you have any idea where that might be?â
âYouâll be going to Trial, across the border. That shouldnât be too difficult for someone with your skills.â
âIâm not invincible. I canât jump hundreds of miles, or even, well, navigate myself that far. Can you?â he mumbles.
I have to smile. Crance should work . âI think I can secure you a map and a guide.â
âYouâre not coming?â I tell myself Iâm imagining the disappointment in his voice.
âI have other business to handle first. Careful,â I add, noting a cluster of officers up ahead. Shadeâs arm tightens on mine, pulling me closer. Heâll jump if he has to, and Iâll get sick all over my boots again .
âTry not to make me sick this time,â I grumble, drawing his crooked grin.
But thereâs no need for his trepidation. The officers are focused elsewhere, on a cracked video screen, likely the only one in the Red market. Used for official broadcasts, but there isnât anything official about what theyâre watching.
âForgot Queenstrial was today,â one of them says, leaning forward to squint at the picture. It blurs occasionally. âCouldnât get a better set for us, eh, Marcos?â
Marcos flushes gray, annoyed. âThis is Red sector, what did you expect? Youâre welcome to go back to rounds if this doesnât satisfy!â
Queenstrial . I remember something about the word. In the briefing on Norta, the packet of cobbled-together information the Colonel made me read before I was sent here. Something about princesâchoosing brides, maybe. I wrinkle my nose at the idea, but somehow I canât tear my eyes away from the screen as we get closer and closer.
On it, a girl in black leather demonstrates her storied abilities. Magnetron , I realize as she manipulates the metal of whatever arena sheâs been dropped into.
Then a flash of red drops across the screen, landing hard against the electric shield separating the magnetron girl from the rest of the Silver elite watching her display.
The officers gasp in unison. One of them even turns away. âI donât want to see this,â he groans, as if heâs about to be sick.
Shade is rooted to the spot, his eyes hard on the screen, watching the red blotch. His grip tightens on me, forcing me to look. The blotch has a face. His sister .
Mare Barrow .
He goes cold against me as the lightning swallows her whole.
âIt should have killed her.â
Shadeâs hands are shaking and he has to crouch in the alley to keep the rest from following suit. I drop to my knees next to him, one hand on his shivering arm.
âIt should have killed her,â he says again, his eyes wide and hollow.
I donât need to ask to know heâs replaying the scene in his head, over and over again. His young sister falling into the Queenstrial arena. To her death under all circumstances. But Mare didnât die. She was electrocuted on camera, but she didnât die.
âSheâs alive, Shade,â I tell him, turning his face to mine. âYou saw yourself, she got up and ran.â
âHow is that possible?â
Now is not the time to appreciate the joke. âI asked you the same thing once.â
âThen sheâs different too.â His eyes darken, sliding away from my face. âAnd sheâs with them . I have to help her.â
He tries to scramble to his feet, but the shock has not worn off. I help him back down as gently as I can, letting him lean on me.
âTheyâll kill her, Diana,â he whispers. His voice breaks my heart. âThey could be doing it right now.â
âSomehow,
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