Ash and soot streak the white walls of the Treasury Hall. One of the airjet missiles took a chunk out of the corner, slicing through marble like butter. It lies in a pile of rubble around the entrance, forming good cover. The Sentinels make full use of it, their ranks bolstered by the Lakelanders and a few of the purple-uniformed Treasury guards. Some of them fire into the oncoming Guardsmen, using bullets to defend their king’s escape, and many more utilize their abilities. I dart around a few bodies frozen solid on their feet, the violent work of a Gliacon shiver. Another few are alive but on their knees, bleeding from the ears. Marinos banshee. The evidence of so many deadly Silvers is all around. Corpses speared by metal, necks broken, skulls caved in, mouths dripping water, a particularly gruesome body that seems to have choked on the plants growing out of its mouth. As I watch, a greeny throws a handful of seeds at an attacking swath of Scarlet Guard. Before my eyes, the seeds burst like grenades, spitting vines and thorns in a verdant explosion.
I don’t see Cal here, or any other faces I recognize. Maven is already in the Treasury, headed for the train.
Clenching a fist, I throw everything I can at the Sentinels. My lightning crackles along the rubble, sending them scurrying back. Dimly, I hear someone shout to push forward. The Guardsmen do, continuing to fire round after round. I keep up the pressure, sending another blaze of lightning across them like a cracking whip.
“Incoming!” a voice screams.
I look up, expecting a blow from the sky. Airjets dance through the stormy clouds, chasing one another. None of them seem concerned by us.
Then someone pushes me aside, throwing me out of the way. I turn in time to see a person I recognize barrel along a cleared pathway, his head lowered, body armored on the head, neck, and shoulders. He picks up speed, legs pumping.
“Darmian!”
He doesn’t hear me, too busy crashing toward the marble blockade. Bullets ping off his armor and skin. A shiver sends a blast of icicles at his chest, but they shatter. If he’s afraid, he doesn’t show it. He never hesitates. Cal taught him that. Back at the Notch. When we were all together. I remember a different Darmian then, the one I knew. He was a quiet man compared to Nix, another newblood who shared his ability of impenetrable flesh. Nix is long dead now, but Darmian is very much alive. Roaring, he clambers over the marble blockade, careening into two Sentinels.
They fall on him with everything they have. Stupid. They might as well be shooting at bulletproof glass. Darmian responds in kind, dropping grenades with cold rhythm. They bloom in fire and smoke. Sentinels fall backward, few of them able to withstand a direct explosion.
Guardsmen vault over the rubble, following in Darmian’s wake. Many overtake him. The Sentinels are not their mission. Maven is. They flood into the Treasury, hot on the king’s trail.
As I run forward, I let my ability press on ahead. I feel the lights of the Treasury’s main hall, spiraling down into the rock beneath us. My sense jumps along the wires, deeper and deeper. Something big idles below, its engine a rising purr. He’s still here.
The marble beneath my feet is easy to scale. I scrabble over the rubble on all fours, my mind focused a hundred feet down. The next grenade blast catches me unawares. Its force blows me backward in a wave of heat. I land hard, flat on my back, gasping for breath, quietly thankful for Crance’s jacket. The explosion blazes over me, close enough to burn my cheek.
Too big for a grenade. Too controlled for natural flame.
I scramble to my feet, forcing my legs to obey as I suck down air. Maven. I should have known. He wouldn’t leave me up here. Wouldn’t run away without his favorite pet. He’s come to put the chains back on me himself.
Good luck.
Smoke follows the swirling fire, making the already dark Square hazy. It surrounds me, growing stronger and hotter with every passing second. Tensing, I send lightning through my nerves, letting it crackle over every inch. I take a step toward his silhouette, black and strange in the shifting firelight. The smoke curls, the fire shooting with raging hot blue flame. Sweat drips down my neck. My fists clench, ready to run him through with every drop of rage collected in his prison. I’ve been waiting for this moment. Maven is a cunning king, but no fighter. I’m going to rip him apart.
Lighting ripples over our heads, flashing brighter than the flame. It illuminates him as the wind picks up, blowing away the smoke to reveal—
Red-gold eyes. Broad shoulders. Callused hands, familiar lips, unruly black hair, and a face I have ached for.
Not Maven. All thoughts of the boy king disappear in an instant.
“Cal!”
The fireball hisses through the air, almost engulfing my head. I roll beneath it on instinct alone. Confusion rules my brain. He’s unmistakable. Cal, standing there in tactical armor, a red sash tied across him from waist to hip. I fight the animal need to run toward him. It takes every fiber of control to step back.
“Cal, it’s me! It’s Mare!”
He doesn’t speak, just pivots on his feet, keeping me in front of him. The fire around us churns and contracts, pulling inward with blinding speed. The heat crushes the air from my lungs, and I choke down smoke. Only lightning keeps me safe, crackling around me in a shield of electricity to keep me from burning alive.
I roll again, bursting through his inferno. My dress smolders, trailing smoke. I don’t waste precious time or brainpower trying to figure out what’s going on. I already know.
His eyes are shadowed, unfocused. No recognition in them. No indication that we’ve spent the last six months trying to get back to each other. And his movements are robotic, even compared to his military-trained precision.
A whisper has his mind. I don’t have to guess which one.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, even though he can’t hear me.
A blast of lightning throws him back, the sparks dancing over the plates of his armor. He seizes, twitching as the electricity pulls on his nerves. I bite my lip, trying harder than I ever have before to walk the narrow line between incapacitation and injury. I err on the weak side. A mistake.
Cal is stronger than I ever realized. And he has such an advantage. I’m trying to save him. He’s trying to kill me.
He fights through the pain, charging. I dodge, my focus shifting from keeping him at bay to keeping out of his crushing grip. A fire-fueled punch arcs over my head. I smell burned hair. Another catches me in the stomach and I fall backward. I roll with the momentum and pop up again, my old tricks returning. With a twist of my hand, I send another bolt of sparks dancing up his leg and into his spine. He howls. The sound cuts my insides. But it gives me a head start.
My focus narrows to one thing, one person’s devilish face. Samson Merandus.
He has to be close enough to bewitch Cal and send him after me. I search the battle as I run, looking for his blue suit. If he’s here, he’s hiding well. Or he could be perched above, looking down from the Treasury roof or the many windows of the adjoining buildings. Frustration eats at my resolve. Cal’s right here. We’re back together. And he’s trying to kill me.
The heat of his rage licks at my heels. Another blast rips along my left, sending needles of white-hot agony down my arm. Adrenaline drowns it out quickly. I can’t afford pain right now.
At least I’m faster than he is. After the manacles, every step feels easier than the last. I let the storm above fuel me, feeding on the electric energy of the other lightning-wielding newblood somewhere. Her blue hair doesn’t cross my vision again. Too bad. I could use her right now.
If Samson is hiding near the Treasury, I only have to get Cal out of his circle of influence. Skidding, I turn to look over my shoulder. Cal is still following me, a shadow of blue-tinged flame and anger.
“Come and get me, Calore!” I shout to him, sending a blast of lightning at his chest. Stronger than the last, enough to leave a mark.
He twists sideways, dodging, never breaking step. Hot on my trail.
I hope this works.
No one dares get in our way.
Red and blue and purple, fire and lightning, chase in our wake, splitting the battle like a knife. He pursues with the singular resolve of a hunting dog. And I certainly feel hunted across the Square.
I angle for the main gate, to whatever rendezvous Crance mentioned. My escape. Not that I’ll take it yet. Not without Cal.
After a hundred yards, it’s clear that Samson is running with us, just out of sight. No Merandus whisper has a bigger range than that, not even Elara. I twist back and forth, scanning the bloodbath. The longer the battle pushes on, the more time the Silvers have to organize. Army soldiers in clouded gray uniforms flood the Square, systematically winning over pieces of it. Most of the nobles retreat behind the wall of military protection, though a few—the strongest, the bravest, the most bloodthirsty—continue fighting. I expect members of House Samos to be in the thick of it, but I see no magnetrons that I recognize. And still no other familiar members of the Scarlet Guard. No Farley, no Colonel, no Kilorn or Cameron or any of the newbloods I helped recruit. Just Darmian, probably blasting his way through the Treasury, and Cal, trying his best to put me in the ground.
I curse, wishing for Cameron above all of them. She could silence Cal, keep him contained long enough for me to find and destroy Samson. Instead, I have to do it myself. Keep him at bay, keep myself alive, and somehow root out the Merandus whisper plaguing us both.
Suddenly navy blue blurs by at the edge of my vision.
Long months in Silver captivity have made me attuned to house colors. Lady Blonos drilled her knowledge into me, and now, more than ever, I thank her for it.
I whirl, changing direction with a vengeance. Ash-blond hair darts through the Silver soldiers, attempting to blend into their ranks. Instead, he stands out, his formal suit in sharp contrast to their military uniforms. Everything narrows to him. All my focus, all my energy. I throw what I can in his direction, loosing jagged lightning upon Samson and the Silver shield between us.
His eyes lock on mine and the lightning arcs like a cracking whip. He has the same eyes as Elara, the same eyes as Maven. Blue as ice; blue as flame. Cold and unforgiving.
Somehow my electricity bends, curving around him. It slingshots away, rocketing in another direction. My hand swings with it, my body moving of its own accord as the lightning races at Cal. I try to shout out, even though warning a bewitched man will do nothing at all. But my lips don’t move. Horror bleeds down my spine, the only sensation I can feel. Not the ground beneath my feet, not the bite of new burns, not even the smoky air in my nose. It all disappears, wiped away. Taken.
Inside, I scream because Samson has me now. I can’t make a sound. There is no mistaking the jagged brush of his brain against my mind.
Cal blinks like someone waking up from a long sleep. He barely has time to react, lifting his arms to protect his head from the electric blow. Some of the jagged sparks turn to flame, manipulated by his ability. Most of them hit home, though, dropping him to his knees with a pained roar.
“Samson!” he screams through gritted teeth.
I realize my hand is moving, straying to my hip. It draws the pistol I took and puts steel to my temple.
Samson’s whispers rise in my head, threatening to drown out everything else.
Do it. Do it. Do it.
I don’t feel the trigger. I won’t feel the bullet.
Cal rips my arm back, spinning me away. He breaks my grip on the gun and tosses it across the tile. I’ve never seen him so afraid.
Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.
My body obeys.
I am a spectator in my own head. A furious battle rages before my eyes and I can’t do anything but watch. The tiled ground blurs as Samson makes me sprint, colliding head-on with Cal. I act as a human lightning rod, latching on to his armor, drawing electricity out of the sky to pour into him.
Pain and fear cloud his eyes. His flame can only shield so much.
I lunge, grabbing at his wrist. But the flamemaker bracelet holds firm.
Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.
Fire pushes me back. I tumble end over end, shoulders and skull bouncing. The world spins, and dizzy limbs try to make me stand.
Get up. Get up. Get up.
“Stay down, Mare!” I hear from Cal’s direction. His figure dances before me, splitting into three. I might have a concussion. Red blood pulses across the white tile.
Get up. Get up. Get up.
My feet move beneath me, pushing hard. I stand too quickly, nearly falling over again as Samson forces me into drunken steps. He closes the distance between my body and Cal’s. I’ve seen this before, a thousand years ago. Samson Merandus in the arena, forcing another Silver to cut up his own insides. He’ll do the same to me too, once he uses me to kill Cal.
I try to fight, though I don’t know where to start. Try to twitch a finger, a toe. Nothing responds.
Kill him. Kill him. Kill him.
Lightning erupts from my hand, spiraling toward Cal. It misses, off balance like my body. He sends an arc of fire in response, forcing me to dodge and stumble.
Get up. Kill him. Get up.
The whispers are sharp, cutting wounds across my mind. I must be bleeding in my brain.
KILL HIM. GET UP. KILL HIM.
Through the flames, I see navy blue again. Cal stalks after Samson and skids to a knee, taking aim with a pistol of his own.
GET UP—
Pain crashes through me like a wave and I fall backward just as a bullet tears overhead. Another follows, closer. On pure instinct, fighting the ringing in my bruised skull, I scramble to my toes. I move of my own volition.
Shrieking, I turn Cal’s fire to lightning, the red curls becoming purple-white veins of electricity. It shields me as Cal empties bullet after bullet in my direction. Behind him, Samson grins.
Bastard. He’s going to play us off each other for as long as it takes.
I push the lightning as fast as I can, letting it splinter toward Samson. If I can break his concentration, just for a second, it could be enough.
Cal reacts, a puppet on strings. He shields Samson with his broad body, taking the brunt of my attack.
“Someone help!” I shout to no one. We’re only three people in a battle of hundreds. A battle turning one-sided. The Silver ranks grow, fed by reinforcements from the barracks and the rest of the Archeon garrison. My five minutes have long passed. Whatever escape Crance promised is long gone.
I have to break Samson. I have to.
Another bolt of lightning, this time across the ground in a flood. No dodging that.
KILL HIM. KILL HIM. KILL HIM.
The whispers return, pulling back the electricity with my own two hands. It arcs backward in a crashing wave.
Cal drops and spins, throwing out his leg in a sweeping kick. It connects, sending Samson sprawling.
His control of me drops and I push forward. Another electric wave.
This one washes through them both. Cal curses, biting back a yelp. Samson writhes and screams, a blood-curdling sound. He isn’t used to pain.
Kill him—
The whisper is far away, weakening. I can fight it.
Cal grabs Samson by the neck, pulling him up only to smash his head back down.
Kill him—
I slice a hand through the air, pulling lightning with it. It splits a gash in Samson from hip to shoulder. The wound spurts Silver blood.
Help me—
Fire races down Samson’s throat, charring his insides. His vocal cords shred. The only screaming I hear now is in my head.
I bring my lightning into his brain. Electricity fries the tissue in his skull like an egg in a pan. His eyes roll over white. I want to make it last longer, want to make him pay for what torture he gave to me and so many others. But he dies too quickly.
The whispers disappear.
“It’s done,” I gasp aloud.
Cal looks up, still kneeling over the body. His eyes widen as if seeing me for the first time. I feel the same. I’ve been dreaming of this moment, wanting it for months and months. If not for the battle, for our precarious position wedged in the middle, I would wrap my arms around his neck and bury myself in the fire prince.
Instead, I help him to his feet, throwing one of his arms over my shoulder. He limps, one leg a mess of muscle spasms. I’m hurt too, bleeding slowly from a tear in my side. I press my free hand to the wound. The pain sharpens.
“Maven is below the Treasury. He has a train,” I say as we clamber away together.
His arm tightens around me. He steers us toward the main gate, quickening his pace with every step. “I’m not here for Maven.”
The gate looms, wide enough to allow three transports to drive through side by side. On the other side, the Bridge of Archeon spans the Capital River to meet the eastern half of the city. Smoke rises all over, reaching into the storm-black sky. I fight the urge to turn around and sprint for the Treasury. Maven will be gone by now. He is beyond my reach.
More military transports speed toward us while airjets scream in our direction. Too many reinforcements to withstand.
“What’s the plan, then?” I mumble. We’re about to be surrounded. The thought wears through my shock and adrenaline, sobering me up. All this for me. Bodies everywhere, Red and Silver. What a waste.
Cal’s hands find my face, making me turn to look at him. In spite of the destruction around us, he smiles.
“For once, we have one.”
I see green out of the corner of my eye. Feel another hand grab my arm.
And the world squeezes to nothing.