Red Queen (Red Queen, #1)

by Victoria Aveyard

Hexaprin Theater. Afternoon play. The best seats.

When the theater darkens, Maven throws an arm across my shoulders, pulling me so close I can feel his heartbeat. He smirks at the secretary, now peeking between the curtains. “Don’t disturb us,” he drawls, and he pulls my face to his. The door clicks behind us, locking shut, but neither of us pulls away. A minute or an hour passes, which I don’t know, until voices onstage bring me back to reality. “Sorry,” I mutter to Maven, standing up out of my chair in an effort to put some distance between us. There’s no time for kissing now, no matter how much I might want to. He only smirks, watching me instead of the play. I do my best to look elsewhere, but something always draws my eyes back to him. “What do we do now?” He laughs to himself, eyes glinting mischievously. “That’s not what I meant.” But I can’t help but smirk with him. “Cal cornered me earlier.” Maven’s lips purse, tightening at the thought. “And?” “It seems I’ve been saved.” His resulting grin could light the world entire, and I’m seized by the need to kiss him again. “I told you I would,” he says, his voice oddly rough. When his hand reaches for mine, I take it without question.

“Welcome to the City of Ruins, to Naercey,”

Under the table, Maven pats me on the knee. He’s buzzing with pride.

Maven brushes a hand over my dust map, wiping away West Archeon with a few strokes of his fingers. “Legions are loyal to their generals. And I happen to know a girl who knows a general very well.” When his eyes meet mine, all his fire is gone, replaced now by bitter cold. He smiles tightly. “You’re talking about Cal.” The soldier. The general. The prince. His father’s son. Again I think of Julian, of the uncle Cal would kill for his twisted version of justice. Cal would never betray his country, not for anything. When Maven answers, it’s matter-of-fact. “We give him a hard choice.” I can feel Kilorn’s eyes on my face, weighing my reaction, and it’s almost too much pressure to bear. “Cal will never turn his back on his crown, on your father.” “I know my brother. If it comes down to it, to saving your life or saving his crown, we both know what he will choose,” Maven fires back. “He would never choose me.” My skin burns under Maven’s gaze, with the memory of one stolen kiss. It was him who saved me from Evangeline. Cal who saved me from escaping and bringing more pain upon myself. Cal who saved me from conscription. I’ve been too busy trying to save others to notice how much Cal saves me. How much he loves me. Suddenly it’s very hard to breathe. Maven shakes his head. “He will always choose you.”

“We used to dance until dawn—at least, Cal did. Girls didn’t ask me to dance much, not unless Cal made them.” “I would ask you to dance,” I murmur back to him, my eyes still on the barracks. Will they be ours tomorrow? Maven doesn’t answer, shifting in his seat as we coast to a stop. He will always choose you. “I feel nothing for Cal,” I whisper in his ear as we clamber out of the transport. He smiles, his hand closing around mine, and I tell myself it’s not a lie.

I push through them, not knowing what I’ll find on the other side, but I know it won’t be good. Maven follows, his hand never leaving my elbow. When we reach the front of the crowd, I’m glad for his warm hand, a comfort to keep me quiet—and to pull me back.

Ptolemus appears from the back of the pack, dragging a screaming body by her hair. Cal turns away and meets my eyes the moment I recognize her. I can see regret there, but he does nothing to save her.

I remember the playful, smiling servant who first introduced me to this world; that person is gone.

Maven’s grip on my arm tightens, pulling me into him until his chest lies flush to my back. He knows I want to run to her, to save her, to help her. And I know we can’t do anything at all.

But Walsh is faster than his vision. “For Tristan,” she says, before slamming a hand to her mouth. She bites down on something and swallows, knocking her head back.

She seizes violently, twisting out of his grip with the last of her strength. When she hits the floor, her eyes are wide-open, staring but not seeing. Dead. For Tristan. I can’t even mourn her.

Careful, I warn myself. As much as his presence makes my skin crawl, I have to endure it. After all, I let him find me here on the balcony. I must give him hope. I must let him think he has a chance with me. That part was Maven’s idea, as much as it hurt him to say so. As for me, it’s hard to walk the narrow line between a lie and the truth, especially with Cal. I hate him, I know that, but something in his eyes and his voice reminds me that my feelings aren’t so simple.

“You knew her,” I whisper, trying to find just one shred of regret in him. “You sent her to me after we first met.” He crosses his arms, like that can somehow protect him from the memory. “I knew she came from your village. I thought that might help you adjust a little.” “I still don’t know why you cared. You didn’t even know I was different.”

“You were different to me,” he finally murmurs. “I wonder what could have been, if all this”—I gesture to the palace and the Square beyond—“wasn’t between us.” Let him chew on that. He puts a hand on my arm, his fingers hot through the fabric of my sleeve. “But that can never be, Cal.” I force as much longing as I can into my eyes, relying on the memory of my family, Maven, Kilorn, all the things we’re trying to do. Maybe Cal will mistake my feelings. Give him hope where none should be. It’s the cruelest thing I can do, but for the cause, for my friends, for my life, I will. “Mare,” he breathes, dipping his head toward me. I turn away, leaving him on the balcony to think on my words and, hopefully, drown in them. “I wish things were different,” he whispers, but I can still hear him.

“Julian says you’re like her,” he says quietly, eyes thoughtful. “Like she used to be.” Coriane. His mother. The thought of the dead queen, a person I never knew, somehow makes me sad. She was taken too soon from those she loved, and she left a hole they’re trying to make me fill. And as much as I hate to admit it, I can’t blame Cal for feeling caught between two worlds. After all, so am I.

If we fail, the Bowl of Bones is all I can hope for. But we will not fail. Cal will not let me die, and neither will Maven. They are my shields.

It’s proof the world can change.

“Kilorn wanted you to have this,” she adds, holding out her hand. In it is a tiny green stone, the color of his eyes. An earring. “He said you’d know what it means.” I choke on my words, feeling a great surge of emotion. Nodding, I take the earring from her and raise it to the others. Bree, Tramy, Shade—I know each stone and what they mean. Kilorn is a warrior now. And he wants me to remember him as he was. Laughing, teasing me, sniffing around like a lost puppy. I will never forget that.

When he moves toward me, pushing through the sea, I think I might faint. Suddenly all I can hear is my heartbeat pounding in my ears, drowning out the alarms and the screams. I am afraid. So very afraid. This is just Cal, I tell myself. The boy who loves music and cycles. Not the soldier, not the general, not the prince. The boy. He will always choose you.

With strength I never knew I had, I grab on to the collar of his shirt and somehow it keeps him still. “What if that was the cost?” I toss a glance back to the broken Bridge, now shrouded in smoke and ash. “Nothing but a few tons of concrete. What if I told you that right here, right now, you could fix everything. You could save us.” By the flicker in his eyes, I can see I have his attention. “Don’t,” he protests weakly, one hand grabbing mine. There’s fear in his eyes, more fear than I’ve ever seen. “You said you believed in us once, in freedom. In equality. You can make that real, with one word. There won’t be a war. No one will die.” He seems frozen by my words, not daring to breathe. I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but I press on. I must make him understand. “You hold the power right now. This army is yours, this whole place is yours to take and—and to free! March into the palace, make your father kneel, and do what you know is right. Please, Cal!” I can feel him beneath my hands, his breath coming in quick pants, and nothing has ever felt so real or so important. I know what he’s thinking about—his kingdom, his duty, his father. And me, the little lightning girl, asking him to throw it all away. Something deep down tells me he will. Shaking, I press a kiss to his lips. He will choose me. His skin feels cold under mine, like a corpse. “Choose me,” I breathe against him. “Choose a new world. Make a better world. The soldiers will obey you. Your father will obey you.” M...

I try to explain, still pulling back. But he has no intention of letting me go. “How many people have you killed with your dawn? How many children, how many innocents?” His hand grows hot, hot enough to burn. “How many people have you betrayed?” My knees buckle, dropping out from under me, but Cal doesn’t let go. Dimly, I hear Maven yelling somewhere, the prince charging in to save his princess. But I’m not a princess. I’m not the girl who gets saved. As the fire rises in Cal, flaming behind his eyes, the lightning streaks through me, fed by anger. It shocks between us, throwing me back from Cal. My mind buzzes, clouded by sorrow and anger and electricity. Behind me, Maven yells. I turn just in time to see him shouting back at Farley, gesturing wildly with his hands. “Run! Run!” Cal jumps to his feet faster than me, shouting something to his soldiers. His eyes follow Maven’s call, connecting the dots as only a general can. “The drains!” he roars, still staring at me. “They’re in the drains.”

“How many?” I scream back at him, finding the strength to face him. “How many starved? How many murdered? How many children taken away to die? How many, my prince?” I thought I knew hate before today. I was wrong. About myself, about Cal, about everything. The pain makes my head spin, but somehow I keep my feet, somehow I keep myself from falling. He will never choose me. “My brother, Kilorn’s father, Tristan, Walsh!” What feels like a hundred names explode from me, rattling off all the lost ones. They mean nothing to Cal but everything to me. And I know there are thousands, millions more. A million forgotten wrongs.

“I wish things were different.”

Dimly, I hear Maven cry out before he too is pushed to the ground. “Brother!” he roars, trying to make Cal see what he’s doing. “They’ll kill her! They’ll kill me!”

“Son?” He looks at Cal, and I can see the slightest quiver in his fingers. But what he could possibly fear, I do not know. “I want to hear this from you.” “They’ve been part of this for a long time,” Cal mutters, barely able to say the words. “Since she came here.” “Both?” Tiberias turns away from Cal, to his forgotten son. He looks almost sad, his face pulling into a pained frown. His eyes waver, reluctant to hold his gaze, but Maven stares right back. He will not flinch. “You knew about this, my boy?” Maven nods. “I helped plan it.” Tiberias stumbles, like his words are a physical blow. “And the shooting?” “I chose the targets.” Cal squeezes his eyes shut, like he can block this all out. Maven’s eyes slide past his father, to Elara, who stands close by. They hold each other’s gaze, and for a moment, I think she’s looking into his thoughts. With a jolt, I realize she won’t. She can’t let herself look.

“You told me to find a cause, Father. And I did. Are you proud of me?” But Tiberias rounds on me instead, snarling like a bear. “You did this! You poisoned him, you poisoned my boy!” When tears spring to his eyes, I know the king’s heart, no matter how small or cold, has been broken. He loves Maven, in his own way. But it’s too late for that. “You’ve taken my son from me!” “You have done that yourself,” I say through gritted teeth. “Maven has his own heart, and he believes in a different world as much as I do. If anything, your son changed me.” “I don’t believe you. You have tricked him somehow.” “She does not lie.” Hearing Elara agree with me rips my breath away. “Our son has always thirsted for change.” Her eyes linger on her son. She sounds afraid. “He is just a boy, Tiberias.” Save him, I scream out in my head. She must hear me. She must.

Tiberias looks at his feet, knowing the laws better than anyone else, but Cal is strong enough to meet his brother’s gaze. I can see him remembering their life together. Flame and shadow. One cannot exist without the other.

She’s saving us. For her son’s life, she’s going to save us. We bet on Cal loving me enough to change the world; we should’ve looked to the queen instead. I want to laugh, to smile, but something in Cal’s face keeps my relief at bay. “Julian warned me,” Cal growls, still trying to break her hold. “I thought he was lying about you, about my mother, about what you did to her.”

“Elara, you have to get Maven out of here,” I tell her. “Don’t worry about me, just keep him safe.” “Oh, don’t you fret, little lightning girl,” she sneers. “I don’t think about you at all. Though your loyalty to my son is quite inspiring. Isn’t it, Maven?” She tosses a glance over her shoulder to her son, still shackled. In response, his arms snap out, pulling apart the metal shackles with shocking ease. They melt off his wrists in globs of hot iron, burning holes in the floor. When he rises to his feet, I expect him to defend me, to save me like I’m trying to save him. Then I realize Arven still has hold of me, and the familiar feel of sparks, of electricity, has not returned. He’s still holding me back, even though he let Maven go.

“Maven?” I have to look up to see his face, and for a second, I don’t recognize him. He’s still the same boy, the one who comforted me, kissed me, kept me strong. My friend. More than my friend. But something is wrong in him. Something has changed. “Maven, help me up.” He rolls his shoulders, cracking the bones to chase away an ache. His motions are sluggish and strange, and when he settles back on his feet, hands on his hips, I feel like I’m seeing him for the first time. His eyes are so cold. “No, I don’t think so.” “What?” I hear my voice like it’s coming from someone else. I sound like a little girl. I am just a little girl. Maven doesn’t answer but holds my gaze. The boy I know is still there, hiding, flickering behind his eyes. If I can just reach him—but Maven moves faster than me, pushing me away when I reach out.

I don’t understand at all. I don’t belong here. Julian was right. This is a game I don’t understand, a game I don’t know how to play. I wish Julian were here now, to explain, to help, to save me. But no one is coming. “Maven, please,” I plead, trying to make him look at me. But he turns his back, focusing on his mother and his betrayed blood. He is his mother’s son. She didn’t care that he was in my memories. She didn’t care that he was part of all this. She didn’t even look surprised. The answer is frighteningly simple. Because she already knew. Because he is her son. Because this was her plan all along. The thought stings like knives running along skin, but the pain only makes it more real. “You used me.” Finally, Maven condescends to look back at me. “Catching on, are you?” “You chose the targets. The colonel, Reynald, Belicos, even Ptolemus—they weren’t the Guard’s enemies, they were yours.” I want to tear him apart, lightning or not. I want to make him hurt.

It breaks against me, memories falling into place. I should’ve known, deep down, not to trust Maven. He was too perfect, too brave, too kind. He turned his back on his own to join the Guard. He pushed me at Cal. He gave me exactly what I wanted, and it made me blind.

Nothing hurts more deeply than the hollow look on Maven’s face. “Was anything true?” When he shakes his head, I know that is also a lie. “Even Thomas?” The boy at the war front, the boy who died fighting someone else’s war. His name was Thomas and I saw him die. The name punches through his mask, cracking the facade of cool indifference, but isn’t enough. He shrugs off the name and the pain it causes him. “Another dead boy. He makes no difference.” “He makes all the difference,” I whisper to myself. “I think it’s time to say your good-byes, Maven,” Elara cuts in, putting a white hand on her son’s shoulder. I’ve struck too close to his weak spot, and she won’t let me push further. “I have none,” he whispers, turning back to his father.

Nothing prepares me for what comes next, for what Elara forces her puppets to do. Cal’s hand shakes, reaching forward, pushed along by her will. He tries to resist, struggling with every ounce of strength he has, but it’s no use. This is a battle he does not know how to fight. When his hand closes around the gilded sword, pulling it from the sheath at his father’s waist, the last piece of the puzzle slips into place. Tears course down his face, steaming against burning-hot skin. “It’s not you,” Tiberias says, his eyes on Cal’s wretched face. He doesn’t bother pleading for his life. “I know it’s not you, son. This is not your fault.”

He’s in shock, not understanding, not wanting to understand. But for once, I certainly do. The truth doesn’t matter. It only matters what the people believe. Julian tried to teach me that lesson before, and now I understand it. They will believe this little scene, this pretty play of actors and lies. And no army, no country will follow a man who murdered his father for the crown.

His voice, a voice I used to know so well, seems to chase us through the doors and down the hall. The voices in my head scream with him. Stupid girl. Foolish girl. Look what your hope has done.

Maven has betrayed me. No, he was never on my side at all.

I’m the shadow of the flame. I believed Maven when he said those words, when he told me how much he hated this world. Now I know it was all a trick, a masterful trick. Every word, every touch, every look was a lie. And I thought I was the liar.

There are no words for this. But he stays right there, my last bit of warmth in a world turning to dust. I weep for them all. Farley, Tristan, Walsh, Will. Shade, Bree, Tramy, Gisa, Mom, and Dad. Fighters, all of them. And Kilorn. I couldn’t save him, no matter how hard I tried. I can’t even save myself.

“We both know I could never beat you with ability,” he says, throwing back Cal’s own advice from so long ago. “So I beat you with my head, dear brother.”

He shifts, prowling from Cal’s cell to stand in front of mine. I can only stare at him from the ground, not trusting myself to move. He even smells cold. “Betrothed to a girl with eyes for another, for the brother, the prince no one could ever ignore.” His words take on a feral edge, heavy with a wild anger. But there is truth in them, a harsh truth I’ve tried so hard to forget. It makes my skin crawl. “You took everything that should have been mine, Cal. Everything.”

“I was never yours, and you were never mine, Maven,” I snarl. “And not because of him, either. I thought you were perfect, I thought you were strong and brave and good. I thought you were better than him.”

“Your father loved you, Maven. You didn’t see it, but he did.” “A lie.” “He loved you, and you killed him!” The words come faster, spilling like blood from a vein. “Your brother loved you, and you made him a murderer. I—I loved you. I trusted you. I needed you. And now I’m going to die for it.” “I am king. You will live if I want you to. I will make it so.” “You mean if you lie? One day your lies will strangle you, King Maven. My only regret is I won’t be alive to see it.” And then it’s my turn to grab him. I pull with all my strength, making him stumble against the bars. My knuckles connect with his cheek, and he yelps away like a kicked dog. “I will never make the mistake of loving you ever again.”

“Anyone who knows that we hid you, anyone with even a hint of suspicion, will be dealt with.” My mind buzzes, flying to everyone who knew something about me was strange.

“I’ll make the others scream for you, Mare, every last one. Not just your parents. Not just your siblings. But every single one like you. I’m going to find them, and they will die with you in their thoughts, knowing this is the fate you have brought them. I am the king and you could’ve been my Red queen. Now you are nothing.”

“Good-bye, Maven.” I wish there was more I could say, but there are no words for his evil. He knows what he is, and, worst of all, he likes it.

“Good-bye, Mare.” The smirk is gone, and, to my surprise, his eyes look wet. He hesitates, not wanting to go. It’s like he’s suddenly understood what he’s done and what’s about to happen to all of us. “I told you to hide your heart once. You should have listened.” How dare he. I have three older brothers, so when I spit at Maven, my aim is perfect, hitting him square in the eye.

Many things led to this day, for all of us. A forgotten son, a vengeful mother, a brother with a long shadow, a strange mutation. Together, they’ve written a tragedy.

This started when I fell into the Spiral Garden, a body made of sparks, and now it ends at the Bowl of Bones. I’ll leave as a corpse.