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It takes all my strength not to snap at these cowards who will never see the front lines or send their children to fight. Their Silver war is being paid for in Red blood.
He leaves me at the edge of the village, letting me walk through the stilt houses alone. Something about the mud and shadows makes Cal uncomfortable, and he disappears before I get a chance to look back and thank the strange servant.
vibrations still, deep in the mechanism, waiting to be switched back on. I lose myself in trying to find the electricity, to bring it back and prove that even one small thing can go right in a world so wrong. Something sharp meets my fingertips, making my body jolt. An exposed wire or faulty switch, I tell myself. It feels like a pinprick, like a needle spiking in my nerves, but the pain never follows. Above us, the porch light hums to life. “Well, fancy that,” Dad mutters.
“Red as the dawn . . .” the letter reads. There it is, plain as the nose on my face. Farley’s words from her video, the Scarlet Guard’s rallying cry, in my brother’s handwriting. The phrase is too strange to ignore, too unique to brush off. And the next sentence, “see the sun rise stronger . . .” My brother is smart but practical. He doesn’t care about sunrises or dawns or witty turns of phrase. Rise echoes in me, but instead of Farley’s voice in my head, it’s my brother speaking. Rise, red as the dawn. Somehow, Shade knew. Many weeks ago, before the bombing, before Farley’s broadcast,
Shade knew about the Scarlet Guard and tried to tell us. Why? Because he’s one of them.
Walsh.
“The Prince Maven, of House Calore and Merandus, son of my royal wife, the Queen Elara.”
“And the crown prince of House Calore and Jacos, son of my late wife, the Queen Coriane, heir to the Kingdom of Norta and the Burning Crown, Tiberias the Seventh.” I’m too busy laughing at the sheer absurdity of the name to notice the young man waving and smiling. Finally I raise my eyes, just to say I was this close to the future king. But I get much more than I bargained for. The glass goblets in my hands drop, landing harmlessly in the sink of water.
know that smile, and I know those eyes. They burned into mine only last night. He got me this job; he saved me from conscription. He was one of us. How can this be? And then he turns fully, waving all around. There’s no mistaking it. The crown prince is Cal.
i knew it.
But when Provos takes his seat again, the change is still not done. The hum of electricity rises until it crackles all around, making the hairs on my arms stand up. A purple-white light blazes near the floor of the garden, sparking with energy from tiny, unseen points in the stone. No Silver stands up to command it, like Provos did with an arena. I realize why. This is not some Silver’s doing but a wonder of technology, of electricity. Lightning without thunder. The beams of light crisscross and intersect, weaving themselves into a brilliant, blinding net. Just looking at it hurts my eyes,
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He doesn’t strike me for speaking out of turn, though he has every right to. Instead, the officer’s face twitches into the shadow of a smile. “I guess you’ll find out,” he says, black eyes soft. “I’m Lucas Samos. Follow me.”
All together you are poor, rude, immoral, unintelligent, impoverished, bitter, stubborn, and a blight upon your village and my kingdom.”
“What Father is trying to say is that she represents an opportunity for us,” Cal says, cutting in to explain. Unlike his brother, Cal’s voice is strong and authoritative. It’s the voice of a king. “If the Reds see her, a Silver by blood but Red by nature, raised up with us, they can be placated. It’s like an old fairy tale, a
commoner becoming the princess. She’s their champion. They can look to her instead of terrorists.” And then, softer, but more important than anything else: “She’s a distraction.” But this isn’t a fairy tale, or even a dream. This is a nightmare. I’m being locked away for the rest of my life, forced into being someone else. Into being one of them. A puppet. A show to keep people happy, quiet, and trampled. “And if we get the story right, the High Houses will be satisfied too. You’re the lost daughter of a war hero. What better honor can we give you?” I meet his eyes, silently pleading. He
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With my newly pale skin and darkened eyes and lips, I look cold, cruel, a living razor. I look Silver. I look beautiful. And I hate it.
How long will this last? Betrothed to a prince. Even in my head, it sounds crazy. Because it is. No Silver in their right mind would marry you, let alone a prince of Norta. Not to calm rebellion, not to hide your identity, not for anything. Then why do this?
When the maids pinch and pull me into a gown, I feel like a corpse being dressed for her funeral. I know it’s not far from the truth. Red girls do not marry Silver princes. I will never wear a crown or sit on a throne. Something will happen, an accident maybe...
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The colors of Titanos, my name, must be purple and silver.
“I came to apologize, something I can’t really do with an audience.” He stops short, noting my discomfort. A muscle twitches in his cheek as he looks me over, probably remembering the hopeless girl who tried to pickpocket him only last night. I look nothing like her now. “I’m sorry for getting you into this, Mare.” “Mareena.” The name even tastes wrong. “That’s my name, remember?” “Then it’s a good thing Mare’s a suitable nickname.” “I don’t think anything about me is suitable.” Cal’s eyes rake over me, and my skin burns under his gaze. “How do you like Lucas?” he finally says, taking an
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I was born at the war front. My parents were killed in an attack on the camp. A Red soldier saved me from the rubble and brought me home to a wife who always wanted a daughter. They raised me in the village called the Stilts, and I was ignorant of my birthright or my ability until this morning. And now I am returned to my rightful place.
The Titanos family were oblivions, she says, her voice all around. They could explode things with a touch, like the Lerolan girl did at Queenstrial. When I try to remember the girl, Elara projects an image of her directly into my brain. It flashes, barely there, but still I see a young girl in orange blow up rock and sand like military bombs. Your mother, Nora Nolle, was a storm like the rest of House Nolle. Storms control the weather, to an extent. It’s not common, but their union resulted in your unique abilities to control electricity. Say no more, if anyone asks. What do you really want
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Red in the head, Silver in the heart sticks with me, guiding my motions. My eyes stay wide, taking in the grand palace both Mare and Mareena had never dreamed of, but my mouth presses into a firm line. Mareena is impressed, but she keeps her emotions in check. She is cold and unfeeling.
different outfits of red and black, both decorated with military medals. Cal stands to his father’s right, his face still and impassive. If he knows who he’s going to marry, he doesn’t look happy about it. Maven’s there too, on his mother’s left, his face a storm cloud of emotions. The younger brother is not as good as Cal at hiding his feelings. At least I won’t have to deal with a good liar.
He turns to Elara, who clasps the king’s hand in her own with a dutiful smile. Her shift from devilish villain to blushing queen is astounding. “We all remember our bright hope against the darkness of war, our captain, our friend, the General Ethan Titanos,” Elara says.
People murmur over the room, in fondness or sadness. Even the Samos patriarch, Evangeline’s cruel father, bows his head. “He led the Iron Legion to victory, pushing back the lines of war that had stood for nearly a hundred years. The Lakelanders feared him; our soldiers loved him.” I strongly doubt a single Red soldier loved their Silver general. “Lakelander spies killed our beloved friend Ethan, sneaking across the lines to destroy our one hope for peace. His wife, the Lady Nora, a good and just woman, died with him. On that fateful day sixteen years ago, House Titanos was lost. Friends were
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“Get in my way and I’ll kill you slowly, little lightning girl,” she mutters through her smile. Little lightning girl. The nickname is really starting to get on my nerves. To cement her point,
If there was ever a person begging for an elbow to the face, it is Evangeline Samos.
Small and insignificant. Then why do they need me? Why use me, if the Scarlet Guard is nothing to them? The king is a liar. But what he’s trying to hide, I’m still not sure. It could be the Guard’s strength. It could be me. It’s probably both.
The words trip over my tongue, feeling foreign in my mouth. Cal stares down at me, watching me chant along with all the others. In that moment, I hate myself. “Strength and power.”
Instead, I’m stuck in a room full of people who would kill me if they knew the truth. And the royals of course, who would kill me if they could, who probably will kill me one day. They’ve pulled me inside out, swapping Mare for Mareena, a thief for a crown, rags for silk, Red for Silver. This morning I was a servant, tonight I’m a princess. How much more will change? What else will I lose?
But suddenly, I’m very aware of the buzz in this room. Or lack thereof. This entire day I’ve felt the electrical weight of cameras, so much that I’ve stopped noticing. Until now, when I don’t feel it at all. It’s gone. I can feel the lights still pulsing with electricity, but no cameras. No eyes. Elara cannot see me here. “Why isn’t anyone watching us?” He only blinks at me. “So there is a difference,” he mutters. What that means I don’t know, and it infuriates me. “Why?” “Mare, I’m here to teach you your histories, to teach you how to be Silver and how to be, ah, useful,” he says, his
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“There’s no need for that,” he continues, noting my fear. “I have no plans of alerting anyone to your heritage.” The relief I feel is short-lived, shifting into another kind of fear. “Why? What do you want from me?” “I am, above all things, a curious man. And when you entered Queenstrial a Red servant and ran out some long-lost Silver lady, I have to say I was quite curious.” “Is that why there aren’t any cameras in here?” I bristle, backing away from him. My fists clench, and I wish the lightning would come to protect me from this man. “So there’s no record of you examining me?” “There are no
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“Julian Jacos, at your service.” He sweeps into a comically low bow. “Head of House Jacos, heir to nothing more than a few old books. My sister was the late queen Coriane, and Prince Tiberias the Seventh, Cal as we all call him, is my nephew.”
Julian follows my train of thought. “You’re wrong, Mare. You don’t understand the power you have now, how much you could control.” He clasps his hands behind his back, oddly tight. “The Scarlet Guard are too drastic for most, too much too fast. But you are the controlled change, the kind people can trust. You are the slow burn that will quench a revolution with a few speeches and smiles. You can speak to the Reds, tell them how noble, how benevolent, how right the king and his Silvers are. You can talk your people back into their
chains. Even the Silvers who question the king, the ones who have doubts, can be convinced by you. And the world will stay the same.” To my surprise, Julian seems disheartened by this. Without the buzzing cameras, I forget myself and my face curls into a sneer. “And you don’t want that? You’re a Silver, you should hate the Scarlet Guard—and me.”
“You gave off twice what I recorded before,” he says proudly, but I don’t see why it matters at all. With a quick dip, he switches off the spark box, as I’ve taken to calling it. I can feel the electricity in it die away. “Try again.” Huffing, I focus again. After a moment of concentration, my sparks return, just as strong as before. But this time they come from within me. Julian’s grin splits his face from ear to ear. “So . . . ?” “So this confirms my suspicions.” Sometimes I forget Julian is a scholar and a scientist. But he’s always quick to remind me. “You produced electrical energy.” Now
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“No, I thought your ability was the power to manipulate, not create,” he says, his voice dropping gravely. “No one can create, Mare.” “But that doesn’t make sense. The nymphs—”
“Manipulate water that already exists. They can’t use what isn’t there.” “Well, what about Cal? Maven? I don’t see many raging infernos around for them to play with.” Julian smiles, shaking his head. “You’ve seen their bracelets, yes?” “They always wear them.” “The bracelets make sparks, little tiny flames for the boys to control. Without something to start the fire, they are powerless. All elementals are the same, manipulating metal or water or plant life that already exists. They’re only as strong as their surroundings. Not like you, Mare.” Not like me. I’m not like anyone. “So what does
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until Lucas or, worse, the Sentinels, find me. I just need to breathe. I just need to see the ...
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“Where’s Shade?”
no. he’s part of the rebellion. no way he’s dead.
“You’re dead if you don’t.”
fuck. they really did. that is horrible. 😭
But she busies herself with the food. Then, to my great surprise, she mouths five words to me. They are words I’m beginning to know like a prayer—or a curse. Rise, Red as the dawn.
He notes my discomfort, frowning a little. When he speaks, his voice is low and fast, as if he doesn’t want to be overheard. “I don’t have the luxury of questions,” he mutters. His black eyes bore into mine, full of meaning. “And neither do you.”
through me. His voice is suddenly melodic, humming with deep, soothing vibrations. Exhaling, I realize he’s right. “It doesn’t matter,” I repeat. Even though he isn’t speaking, the echo of Julian’s voice still hangs in the air like a calming breeze. “So, what are we working on today?”
He takes the accusation in stride, shifting his attention back to his book. “No, I’m not. I have nowhere near her strength. Or her brutality.” He heaves a sigh, explaining. “We’re called singers. Or at least we would be, if there were any more of us. I’m the last of my house, and the last of, well, my kind. I can’t read minds, I can’t control thoughts, I can’t speak in your head. But I can sing—as long as someone hears me, as long as I can look into their eyes—I can make a person do as I wish.” Horror bleeds through me. Even Julian.
“They hated her because we were from a low house, because we didn’t have strength or power or any other silly thing those people uphold,” Julian rails on, still looking away. His shoulders heave with each breath. “And when my sister became queen, she threatened to change all that. She was kind, compassionate, a mother who could raise Cal to be the king this country needed to unite us all. A king who wouldn’t be afraid of change. But that never came to be.” “I know what it’s like
“They killed my sister too. She stood in the way, and she was removed. And”—his voice drops—“they’ll do it again, to anyone they have to. Even Cal, even Maven, and especially you.”
“Maven.” I don’t know whether to scream or run when I see
“I wish it was jealousy that drove me here,” Maven murmurs. “I spent three years in the barracks, following Cal and officers and generals, watching soldiers fight and die for a war no one believed in. Where Cal saw honor and loyalty, I saw foolishness. I saw waste. Blood on both sides of the dividing line, and your people gave so much more.”
the frozen north. He didn’t know me on sight, not like everyone else, but he treated me just fine. He treated me like a person. I think he was my first real friend.” Maybe it’s a trick of the moonlight, but something like tears glimmer in his eyes. “His name was Thomas, and I watched him die. I could’ve saved him, but my guards held me back. His life wasn’t worth mine, they said.” Then the tears are gone, replaced by clenched fists and an iron will. “Cal calls this the balance, Silver over Red. He’s a good person, and he’ll be a just ruler, but he doesn’t think change is worth the cost,” he
