Glass Sword Page 24

“Strange, isn’t it? For King Maven to leave such a traitor still breathing?” He revels in my surprise. “The way I see it, your Julian was never with you at all. He gave you the list to pass on to us, to send the Guard on a goose chase ending in another trap.”

Anyone can betray anyone. But I refuse to believe that about Julian. I understand enough of him to know where his true loyalties lie—with me, Sara, and anyone who would oppose the queen who killed his sister.

“And even if, if, the list is true, and the names do lead to other”—he searches for the word, not bothering to be gentle—“things like you, then what? Do we dodge the worst agents of the kingdom, hunters better and faster than us, to find them? Do we attempt a mass exodus of the ones we can save? Do we found the Barrow School for Freaks, and spend years training them to fight? Do we ignore everything else, all the suffering, the child soldiers, the executions, for them?” He shakes his head, making the thick muscles on his neck strain. “This war will be over and our bodies cold before we gain a single bit of ground with your proposition.” He glances at Farley, heated. “The rest of Command will say the same, Diana, so unless you wish to play the fool yet again, I suggest you keep quiet about this.”

Each point feels like the blow from a hammer, smashing me down to size. He’s right about some things. Maven will send his best to hunt down and kill the list. He’ll try to keep it secret, which will slow him down, but not by much. We’ll certainly have our work cut out for us. But if there’s even a chance for another soldier like me, like Shade, isn’t it worth the cost?

I open my mouth to tell him just that, but he holds up a hand. “I will hear no more of it, Miss Barrow. And before you make a snide comment about me trying to stop you, remember your oath. You swore to the Scarlet Guard, not your own selfish motives.” He gestures to the room of injured soldiers, all harmed fighting for me. “And if their faces are not enough to keep you in line, then remember your friend and his own position here.”

Cal. “You wouldn’t dare hurt him.”

His bloody eye darkens, swirling with deep crimson the color of rage.

“To protect my own, I certainly would.” The corners of his eyes lift, betraying a smirk. “Just as you did. Make no mistake, Miss Barrow, you have hurt people to serve your own ends, the prince most of all.”

For a moment, it’s like my own eyes have clouded with blood. All I see is red, a livid anger. Sparks rush to my fingertips, dancing just beneath my skin, but I clench my fists, holding them back. When my vision clears, the lights flicker overhead, the only indication of my fury. And the Colonel is gone, having left us to simmer alone.

“Easy there, lightning girl,” Farley murmurs, her voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. “It’s not all bad.”

“Isn’t it?” I bite out through gritted teeth. I want nothing more than to explode, to let my true self out and show these weak men exactly who they’re dealing with. But that would get me a cell at best, a bullet at worst. And I would have to die with the knowledge that the Colonel is correct. I’ve done so much damage already, and always to the people closest to me. For what I thought was right, I tell myself. For the better.

Instead of commiserating, Farley straightens her spine and sits back, watching me seethe. The shamed child she was disappears with shocking ease. Another mask. Her hand strays to her neck, pulling out a gold chain to match the Colonel’s. I don’t have time to wonder about the connection—because something dangles from the necklace. A spiky iron key. I don’t need to ask where the corresponding lock is. Barracks 1.

She tosses it to me blithely, a lazy smile on her face.

“You’ll find I’m remarkably good at giving orders, and particularly awful at following them.”

SEVEN

Kilorn grumbles all the way out of the infirmary and into the concrete yard. He even walks slowly, forcing me to slow down for him. I try to ignore him, for Cal’s sake, for the cause, but when I catch the word foolish for the third time, I have to stop short.

He collides with my back. “Sorry,” he says, not sounding at all apologetic.

“No, I’m sorry,” I spit back, spinning to face him. A little bit of the anger I felt toward the Colonel spills over and my cheeks flush with heat. “I’m sorry you can’t stop being an ass for two minutes so you can see exactly what’s going on here.”

I expect him to shout at me, to match me blow for blow in the usual way. Instead, he sucks in a breath and steps back, working furiously to calm himself.

“You think I’m so stupid?” he says. “Please, Mare, educate me. Show me the light. What do you know that I don’t?”

The words beg to fall out. But the yard is too open, filled with the Colonel’s soldiers, Guardsmen, and refugees hustling back and forth. And while there are no Silver whispers to read my mind, no cameras to watch my every move, I won’t go soft now. Kilorn follows my gaze, eyeing a troop of Guardsmen who jog within a few yards of us.

“You think they’re spying on you?” he all but sneers, dropping his voice to a mocking whisper. “C’mon, Mare. We’re all on the same side here.”

“Are we?” I ask, letting the words sink in. “You heard what the Colonel called me. A thing. A freak.”

Kilorn blushes. “He didn’t mean that.”

“Oh, and you know the man so well?”

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