Red Queen (25 page)

Cal leaves them both behind, not bothering to watch as a skin healer appears to fix them up. He saved me, he brought me home, he broke the rules for me. And he’s a merciless soldier, the heir to a bloody throne.

Cal’s blood might be silver, but his heart is black as burned skin.

When his eyes trail to mine, I force myself to look away. Instead of letting his warmth, his strange kindness confuse me, I commit the inferno to memory.
Cal is more dangerous than all of them put together. I cannot forget that.

“Evangeline, Andros,” Arven clips, nodding at the pair of them. Andros deflates, almost annoyed at the prospect of fighting—and losing—to Evangeline, but dutifully trudges into the arena. To my surprise, Evangeline doesn’t budge.

“No,” she says boldly, planting her feet.

When Arven whirls to her, his voice rises above his usual whisper and it cuts like a razor. “I beg your pardon, Lady Samos?”

She turns her black eyes on me, and her gaze is sharp as any knife.

“I challenge Mareena Titanos.”

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

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SEVENTEEN

“Absolutely not,”
Maven rumbles. “She’s only been training for two weeks, you’ll cut her apart.”

In response, Evangeline just shrugs, letting a lazy smirk rise to her features. Her fingers dance against her leg and I can almost feel them like claws across my skin.

“So what if she does?” Sonya breaks in, and I think I see a gleam of her grandmother in her eye. “The healers are here. There’ll be no harm done. Besides, if she’s going to train with us, she might as well do it properly, right?”

No harm done
, I scoff in my head.
No harm but my blood exposed for all to see.
My heartbeat thumps in my head, quickening with every passing second. Overhead, the lights shine brightly, illuminating the ring; my blood will be hard to hide and they’ll see me for what I am. The Red, the liar, the thief.

“I’d like some more time observing before I get in the ring, if you don’t mind,” I reply, trying my best to sound Silver. Instead, my voice quavers. Evangeline catches it.

“Too scared to fight?” she goads, lazily flicking a hand. One of her knives, a little thing like a tooth of silver, circles her wrist slowly in open threat. “Poor little lightning girl.”

Yes
, I want to scream.
Yes, I am scared.
But Silvers don’t admit things like that. Silvers have their pride, their strength—and nothing else. “When I fight, I intend to win,” I say instead, throwing her words back in her face. “I’m not a fool, Evangeline, and I cannot win yet.”

“Training outside the ring can only get you so far, Mareena,” Sonya purrs, latching onto my lie with glee. “Don’t you agree, Instructor? How can she ever expect to win if she doesn’t try?”

Arven knows there’s something different about me, a reason for my ability and my strength. But what that is, he cannot fathom, and there’s a glint of curiosity in his eye. He wants to see me in the ring as well. And my only allies, Cal and Maven, exchange worried glances, wondering how to proceed across such shaky ground.
Didn’t they expect this? Didn’t they think it would come to this?

Or maybe this is what I’ve been headed for all along. An accidental death in Training, another lie for the queen to tell, a fitting death for the girl who doesn’t belong. It’s a trap I willingly stepped into.

The game will be over. And everyone I love will have lost.

“Lady Titanos is the daughter of a dead war hero and you can do nothing but tease her,” Cal growls, throwing daggered glances at the girls. They barely seem to notice, almost laughing at his poor defense. He might be a born fighter, but he’s at a loss when it comes to words.

Sonya is even more incensed, her sly nature taking hold. Whereas Cal is a warrior in the ring, she is a soldier of speech, and twists his words with frightening ease. “A general’s daughter should do well in the ring. If anything, Evangeline should be afraid.”

“She wasn’t raised by a general, don’t be foolish—,” Maven sneers. He’s much better at this sort of thing, but I cannot let him win my battles. Not with these girls.

“I will not fight,” I say again. “Challenge someone else.”

When Evangeline smiles, her teeth white and sharp, my old instincts ring in my head like a bell. I barely have time to drop as her knife burns through the air, cutting through the spot where my neck was seconds before.

“I challenge you,” she snaps, and another blade flies at my face. More rise from her belt, ready to cut me to ribbons.

“Evangeline, stop—,” Maven shouts, and Cal pulls me to my feet, his eyes alive with worry. My blood sings, coursing with adrenaline, my pulse so loud I almost miss his whispered words.

“You’re faster. Keep her on the run.
Don’t be afraid.
” Another knife blazes by, this time digging into the ground at my feet. “Don’t let her see you bleed.”

Over his shoulder, Evangeline prowls like a predatory cat, a glittering storm of knives in her fist. In that instant, I know nothing and no one will stop her. Not even the princes. And I cannot give her the chance to win.
I cannot lose.

A bolt of lightning escapes me, streaking through the air at my command. It hits her in the chest and she staggers back, colliding with the outer wall of the arena. But instead of looking angry, Evangeline regards me with glee.

“This will be quick, little lightning girl,” she snarls, wiping away a trickle of silverblood.

All around, the other students draw back, glancing between the two of us. This could be the last time they see me alive.
No
, I think again.
I cannot lose.
My focus intensifies, deepening my sense of power until it’s so strong I hardly notice the walls shifting around us. With a click, Provos re-forms the arena, locking us in together, a Red girl and a smiling Silver monster.

She grins across at me, and razor-thin pieces of metal peel off the floor, shaped to her will. They curl and shudder and scrape into a living nightmare. Her usual blades are gone, tossed aside for a new tactic. The metal things, creatures of her mind, skitter across the floor to stop at her feet. Each one has eight razored legs, sharp and cruel. They quiver as they wait to be released, to cut me apart.
Spiders
. A horrible crawling sensation prickles my skin, like they’re already upon me.

Sparks come to life in my hands, dancing between my fingers. The lights flicker as the energy in the room bleeds into me like water soaking into a sponge. Power races through me, driven by my own strength—and by need.
I will not die here.

On the other side of the wall, Maven smiles, but his face is pale, afraid. Next to him, Cal doesn’t move. A soldier doesn’t blink until the battle is won.

“Who has the advantage?” Instructor Arven asks. “Mareena or Evangeline?”

No one raises a hand. Not even Evangeline’s friends. Instead, they stare between us, watching our abilities grow.

Evangeline’s smile fades into a sneer. She’s used to being favored, to being the one everyone’s afraid of. And now she’s angrier than ever.

Again, the lights flicker on and off, as my body hums like an overloaded wire. In the flashing darkness, her spiders scrabble over the floor, their metal legs clanging in terrible harmony.

And then all I know is fear and power and the surge of energy in my veins.

Darkness and light explode back and forth, plunging us both into a strange battle of flickering color. My lightning bursts through the darkness, streaking purple and white as it shatters through spiders at every turn. Cal’s advice echoes in my head and I keep moving, never sticking to one spot on the floor long enough for Evangeline to hurt me. She weaves through her spiders, dodging my sparks as best she can. Jagged metal tears at my arms, but the leather suit holds firm. She’s fast, but I’m faster, even with spiders clawing around my legs. For a second, her infuriating silver braid passes through my fingertips, before she’s out of reach again. But I’ve got her on the run.
I’m winning.

I hear Maven through the shriek of metal and cheering classmates, roaring for me to finish her. The lights flash, making her hard to spot, but for a brief moment, I feel what it’s like to be one of them. To feel strength and power absolutely, to know you can do what millions can’t. Evangeline feels like this every day, and now it’s my turn.
I’ll teach you what it’s like to know fear.

A fist slams against the small of my back, shooting pain through the rest of my body. My knees buckle with the agony, sending me to the ground. Evangeline pauses above me, her smile surrounded by a messy curtain of silver hair.

“Like I said,” she snarls. “Quick.”

My legs move on their own, swinging out in a maneuver I’ve used in the back alleys of the Stilts a hundred times. Even on Kilorn once or twice. My foot connects with her leg, sweeping it out from under her, and she crashes to the floor next to me. I’m on her in a second, despite the exploding pain in my back. My hands crackle with hot energy, even as they collide against her face. Pain sears through my knucklebones but I keep going, wanting to see sweet silverblood.

“You’ll wish it was quick,” I roar, bearing down on her.

Somehow, through her bruising lips, Evangeline manages to laugh. The sound melts away, replaced by metallic screeching. And all around us, the fallen, electrified spiders twitch to life. Their metal bodies re-form, weaving together at the seams, into a ruinous, smoking beast.

It skitters with surprising speed, knocking me off her. I’m the one pinned now, looking up at the heaving, twisting shards of metal. The sparks die in my hands, driven away by fear and exhaustion.
Even the healers won’t be able to save me after this.

A razor leg drags across my face, drawing red, hot blood. I hear myself scream, not in pain, but defeat.
This is the end.

And then a blazing arm of fire knocks the metal monster off me, burning it into nothing more than a charred black pile of ash. Strong hands pull me to my feet, and then go to my hair, pulling it across my face to hide the red mark that could betray me. I turn in to Maven, letting him walk me from the training room. Every inch of me shakes, but he keeps me steady and moving. A healer comes my way, but Cal heads him off, blocking my face from his sight.

Before the door slams behind us, I hear Evangeline yelling and Cal’s usually calm voice yelling right back, roaring over her like a storm.

My voice breaks when I finally speak again. “The cameras, the cameras can see.”

“Sentinels sworn to my mother man the cameras, trust me, they aren’t what we should be worrying about,” Maven says, almost tripping over his words. He keeps a tight grip on my arm, like he’s afraid I might be pulled away from him. His hand ghosts over my face, wiping away the blood with his sleeve.
If anyone sees
. . .

“Take me to Julian.”

“Julian’s a fool,” he mutters.

Figures appear at the far end of the hall, a pair of roaming nobles, and he pushes us down a service passage to avoid them.

“Julian knows who I am,” I whisper back, grabbing onto him. As his grip tightens, so does mine. “Julian will know what to do.”

Maven looks down on me, conflicted, but finally nods. By the time we reach Julian’s quarters, the bleeding has stopped, but my face is still a mess.

He opens the door on the first knock, looking his usual haphazard self. To my surprise, he frowns at Maven.

“Prince Maven,” he says, bending into a stiff, almost insulting bow. Maven doesn’t respond, only pushes me past Julian into the sitting room beyond.

Julian has a small set of rooms, made smaller by darkness and stale air. The curtains are drawn, blotting out the afternoon sun, and the floor is slippery with loose stacks of paper. A kettle simmers in the corner, on an electric piece of metal meant to replace a stove. No wonder I never see him outside of Lessons; he appears to have everything he needs right here.

“What’s going on?” he asks, waving us to a pair of dusty chairs. Obviously he doesn’t entertain much. I take a seat, but Maven refuses, still standing.

I draw aside my curtain of hair, revealing the shining red flag of my identity. “Evangeline got carried away.”

Julian shifts, uncomfortable on his own two feet. But it’s not me making him squirm; it’s Maven. The two glare at each other, at odds over something I don’t understand. Finally, he turns his gaze back on me. “I’m not a skin healer, Mare. The best I can do is clean you up.”

“I told you,” Maven says. “He can’t do anything.”

Julian’s lip curls into a snarl. “Find Sara Skonos,” he snaps, his jaw tightening as he waits for Maven to move. I’ve never seen Maven this angry, not even with Cal. But then, it’s not anger spilling out from Maven or Julian—it’s
hate
. They absolutely despise each other.

“Do it,
my prince.
” The title sounds like a curse coming from Julian’s lips.

Maven finally concedes, and slips out the door.

“What’s that all about?” I whisper, gesturing between Julian and the door.