“What about Cal’s newest report?” Farley asks Ada. “The Silvers deserting?”
“I included that in my calculations.” She almost sounds annoyed. Almost. Ada has a calmer disposition than any of us. “Seventy-eight are in holding now, under Cal’s protection.”
I put my hands on my hips, setting my weight. “There’s a difference between defection and surrender. They don’t want to join us; they just don’t want to end up dead. They know Cal will show mercy.”
“Would you rather he kill them all? Set everyone against us?” Farley snaps back, turning to me. After a second, she waves a hand dismissively. “There’s over five hundred of them still out there, ready to come back and slaughter us all.”
Ada ignores our jabbering and keeps her vigil. Up until she joined the Scarlet Guard, she was a housemaid to a Silver governor. She’s used to much worse than us. “I see Julian and Sara above the Prayer Gate,” she says.
I feel a squeeze of comfort. When Cal radioed in, he didn’t mention any casualties on his team, but nothing is ever certain. I’m glad Sara is all right. I squint toward the forbidding Prayer Gate, looking for the black-and-gold entry on the east end of the Corvium walls. On top of the parapets, a red flag waves back and forth, barely a glimmer of color against the overcast sky. Ada translates. “They’re signaling for us. Safe passage.”
She glances at Farley, waiting for her order. With the Colonel in the city, she’s the ranking officer here, and her word is good as law. Though she gives no indication of it, I realize she must be weighing her options. We have to cross open ground to get to the gates. It could easily be a trap.
“Do you see the Colonel?”
Good. She doesn’t trust a Silver. Not with our lives.
“No,” Ada breathes. She scans the walls again, her bright eyes taking in every block of stone. I watch her motions as Farley waits, still and stern. “Cal is with them.”
“Fine,” Farley says suddenly, her eyes lividly blue and resolute. “Let’s move out.”
I follow her begrudgingly. As much as I may hate to admit it, Cal isn’t the type to double-cross us. Not fatally, at least. He’s not his brother. I meet Ada’s eyes over Farley’s shoulder. The other newblood inclines her head a little as we walk.
I shove clenched fists into my pockets. If I look like a sullen teenager, I don’t care. That’s what I am: a scared, sullen teenager who can kill with a look. Fear eats me up. Fear of the city—and fear of myself.
I haven’t used my ability outside training in months, not since the magnetron bastards pulled our jet out of the sky. But I remember what it feels like, to use silence as a weapon. In Corros Prison, I killed people with it. Horrible people. Silvers keeping others like me trapped to slowly die. And the memory still makes me sick. I felt their hearts stop. I felt their deaths like they were happening to me. Such power—it frightens me. It makes me wonder what I could become. I think of Mare, the way she ricocheted between violent rage and numb detachment. Is that the price of abilities like ours? Do we have to choose—become empty, or become monsters?
We set out in silence, all of us hyperaware of our precarious position. We stand out sharply in the fresh snow, picking along in one another’s footprints. The newbloods in Farley’s unit are particularly on edge. One of Mare’s own, Lory, leads us with the awareness of a bloodhound, her head whipping back and forth. Her senses are incredibly heightened, so if there’s any imminent attack, she’ll see it, hear it, or smell it coming. After the raid on Corros Prison, after Mare was taken, she started dyeing her hair bloodred. It looks like a wound against the snow and iron sky. I level my gaze on her shoulder blades, ready to run if she so much as hesitates.
Even pregnant, Farley manages to look commanding. She pulls the rifle from her back, holds it in both hands. But she isn’t as alert as the others. Again her eyes slide in and out of focus. I feel a familiar pang of sadness for her.
“Did you come here with Shade?” I ask her quietly.
She snaps her head in my direction. “Why do you say that?”
“For a spy, you’re pretty easy to read sometimes.”
Her fingers drum along the barrel of her gun. “Like I said, Shade is still our main source of information on Corvium. I ran his operation here. That’s all.”
“Sure, Farley.”
We continue on in silence. Our breath mists on the air and the cold sets in, taking my toes first. In New Town we had winter, but never like this. Something to do with the pollution. And the heat from the factories kept us sweating at work, even in the depths of winter.