“I found it,” I tell her. To cement my point, my hands spark up, casting dancing purple light over us.

The darkness seems to shift and members of the Scarlet Guard reveal themselves in menacing order, stepping out from trees and bushes. Their faces are masked with scarves and bandannas, but they don’t hide everything. The tallest one must be Tristan, with his long limbs. I can tell by the way they stand, tense and ready for action, that they’re afraid. But Farley’s face doesn’t change. She knows the people meant to protect her won’t do much against Maven, or even me, but she doesn’t look at all intimidated. To my great surprise, she finally smiles. Her grin is fearsome, full of teeth and a wild hunger.

“We can bomb and burn every inch of this country down,” she murmurs, looking between us with something like pride, “but that will never do the damage you two can do. A Silver prince turning against his crown, a Red girl with abilities. What will people say, when they see you standing with us?”

“I thought you wanted—” Maven starts, but Farley waves the words away.

“The bombings are just a way to get attention. Once we have it, once every Silver in this forsaken country is watching, we need something to show them.” Her gaze turns calculating as she measures us up, weighing us against whatever she has in mind. “I think you’ll do quite nicely.”

My voice trembles, dreading what she might say. “As what?”

“The face of our glorious revolution,” she says proudly, tossing her head back. Her golden hair catches the moonlight. For a second, she seems to wear a sparkling crown. “The drop of water to break the dam.”

Maven nods with fervor.

“So, where do we start?”

“Well, I think it’s time we took a page out of Mare’s book of mischief.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I don’t understand but Maven follows Farley’s line of thought easily.

“My father has been covering up other attacks by the Guard,” he mutters, explaining her plan.

My mind flickers back to Colonel Macanthos and her outburst at luncheon. “The airfield, Delphie, Harbor Bay.”

Maven nods. “He called them accidents, training exercises, lies. But when you sparked up at Queenstrial, even my mother couldn’t talk you away. We need something like that, something no one can hide. To show the world the Scarlet Guard is very dangerous and very real.”

“But won’t that have consequences?” My thoughts flash back to the riot, to the innocent people tortured and killed by a mindless horde. “The Silvers will turn on us, things will get worse.”

Farley looks away, unable to hold my gaze. “And more will join us. More will realize the lives we live are wrong and that something can be done to change it. We’ve stood still for far too long; it’s time to make sacrifices and move forward.”

“Was my brother your sacrifice?” I snap, feeling anger flare within me. “Was his death worth it to you?”

To her credit, she doesn’t try to lie. “Shade knew what he was getting into.”

“And what about everyone else? What about the kids and the elders and anyone who hasn’t signed up for your ‘glorious revolution’? What happens when Sentinels start rounding them up for punishment when they can’t find you?”

Maven’s voice is warm and soft in my ear. “Think of your histories, Mare. What has Julian taught you?”

He taught me about death. The before. The wars. But beyond that, in a time when things could still change, there were revolutions. The people rose, the empires fell, and things changed. Liberty moved in arcs, rising and falling with the tide of time.

“Revolution needs a spark,” I murmur, repeating what Julian would say in our lessons.

Farley smiles. “You should know that better than anyone.”

But I’m still not convinced. The pain of losing Shade, of knowing my parents have lost a child, will only multiply if we do this. How many more Shades will die?

Strangely it’s Maven, not Farley, who tries to sway me.

“Cal believes that change is not worth the cost,” he says. His voice shakes, quivering with nerves and conviction. “And he’s going to rule one day—do you want to let him be the future?”

For once, my answer is easy. “No.”

Farley nods, pleased. “Walsh and Holland.” She jerks her head toward them. “Tell me there’s going to be a little party here.”

“The ball,” Maven offers.

“It’s an impossible target,” I snap. “Everyone will have guards, the queen will know if something goes wrong—”