“The WUN is in danger of collapsing.” The general just comes out and says it. I’ve always appreciated his bluntness, but now it makes my stomach clench. He’s as good as told me that we’re all dead men here. “The eastern hemisphere is much larger than we are; nuclear warfare has crippled our numbers and our economy. We’re not going to last much longer.”

All this information I’d pieced together on my own. I just don’t understand why General Kline is telling me this.

I nod and glance at my father. He won’t look at me.

“It’s time to think about peace and what’s best for our people.”

My eyes widen. Now I think I do know what he’s talking about. The representatives want to forge the terms of surrender.

A sick feeling twists my gut. I already know the general’s next words before he says them.

“As the emissary of the WUN, your father is expected to go to Geneva, where the peace talks are to be held.” The general pauses. “And as your father’s apprentice, we think it’s best that you go along with him.”

I swallow; my eyes sting. Our leaders always come back in body bags after visiting the king. And we can’t do anything about it. The WUN has tried to assassinate him dozens of times, but somehow he always survives. The Undying King, as some call him.

My death sentence just got bumped a little sooner. As did my father’s.

I look at my dad again, and I can see his eyes are red, his face anguished. I place a hand on his forearm and squeeze it. At least we’d be going in together. I prefer that to him going alone.

I turn back to General Kline. “I accept whatever duties are required of me.”

A muscle in my father’s forearm jerks beneath my hand. It’s the only indication that this situation is tearing him up. I’m all he has left; he’s all I have left. The thought of losing the last person in the world that loves you is terrifying. But no one in this room has the luxury of being selfish.

General Kline smiles grimly. “Good.” He glances down at the paper in front of him. “You and your father will be representing the entire WUN.”

What he means is that Canada and Central America are too splintered to send someone over. And the political infighting in South America makes them too fragmented to attempt this.

“We’ve already contacted our correspondences overseas as well as the king’s retinue,” General Kline continues.

I curl my lip at the term retinue. The king has people who wait on him hand and foot while we starve.

“They are expecting our arrival in Geneva on Wednesday.”

“So soon?” I manage to get out. That’s three days from now.

The general’s eyes move to mine, and they flash like my fear disappoints him. I can’t help it. The king is the boogey man; no weapon scares me as much as that deceptively charming face of his.

“You will be filmed,” he says, ignoring my question. “The world will be watching. This means you must tread lightly. If you do well, you’ll boost the morale of our citizens. If you or your father are killed, it will prove to the world just how vulnerable we are.”

His words make me lightheaded. I’d assumed that death was the worst outcome, but no. The worst outcome is that we never get the chance to work on a peace agreement between the two hemispheres. We’ve heard stories of the conquered lands. There’s a reason we’ve waited this long to surrender.

“Ignore your normal routine starting today. Lisa will swing by your room in an hour to get you fitted for some appropriate garments. Tomorrow you’ll be boarding the jet for Geneva. Try to get some rest before then.”

This is what I’ve been preparing to do ever since I became my father’s apprentice. Forge alliances. I’ve learned a lot of useful skills, but I’ve never had the opportunity to implement them as I do now. And now the fate of the entire western hemisphere depends on my father’s and my ability to negotiate with the enemy.

Chapter 2

Serenity

Nine years ago I watched my mother die. That was also the day I received the scar that runs from the corner of my eye down my cheek, a permanent tear for all the souls the war has claimed.

At the time the eastern hemisphere had just fallen and the new king had set his sights on the west. In the wake of oncoming war, my father started working nonstop, leaving my mother and me to keep each other company.

That Saturday morning was just like any other. I laid under our coffee table flipping through a magazine, while my mom sat on the couch reading.

The only indication that something was about to happen was the trembling ground beneath me. I heard Mom’s mug rattle on the glass side table next to her.

My mother’s gaze met mine. Even then we knew enough about the war to immediately think the worst. But never had the enemy attacked civilians on our own soil.

A whine started up, distant at first. The sound got louder.

“Serenity, get down!” My mother lunged for me.

She wasn’t fast enough.

The whine cut out, and for the briefest of moments, all was quiet. Then our front yard lit up, the windows shattered. A howling, fiery blast tore through the house, throwing my mother forward.

That was all I saw before the force of the explosion blasted the coffee table away from me and I tumbled, my body a ragdoll. Debris sliced against my skin, none so deep as the gash across my face.

Other than those cuts and what I later found out was a fractured wrist and several bruised ribs, I survived the explosion unscathed. Sheer providence kept me from further harm.