The Colonel looks just like Farley when he smiles.

“Again,” Colonel Farley barks, moving back into position.

“My name is Mare Barrow,” I tell the camera, trying not to sound foolish. After all, this is the sixth time I’ve introduced myself in the last ten minutes. “I was born in the Stilts, a village in the Capital River Valley. My blood is Red, but because of this”—I stretch out my hands, allowing two balls of sparks to rise—“I was brought to the court of King Tiberias the Sixth, and given a new name, a new life, and made into a lie. They called me Mareena Titanos, and told the world I was Silver born. I am not.” Flinching, I draw the knife across my palm, over already torn flesh. My blood winks like rubies in the harsh light of the empty hangar. “King Maven told you this was a trick.” Sparks dance through the gash. “It is not. And neither are the others like me, all of you born Red with strange, Silver abilities. The king knows you exist, and he is hunting you down. I tell you now, run. Find me. Find the Scarlet Guard.”

Next to me, the Colonel straightens proudly. He wears a red scarf around his face, as if his bleeding eye wasn’t identification enough. But I’m not complaining. He’s agreed to take in the newbloods, having seen the error of his ways. He now knows the value—and the strength—of people like me. He can’t afford to make enemies of us too.

“Unlike the Silver kings, we see no division between ourselves and other Reds. We will fight for you, and we will die for you, if it means a new world. Put down the ax, the shovel, the needle, the broom. Pick up the gun. Join us. Fight. Rise, Red as the dawn.”

The next part turns my stomach, and I want to scrub my skin with acid. When my fingers knot in her frayed hair, holding her head up to face the decrepit, sputtering camera, I’m fighting tears. As much as I hate her, I hate this more. It feels against nature, against anything good I might have left inside myself. I’ve already lost Cal—thrown him away—but now I feel I’m losing my soul. And yet I speak the words I must. I believe in them, and they help a little.

“Fight, and win. This is Elara, Queen of Norta, and we have killed her. This war is not impossible, and with you, it can be won for good.”

I hold my position, trying my best not to blink. Tears will fall if I do. I think of anything but the corpse in my hands. “Even now, Guardsmen are leaving their strongholds to wait for anyone to answer our call.”

“Arm yourselves, my brothers and sisters,” the Colonel says, stepping forward. “You outnumber your masters, and they know it. They fear it. They fear you, and what you will become. Look to the Whistles in the woods. They will lead you home.”

After six attempts, we finally finish in perfect unison. “Rise, Red as the dawn.”

“As for the Silvers of Norta.” I speak quickly, tightening my grip on Elara. “Your king and queen have lied to you—and betrayed you. The Scarlet Guard liberated a prison this morning, and inside we found Red and Silvers both. Missing members of House Iral, Lerolan, Skonos, Jacos, and more. Wrongfully imprisoned, tortured with Silent Stone, left to die for nonexistent crimes. They are with us now, and they are alive. Your lost ones live. Rise to help them. Rise to avenge the ones we could not save. Rise, and join us. For your king is a monster.” I glare deep into the camera, knowing he will see this. “Maven is a monster.”

The Colonel gapes at me, affronted. The camera stops. He tears away his scarf in his anger. “What are you doing, Barrow?”

I stare back at him. “I’m making your life a whole lot easier. Divide and conquer, Colonel.” I point to the crew working the camera, not bothering to remember their names. “You go to the Silver barracks, get some film of them. Don’t show the guards. Mark my words. This will set the country on fire, and even Maven won’t be able to put it out.”

They don’t need to speak to show they agree. I turn on my heel. “I’m done.”

The Colonel follows me, dogging my steps even when I push my way out of the hangar. “Barrow, I didn’t say we were finished—” he growls, but when I stop short, so does he. I don’t need lightning to frighten people. Not anymore.

“Make me turn around, Colonel.” I extend my arm, daring him to pull. Daring him to test me. “Go on.”

Once, this man put Cal in a cell. He leads who knows how many soldiers, and killed however many more men. I don’t know how many battles he’s seen, or how many times he’s cheated death.

He has no right to be afraid of a girl like me, but he is. I returned to Tuck his equal, better than his equal, and he knows it.

I spin to face him slowly, and only because it now suits me to do so. “What changed you, Colonel? Because I know it wasn’t your own good sense, or even the orders of your Command.”

After a long, drawn-out moment, he nods. “Follow me. They’ve been asking to meet you.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Tuck seems smaller than I remember, with the three hundred from Corros as well as the Colonel’s own reinforcements clustering all over the island. He leads me past them all, setting a pace I must struggle to match. Many of the new soldiers are Lakelanders, smuggled from the far north like the guns and food streaming in from the docks, but there are a good number of Nortans as well. Farmers, servants, deserters, even some tattooed techies drill in the open space between barracks. Many have come over the last few months. They are the first of many outrunning the Measures, and more will certainly follow. I would smile at the thought, but smiling comes too hard these days. It hurts my scars and my head. Back on the runway, a familiar jet roars, and the Blackrun climbs into the sky. Headed for the Notch, I’ll bet, with Cal at the controls. All the better. I don’t need him skulking around, watching and judging my every move.