DEDICATIONTo my grandparents, here and there. You are always home. CONTENTS1. Dedication2. One3. Two4. Three5. Four6. Five7. Six8. Seven9. Eight10. Nine11. Ten12. Eleven13. Twelve14. Thirteen15. Fourteen16. Fifteen17. Sixteen18. Seventeen19. Eighteen20. Nineteen21. Twenty22. Twenty-One23. Twenty-Two24. Twenty-Three25. Twenty-Four26. Twenty-Five27. Twenty-Six 28. Twenty-Seven29. Twenty-Eight30. Twenty-Nine31. Epilogue32. Acknowledgments33. Excerpt from Queen Song34. Excerpt from Steel Scars35. Back Ads36. About the Author37. Books by Victoria Aveyard38. Credits39. Copyright40. About the Publisher ONEI flinch. The rag she gives me is clean, but it still smells like blood. Ishouldn’t care. I already have blood all over my clothes. The red is mine, ofcourse. The silver belongs to many others. Evangeline, Ptolemus, thenymph lord, all those who tried to kill me in the arena. I suppose some of itis Cal’s as well. He bled freely on the sand, cut and bruised by our would-beexecutioners. Now he sits across from me, staring at his feet, letting hiswounds begin the slow process of healing naturally. I glance at one of themany cuts on my arms, probably from Evangeline. Still fresh, and deepenough to leave a scar. Part of me delights in the thought. This jagged gashwill not be magically wiped away by a healer’s cold hands. Cal and I arenot in the Silver world anymore, with someone to simply erase our well-earned scars. We have escaped. Or at least, I have. Cal’s chains are a firmreminder of his captivity.Farley nudges my hand, her touch surprisingly gentle. “Hide your face,lightning girl. It’s what they’re after.”For once, I do as I’m told. The others follow, pulling red fabric up overtheir mouths and noses. Cal is the last uncovered face, but not for long. Hedoesn’t fight Farley when she ties his mask into place, making him look likeone of us.If only he was.An electric hum sets my blood on fire, reminding me of the pulsing,screeching Undertrain. It carries us inexorably forward, to a city that wasonce a haven. The train races, screaming over ancient tracks like a Silverswift running over open ground. I listen to the grating metal, feel it deep inmy bones where a cold ache settles in. My rage, my strength back in thearena seem like faraway memories, leaving behind only pain and fear. I canscarcely imagine what Cal must be thinking. He’s lost everything,everything he ever held dear. A father, a brother, a kingdom. How he’sholding himself together, still but for the rocking of the train, I do not know.No one needs to tell me the reason for our haste. Farley and herGuardsmen, tense as coiled wire, are enough explanation for me. We arestill running. Maven came this way before, and Maven will come again. This time withthe fury of his soldiers, his mother, and his new crown. Yesterday he was aprince; today he is king. I thought he was my friend, my betrothed, now Iknow better.Once, I trusted him. Now I know to hate him, to fear him. He helped killhis father for a crown, and framed his brother for the crime. He knows theradiation surrounding the ruined city is a lie—a trick—and he knows wherethe train leads. The sanctuary Farley built is no longer safe, not for us. Notfor you.We could already be speeding into a trap.An arm tightens around me, sensing my unease. Shade. I still can’tbelieve my brother is here, alive and, strangest of all, like me. Red andSilver—and stronger than both.“I won’t let them take you again,” he murmurs, so low I can barely hearhim. I suppose loyalty to anyone but the Scarlet Guard, even family, is notallowed. “I promise you that.”His presence is soothing, pulling me backward in time. Past hisconscription, to a rainy spring when we could still pretend to be children.Nothing existed but the mud, the village, and our foolish habit of ignoringthe future. Now the future is all I think of, wondering what dark path myactions have set us upon.“What are we going to do now?” I direct the question at Farley, but myeyes find Kilorn. He stands at her shoulder, a dutiful guardian with aclenched jaw and bloody bandages. To think he was a fisherman’sapprentice not so long ago. Like Shade, he seems out of place, a ghost of atime before all this.“There’s always somewhere to run,” Farley replies, more focused on Calthan anything else.She expects him to fight, to resist, but he does neither.“You keep your hands on her,” Farley says, turning back to Shade after along moment. My brother nods, and his palm feels heavy on my shoulder.“She cannot be lost.”I am not a general or a tactician, but her reasoning is clear. I am the littlelightning girl—living electricity, a lightning bolt in human form. Peopleknow my name, my face, and my abilities. I am valuable, I am powerful,and Maven will do anything to stop me from striking back. How my brothercan protect me from the twisted new king, even though he is like me, even though he’s the fastest thing I’ve ever seen, I do not know. But I mustbelieve, even if it seems a miracle. After all, I have seen so manyimpossible things. Another escape will be the least of them.The click and slide of gun barrels echo down the train as the Guardmakes ready. Kilorn shifts to stand over me, swaying slightly, his grip tighton the rifle slung across his chest. He glances down, his expression soft. Hetries to smirk, to make me laugh, but his bright green eyes are grave andafraid.In contrast, Cal sits quietly, almost peaceful. Though he has the most tofear—chained, surrounded by enemies, hunted by his own brother—helooks serene. I’m not surprised. He’s a soldier born and bred. War issomething he understands, and we are certainly at war now.“I hope you don’t plan to fight,” he says, speaking for the first time inmany long minutes. His eyes are on me, but his words bite at Farley. “Ihope you plan to run.”“Save your breath, Silver.” She squares her shoulders. “I know what wehave to do.”I can’t stop the words from bursting out. “So does he.” The glare sheturns on me burns, but I’ve dealt with worse. I don’t even flinch. “Calknows how they fight, he knows what they’ll do to stop us. Use him.”How does it feel to be used? He spit those words at me in the prisonbeneath the Bowl of Bones and it made me want to die. Now it barelystings.She doesn’t say anything, and that is enough for Cal.“They’ll have Snapdragons,” he says grimly.Kilorn laughs aloud. “Flowers?”“Airjets,” Cal says, his eyes sparking with distaste. “Orange wings, silverbodies, single pilot, easy to maneuver, perfect for an urban assault. Theycarry four missiles each. Times one squadron, that’s forty-eight missilesyou’re going to have to outrun, plus light ammunition. Can you handlethat?”He’s met only with silence. No, we can’t.“And the Dragons are the least of our worries. They’ll just circle, defenda perimeter, keep us in place until ground troops arrive.”He lowers his eyes, thinking quickly. He’s wondering what he would do,if he were on the other side of this. If he were king instead of Maven.“They’ll surround us and present terms. Mare and I for your escape.” Another sacrifice. Slowly, I suck in a breath. This morning, yesterday,before all this madness, I would have been glad to give myself over to savejust Kilorn and my brother. But now . . . now I know I am special. Now Ihave others to protect. Now I cannot be lost.“We can’t agree to that,” I say. A bitter truth. Kilorn’s gaze weighs heavy,but I don’t look up. I can’t stomach his judgment.Cal is not so harsh. He nods, agreeing with me. “The king doesn’t expectus to give in,” he replies. “The jets will bring the ruins down on us, and therest will mop up the survivors. It will be little more than a massacre.”Farley is a creature of pride, even now when she’s terribly cornered.“What do you suggest?” she asks, bending over him. Her words dripdisdain. “Total surrender?”Something like disgust crosses Cal’s face. “Maven will still kill you. In acell or on the battlefield, he won’t let any of us live.”“Then better we die fighting.” Kilorn’s voice sounds stronger than itshould, but there’s a tremble in his fingers. He looks like the rest of therebels, willing to do anything for the cause, but my friend is still afraid. Stilla boy, no more than eighteen, with too much to live for, and too little reasonto die.Cal scoffs at Kilorn’s forced but brazen declaration, yet he doesn’t sayanything else. He knows a more graphic description of our impending deathwon’t help anyone.Farley doesn’t share his sentiment and waves a hand, dismissing both ofthem outright. Behind me, my brother mirrors her determination.They know something we don’t, something they won’t say yet. Mavenhas taught us all the price of trust misplaced.“We are not the ones who die today,” is all she says, before marchingtoward the front of the train. Her boots sound like hammer falls on themetal flooring, each one smacking of stubborn resolve.I sense the train slow before I feel it. The electricity wanes, weakening,as we glide into the underground station. What we might find in the skiesabove, white fog or orange-winged airjets, I do not know. The others don’tseem to mind, exiting the Undertrain with great purpose. In their silence,the armed and masked Guard looks like true soldiers, but I know better.They’re no match for what is coming.“Prepare yourself.” Cal’s voice hisses in my ear, making me shiver. Itreminds me of days long past, of dancing in moonlight. “Remember how strong you are.”Kilorn shoulders his way to my side, separating us before I can tell Calmy strength and my ability are all I’m sure of now. The electricity in myveins might be the only thing I trust in this world.I want to believe in the Scarlet Guard, and certainly in Shade and Kilorn,but I won’t let myself, not after the mess my trust, my blindness towardMaven got us into. And Cal is out of the question altogether. He is aprisoner, a Silver, the enemy who would betray us if he could—if he hadanywhere else to run.But still, somehow, I feel a pull to him. I remember the burdened boywho gave me a silver coin when I was nothing. With that one gesture hechanged my future, and destroyed his own.And we share an alliance—an uneasy one forged in blood and betrayal.We are connected, we are united—against Maven, against all who deceivedus, against the world about to tear itself apart.Silence waits for us. Gray, damp mist hangs over the ruins of Naercey,bringing the sky down so close I might touch it. It’s cold, with the chill ofautumn, the season of change and death. Nothing haunts the sky yet, no jetsto rain destruction down upon an already destroyed city. Farley sets a briskpace, leading up from the tracks to the wide, abandoned avenue. Thewreckage yawns like a canyon, more gray and broken than I remember.We march east down the street, toward the shrouded waterfront. Thehigh, half-collapsed structures lean over us, their windows like eyeswatching us pass. Silvers could be waiting in the broken hollows andshadowed arches, ready to kill the Scarlet Guard. Maven could make mewatch as he struck rebels down one by one. He would not give me theluxury of a clean, quick death. Or worse, I think. He would not let me die atall.The thought chills my blood like a Silver shiver’s touch. As much asMaven lied to me, I still know a small piece of his heart. I remember himgrabbing me through the bars of a cell, holding on with shaking fingers.And I remember the name he carries, the name that reminds me a heart stillbeats inside him. His name was Thomas and I watched him die. He couldnot save that boy. But he can save me, in his own twisted way.No. I will never give him the satisfaction of such a thing. I would ratherdie. But try as I might, I can’t forget the shadow I thought him to be, the lostand forgotten prince. I wish that person were real. I wish he existedsomewhere other than my memories.The Naercey ruins echo strangely, more quiet than they should be. With astart, I realize why. The refugees are gone. The woman sweeping mountainsof ash, the children hiding in drains, the shadows of my Red brothers andsisters—they have all fled. There’s no one left but us.“Think what you want of Farley, but know she isn’t stupid,” Shade says,answering my question before I get a chance to ask. “She gave the order toevacuate last night, after she escaped Archeon. She thought you or Mavenwould talk under torture.”She was wrong. There was no need to torture Maven. He gave hisinformation and his mind freely. He opened his head to his mother, lettingher paw through everything she saw there. The Undertrain, the secret city,the list. It is all hers now, just like he always was.The line of Scarlet Guard soldiers stretches out behind us, a disorganizedrabble of armed men and women. Kilorn marches directly behind me, hiseyes darting, while Farley leads. Two burly soldiers keep Cal on her heels,gripping his arms tensely. With their red scarves, they look like the stuff ofnightmares. But there are so few of us now, maybe thirty, all walkingwounded. So few survived.“There’s not enough of us to keep this rebellion going, even if we escapeagain,” I whisper to my brother. The low-hanging mist muffles my voice,but he still hears me.The corner of his mouth twitches, wanting to smile. “That’s not yourconcern.”Before I can press him, the soldier in front of us halts. He is not the onlyone. At the head of the line, Farley holds up a fist, glaring at the slate-graysky. The rest mirror her, searching for what we cannot see. Only Cal keepshis eyes on the ground. He already knows what our doom looks like.A distant, inhuman scream reaches down through the mist. This sound ismechanical and constant, circling overhead. And it is not alone. Twelvearrow-shaped shadows race through the sky, their orange wings cutting inand out of the clouds. I’ve never seen an airjet properly, not so close orwithout the cover of night, so I can’t stop my jaw from dropping when theycome into view. Farley barks orders at the Guard, but I don’t hear her. I’mtoo busy staring at the sky, watching winged death arc overhead. Like Cal’s cycle, the flying machines are beautiful, impossibly curved steel and glass. Isuppose a magnetron had something to do with their construction—howelse can metal fly? Blue-tinged engines spark beneath their wings, thetelltale sign of electricity. I can barely feel the twinge of them, like a breathagainst skin, but they’re too far away for me to affect. I can only watch—inhorror.They screech and twist around the island of Naercey, never breaking theircircle. I can almost pretend they’re harmless, nothing but curious birdscome to see the obliterated remnants of a rebellion. Then a dart of graymetal sails overhead, trailing smoke, moving almost too fast to see. Itcollides with a building down the avenue, disappearing through a brokenwindow. A bloom of red-orange explodes a split second later, destroying theentire floor of an already crumbling building. It shatters in on itself,collapsing onto thousand-year-old supports that snap like toothpicks. Theentire structure tips, falling so slowly the sight can’t be real. When it hitsthe street, blockading the way ahead of us, I feel the rumble deep in mychest. A cloud of smoke and dust hits us head-on, but I don’t cower. It takesmore than that to scare me now.Through the gray-and-brown haze, Cal stands with me, even while hiscaptors crouch. Our eyes meet for a moment, and his shoulders droop. It’sthe only sign of defeat he’ll let me see.Farley grabs the nearest Guardsman, hoisting her to her feet. “Scatter!”she shouts, gesturing to the alleys on either side of us. “To the north side, tothe tunnels!” She points to her lieutenants as she speaks, telling them whereto go. “Shade, to the park side!” My brother nods, knowing what shemeans. Another missile careens into a nearby building, drowning her out.But it’s easy to tell what she’s shouting.Run.Part of me wants to hold my ground, to stand, to fight. My purple-and-white lightning will certainly make me a target and draw the jets away fromthe fleeing Guard. I might even take a plane or two with me. But that cannotbe. I’m worth more than the rest, more than red masks and bandages. Shadeand I must survive—if not for the cause, then for the others. For the list ofhundreds like us—hybrids, anomalies, freaks, Red-and-Silverimpossibilities—who will surely die if we fail.Shade knows this as well as I do. He loops his arm into mine, his grip sotight as to be bruising. It’s almost too easy to run in step with him, to let