“When Prince Tiberias killed his father, King Maven acted swiftly, making the only choice he thought he could,” her voice warbles. Next to her, Maven does his best to look sad at the mention of his murdered father. “He was grieving, and we were sentenced to execution in the arena. We escaped with our lives only because of the Scarlet Guard. They took us both to an island stronghold off the Nortan coast.

“I was held prisoner there, as were Prince Tiberias and, I discovered, the brother I thought I’d lost. Like me, he had an ability, and like me, he was feared by the Scarlet Guard. They intended to kill us, the ones they call newbloods. When I discovered that others like me existed, and the Scarlet Guard was hunting them down to exterminate them, I managed to escape with my brother and a few others. Prince Tiberias came with us. I know now that he intended to build himself an army to challenge his brother. After a few months, the Scarlet Guard caught up with us all, and they killed the few abilitied Reds we were able to find. My brother was murdered in the conflict, but I escaped alone.”

For once, the heat in the room isn’t coming from Cal. Everyone boils with rage. This isn’t Mare. These aren’t her words. But still I feel anger as much as the rest. How can she even let this out of her mouth? I’d spit blood before speaking Maven’s lies. But what choice does she have?

“With nowhere else to go, I turned myself in to King Maven and whatever justice he saw to give me.” Her resolve breaks piece by piece, until tears course down her cheeks. I’m ashamed to say they help her little speech more than anything else. “I stand here now a willing prisoner. I am sorry for what I’ve done, but I am ready to do whatever I can to stop the Scarlet Guard and their terrifying hope for the future. They stand for no one but themselves and the people they can control. They kill everyone else, everyone who stands in their way. Everyone who is different.”

The last words stick, refusing to come out. On the throne, Maven sits still, but his throat works a little. Emitting a noise the camera cannot hear, urging her to finish as he demands.

Mare Barrow raises her chin and glares forward. Her eyes seem black with rage. “We, the newbloods, are not fit for their dawn.”

Shouts and protests erupt through the room, hurling obscenities at Maven, at the Merandus whisper, even at the lightning girl for speaking the words.

“—vile beast of a king—”

“—would rather kill myself than say—”

“—barely a puppet—”

“—traitor, plain and simple—”

“—not her first time singing their song—”

Kilorn is the first to break, both hands curling into fists. “You think she wanted to do this?” he says, his voice loud enough to carry, but not harsh. His face reddens with frustration, and Cal puts a hand on his shoulder, standing with him. It silences more than a few, particularly the younger officers. They look embarrassed, apologetic, even, shamed by the reprimand of an eighteen-year-old boy.

“Quiet, all of you!” the Colonel rumbles, shutting up the rest. He turns once to glare with his mismatched eyes. “The brat is still speaking.”

“Colonel . . . ,” Cal growls. His tone is a threat plain as day.

In reply, the Colonel points on-screen. At Maven, not Mare.

“. . . offer refuge to any fleeing the terror of the Scarlet Guard. And to the newbloods among you, hiding from what seems to be little more than genocide, my own doors are open. I have instructed the royal palaces of Archeon, Harbor Bay, Delphie, and Summerton, as well as the military forts of Norta, to protect your kind from slaughter. You will have food, shelter, and, if you wish it, training for your abilities. You are my subjects to protect, and I will do it with every resource I have to give. Mare Barrow is not the first of you to join us, and she will not be the last.” He has the smug audacity to lay a hand on her arm.

So this is how barely more than a boy becomes a king. He’s not only ruthless and remorseless, but just plain brilliant. If not for the rage curling in me, I would be impressed. His ploy will cause problems for the Guard, of course. Personally, I’m more concerned with the newbloods still out there. We were recruited to Mare and her rebellion with little choice in the matter. Now there’s even less. The Guard or the King. Both see us as weapons. Both will get us killed. But only one will keep us in chains.

I glance over my shoulder, seeking out Ada. Her eyes are glued to the screen, effortlessly memorizing every tick and inflection to be scrutinized later. Like me, she frowns, thinking about the deeper worry no member of the Scarlet Guard has yet. What will happen to the people like us?

“To the Scarlet Guard, I say only this,” Maven adds, standing up from his throne. “Your dawn is little more than darkness, and it will never take this country. We fight to the last. Strength and power.”

On the dais, and across the rest of the throne room, the chant echoes from every mouth. Including Mare’s. “Strength and power.”

The image holds for a second, burning the sight into every brain. Red and Silver, the lightning girl and King Maven, united against the great evil they’ve made us out to be. I know it isn’t Mare’s choice, but it is her fault. Didn’t she realize he would use her if he didn’t kill her?

She didn’t think he would do it. Cal said that before, about her interrogation. They are both weak where Maven is concerned, and that weakness continues to plague us all.

Back at the Notch, Mare did her best to school me in my ability. I practice here when I can, together with the other newbloods learning their limits. Cal and Julian Jacos attempt to help, but I and many others are loath to trust their tutelage. Besides, I’ve found someone else to help me.