“I couldn’t care less about my own safety, Prince,” Farley says. “It’s the people in the villages, the workers and the soldiers, who I care about. They’re the ones being punished right now, and harshly.”
My thoughts fly to my family and the Stilts, remembering the dull look in a thousand eyes as we passed. “What have you heard?”
“Nothing good.”
Kilorn’s head jerks up, though his fingers still swirl on the table. “Double work shifts, Sunday hangings, mass graves. It’s not pretty for the ones who can’t keep up the pace.” He’s remembering our village, just like I am. “Our people at the war front say it isn’t much different up there either. The fifteen- and sixteen-year-olds are being put into their own legion. They won’t survive the month.”
His fingers draw an X in the dust, angrily marking what he feels.
“I can stall that, maybe,” Maven says, brainstorming out loud. “If I convince the war council to hold them back, put them through extra training.”
“That’s not enough.” My voice is small but firm. The list seems to burn against my skin, begging to be let free. I turn to Farley. “You have people all over, don’t you?”
I don’t miss the shadow of satisfaction cross her face. “I do.”
“Then give them these names.” I pull Julian’s book from my jacket, opening to the beginning of the list. “And find them.”
Maven gently takes the book, his eyes scanning over it. “There must be hundreds,” he mutters, not looking away from the page. “What is this?”
“They’re like me. Red and Silver, and stronger than both.”
It’s my turn to feel smug. Even Maven’s jaw drops. Farley snaps her fingers and he hands it over without a thought, still staring at the little book that holds such a powerful secret.
“It won’t be long until the wrong person figures this out, though,” I add. “Farley, you must find them first.”
Kilorn glares at the names like they offer him some kind of insult. “This could take months, years.”
Maven huffs. “We don’t have that kind of time.”
“Exactly,” Kilorn agrees. “We need to act now.”
I shake my head. Revolutions cannot be rushed. “But if you wait, if you find as many as you can—you could have an army.”
Suddenly, Maven slaps the table, causing us all to jump. “But we do have one.”
“I have many under my command here, but not that many,” Farley argues, looking at Maven like he’s gone mad.
But he grins, alive with some hidden fire. “If I can get an army, a legion in Archeon, what could you do?”
She just shrugs. “Very little, actually. The other legions would crush them on the field.”
It hits me like a thunderbolt, and I finally realize what Maven is getting at. “But they won’t fight on the field,” I breathe. He turns to me, smiling like a crazed loon. “You’re talking about a coup.”
Farley frowns. “A coo?”
“A coup, a coup d’état. It’s a history thing, a before thing,” I explain, trying to wave off their confusion. “It’s when a small group quickly overthrows a large government. Sound familiar?”
Farley and Kilorn exchange glances, eyes narrowed. “Go on,” she says.
“You know the way Archeon’s built, with the Bridge, the West side, and the East side.” My fingers race along with my words, drawing a rough map of the city in the dust. “Now, the West side has the palace, command, the treasury, the courts, the entire government. And if somehow we can get in there, cut it off, get to the king, and make him agree to our terms—it’s all over. You said it yourself, Maven, you can run the whole country from Caesar’s Square. All we have to do is take it.”
Under the table, Maven pats me on the knee. He’s buzzing with pride. Farley’s usual suspicious look is gone, replaced by real hope. She runs a hand over her lips, mouthing words to herself as she eyes the dust-drawn plan.
“This might just be me,” Kilorn begins, falling back to his usual snide tone, “but I’m not exactly sure how you plan to get enough Reds in there to fight Silvers. You need ten of us to bring down one of them. Not to mention there’s the five thousand Silver soldiers loyal to your brother”—he glances at Maven—“all trained to kill, all trying to hunt us down as we speak.”
I deflate, falling back against the seat. “That could be difficult.” Impossible.
Maven brushes a hand over my dust map, wiping away West Archeon with a few strokes of his fingers. “Legions are loyal to their generals. And I happen to know a girl who knows a general very well.”
When his eyes meet mine, all his fire is gone, replaced now by bitter cold. He smiles tightly.
“You’re talking about Cal.” The soldier. The general. The prince. His father’s son. Again I think of Julian, of the uncle Cal would kill for his twisted version of justice. Cal would never betray his country, not for anything.
When Maven answers, it’s matter-of-fact. “We give him a hard choice.”
I can feel Kilorn’s eyes on my face, weighing my reaction, and it’s almost too much pressure to bear. “Cal will never turn his back on his crown, on your father.”
“I know my brother. If it comes down to it, to saving your life or saving his crown, we both know what he will choose,” Maven fires back.
“He would never choose me.”
My skin burns under Maven’s gaze, with the memory of one stolen kiss. It was him who saved me from Evangeline. Cal who saved me from escaping and bringing more pain upon myself. Cal who saved me from conscription. I’ve been too busy trying to save others to notice how much Cal saves me. How much he loves me.
Suddenly it’s very hard to breathe.
Maven shakes his head. “He will always choose you.”
Farley scoffs. “You want me to pin my entire operation, the entire revolution, on some teenaged love story? I can’t believe this.”
Across the table, a strange look crosses Kilorn’s face. When Farley turns to him, looking for some kind of support, she finds none.
“I can,” he whispers, his eyes never leaving my face.
TWENTY-FIVE
As Maven and I are driven across the Bridge, heading back to the palace after our long day of handshakes and secret plans, I wish the dawn would begin tonight instead of tomorrow morning. I’m intensely aware of the rumble around us while we pass through the city. Everything pulses with energy, from the transports on the streets to the lights woven into steel and concrete. It reminds me of the moment in Grand Garden long ago, when I watched the nymphs play in a fountain or the greenys attend their flowers. In that instant, I found their world beautiful. I understand now why they want to keep it, to maintain their rule over all the rest, but that doesn’t mean I’ll let them.
There’s usually a feast to celebrate the king’s return to his city, but in light of recent events, Caesar’s Square is much quieter than it should be. Maven pretends to lament the lack of spectacle, if only to fill the silence.
“The banquet hall is twice the size of the one at the Hall,” he says as we enter the great gates. I can see part of Cal’s legion drilling at the barracks, a thousand of them marching in time. Their steps beat like a drum. “We used to dance until dawn—at least, Cal did. Girls didn’t ask me to dance much, not unless Cal made them.”