I do as asked, hiding myself seconds before she wrenches open the door.
“Miss Barrow!” I hear him say.
A thousand crowns. I curse under my breath as I walk back to the roadside tavern. Each. Why I picked such an outrageous number, I can’t say. Why I even agreed to see the girl—Shade’s sister, that must have been her—is less puzzling. But telling her I would help? Save her friend, save her from conscription? Two teenagers I don’t know, thieves who would most likely get their ferriers killed? But deep down, I know why. I remember the boy in Rocasta, dragged away from his mother. The same happened to Shade and his two older brothers in front of that girl who begged me tonight. Mare, her name is Mare. She begged for herself and another, her boyfriend most likely. In her voice, I heard and saw so many people. The Rocastan mother. Rasha, stopping to watch. Tye, dying so close to the place she wanted to escape. Cara, Tarry, Shore, Big Coop. All gone, risking their lives and paying the price the Scarlet Guard always seems to collect.
Not that Mare will come up with the money. It was an impossible task. Still, I owe Shade much and more for his service. I suppose getting his sister away from conscription will be a small price to pay for his intelligence. And whatever she does bring me will go straight to the cause.
Tristan joins me midway between the Stilts and the road tavern. I half expected him to be all the way there, waiting with Rasha, Little Coop, and Cristobel, the only remaining members of our ill-fated team.
“Successful?” he asks, carefully adjusting his coat to hide the pistol at his hip.
“Very,” I respond. The word is surprisingly hard to force out.
Tristan knows me well enough not to pry. Instead, he changes the subject and hands over the Corvium radio. “Barrow’s been clicking for the last hour.”
Bored again. I don’t know how many times I’ve told Shade the radio is for official business and emergencies, not to annoy me. Still, I can’t help but grin. I do my best to keep my lips still, at least in front of Tristan, and start fumbling with the radio.
I click the receiver, sending a pulse of seemingly random dots. I’m here, they say.
His response comes so quickly I almost drop the radio.
“Farley, I need out.” His voice crackles, tinny through the small speaker. “Farley? I have to get away from Corvium.”
Panic spikes down my spine. “Okay,” I respond, my mind flying at top speed. “You—you can’t get out yourself?” If not for Tristan, I would ask him outright. Why can’t he jump himself away from that nightmare fortress?
“Meet me in Rocasta.”
“Done.”
THE FOLLOWING MESSAGE HAS BEEN DECODED
CONFIDENTIAL, SENIOR CLEARANCE REQUIRED
Day 56 of Operation RED WEB, Stage 2.
Operative: Captain REDACTED.
Designation: LAMB.
Origin: Rocasta, NRT.
Destination: RAM at REDACTED.
-Congratulations on ARCHEON bombing.
-In ROCASTA to remove SHADOW.
RISE, RED AS THE DAWN
THE FOLLOWING MESSAGE HAS BEEN DECODED
CONFIDENTIAL, SENIOR CLEARANCE REQUIRED
Day 60 of Operation SHIELDWALL, Stage 2.
Operative: Colonel REDACTED.
Designation: RAM.
Origin: REDACTED.
Destination: LAMB at Rocasta.
-Proceed. Send him to TRIAL. Return to RED WEB ASAP.
RISE, RED AS THE DAWN.
It took longer to get here than I anticipated. Not to mention the fact that I came alone.
After the bombing in Archeon, travel is difficult, even through our usual channels. Whistle cargo boats and transports are harder to come by. And getting into cities, even Rocasta, is no mean feat. Reds must present identity cards or even their blood at different checkpoints entering the city, checkpoints I must avoid at all cost. Even though my face was masked, hidden in the video during which I announced the presence of the Scarlet Guard to the entire country, I can’t take any chances.
I even shaved my head, parting with the long blond braid clearly visible in that broadcast.
Crance, the Mariner working the supply convoy, had to smuggle me in, and it took a great amount of back channeling to get him to agree. Even so, I managed to get into the city proper in one piece, my radio firmly tucked into my waistband.
Red sector. Marketgrove.
That’s where Shade wanted to meet, and that’s where I must get to. I don’t dare cover or hood my face, which would give anyone a better clue as to my identity. Instead, I wear shaded glasses, hiding the one part of my face anyone saw in the video. Still, I feel risk in every step. Risk is part of the game. But somehow, my fear isn’t for myself. I’ve done my part, more than my part, for the Scarlet Guard. I could die now and be considered a successful operative. My name would go into someone’s correspondence, Tristan’s probably, clicked out in dots for the Colonel to read.
I wonder if he would mourn.
It’s cloudy today and the mood of the city reflects the weather. And the bombing is on everyone’s lips, in everyone’s eyes. The Reds are a strange mix of hopeful and downcast, some openly whispering about this so-called Scarlet Guard. But many, the old especially, scowl at their children, scolding them for believing our nonsense, telling them it will bring more trouble to their people. I’m not stupid enough to stop and argue.
Marketgrove is deep in the Red sector, but still crawling with Silver Security officers. Today they look like wolves on the prowl, their guns in hand rather than holster. I heard news of riots in the major cities, Silver citizens going after any Reds they could get their hands on, blaming everyone they could for the Scarlet Guard’s deeds. But something tells me these officers aren’t here to protect my people. They only want to instill fear and keep us quiet.
But even they can’t stop the whispers.
“Who are they?”
“The Scarlet Guard.”
“Never heard of the like.”
“Did you see? West Archeon in flames—”
“—but no one was hurt—”
“—they’ll bring more trouble—”
“—worse and worse times—”
“—blaming us for it—”
“I want to find them.”
“Farley.”
The last is a warm breath against the shell of my ear, his voice familiar as my own face. I turn instinctually and pull Shade into a hug, surprising both of us.
“Good to see you too,” he mutters.
“Let’s get you out of here,” I murmur as I pull back. When I look at him properly, I realize the last few weeks have not been kind. His face is pale, his expression drawn, and dark circles ring his eyes. “What happened?”
He tucks my arm in his and I let him lead us through the crowd dutifully walking the market. We look like anyone. “A transfer, to the Storm Legion, to the front.”
“Punishment?”
But Shade shakes his head. “Not for passing information. They still don’t know I’m the leak or that I’m bleeding everything to the Guard. No, this order is strange.”
“Strange how?”
“A general’s request. High up. For me, an aide. It makes no sense. Just like something else doesn’t make any sense.” His eyes narrow pointedly, and I nod. “I think they know, and I think they’re going to get rid of me.”