I SCREAMED WITH THEM and the lights flashed, then flickered, before going out.

One minute of darkness. That’s what I have to give them. Screams, shouts, chaotic footsteps almost broke my concentration, but I forced myself to concentrate. The lights flickered uncontrollably, then went out completely, making it nearly impossible to move. Giving my friends a chance to escape.

“In the alcoves!” a voice roared, shouting amidst the melee. “They ran away!” More voices joined the call, though none of them sounded familiar. But in this chaos, everyone sounds different. “Find them!” “Stop them!” “Kill them!”

The Sentinels on the landing aimed their weapons while more appeared to be flashing by, only shadowy figures as they busily ran in pursuit. Walsh was with them, I reminded myself. If Walsh and the other servants could sneak Farley and Kilorn in before, they could certainly sneak them out again. They can hide. They can free themselves. They will be fine.

My darkness will save them.

Flames burst from the crowd, tearing through the air like fiery snakes. Rumbling overhead, lighting up the dim hall. Flickering shadows painted the walls and faces looked up, turning the dance hall into a nightmare of red light and gunpowder. Sonya screamed near me, bending over Reynald’s body. The swift old Ara struggled to free his body from the body, pulling it away from the chaos. Reynald’s eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, reflecting the red light.

I persisted, every muscle in me hardening and tensing.

Somewhere near the fire, I found the king’s guards rushing to protect him from the room. The king tried to fight them, screaming and screeching to stay in place, but for once they did not obey his orders. Elara is nearby, pushed by Maven as they flee from danger. More followed, wanting to quickly break free from this place.

The Security officers ran against the flow, flooding the room with screams and the stomping of boots. The noble men and women pushed me around in an attempt to escape, but I could only stay where I was, holding on as hard as I could. No one tried to pull me away; no one paid attention to me at all. They are scared. Even with their strength, their power, they still know the meaning of fear. And just a few bullets were enough to cause terror in them.

A woman who was crying hit my body, knocking me down. I landed face to face with a corpse, staring at Colonel Macanthos’ scar. Silver blood dripped from his face, from his forehead to the floor. The bullet holes were odd, surrounded by gray, rocky flesh. He is a stone skin man . He lived long enough to try to stop it, to protect himself. But the bullets could not be stopped. He’s still dead.

I pushed myself away from the woman’s corpse, but both my hands slipped into the mixture of silver blood and wine. A scream escaped me in a horrifying mix of frustration and sorrow. The blood stuck to my hands, as if it knew what I had done. It was sticky, cold, and everywhere, trying to drown me.

“MARE!”

Strong arms pulled my body from the floor, dragging me away from the woman I let die. “Mare, please—,” the voice was crying, but for what reason, I didn’t understand.

With a roar of frustration, I lost this fight. The lights came back on, revealing a war zone between silk and death. When I tried to stand up, to make sure the action was really over, a hand pushed me back down.

I said the words I had to, played my part in all of this. “I’m sorry—the lights—I couldn’t—” Above us, the lights came back on.

Cal barely heard me and fell to his knees beside me. “Where did you get shot?” he groaned, checking me out

the way I know he’s been trained. His fingers felt my arms and legs, searching for a wound, the source of so much blood.

My voice sounds strange. Weak. Damaged. “I’m fine.” Again he didn’t hear me. “Cal, I’m fine.”

Relief flooded his face, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me again. But his senses recovered faster than mine. “Are you sure?”

Carefully, I lifted my silver-stained sleeve. “How could this be my blood?”

My blood is not this color. You know that.

He nodded. “Of course,” he whispered. “I just—I saw you lying down there and I thought…” His words trailed off, replaced by the terrible sadness in his eyes. But it faded quickly, turning into determination. “Lucas! Get him out of here!”

My personal guard charged through the commotion, his rifle at the ready. Even though he looked the same in his boots and uniform, this wasn’t the Lucas I knew. His black eyes, Samos’ eyes , were as dark as night. “I’ll take him to the others,” he growled, lifting me up.

Even though I knew better than anyone that the danger had passed, I couldn’t help but reach for Cal. “How about you?”

He slipped out of my grip with incredible ease. “I won’t run away.”

Then he turned around, his shoulders squared towards the group of Sentinels. Cal stepped over the bodies, head tilted toward the ceiling. A Sentinel threw a gun

at him, and he caught it deftly, putting his finger on the trigger. His other hand lit up, crackling with dark, deadly flames. As a silhouette amidst the Sentinels and the bodies lying on the floor, he looked like a completely different person.

“Let’s go hunting,” he growled, charging up the stairs. The Sentinels and Security officers followed, like a cloud of red-and-black smoke trailing the flames. They left the dance hall bloodstained, fogged with dust and screams.

In the middle of it all lay the body of Belicos Lerolan, pierced not by a bullet but by a silver spear. Fired from a spear launcher, such as those used to catch fish. A torn red scarf fell from the hilt of her spear, only fluttering limply in the gust of wind. There was a symbol imprinted on it—a torn sun.

Then the ballroom disappeared, swallowed by the dark walls of the servants’ passage. The floor shook beneath our feet and Lucas pushed me against the wall, shielding me. A sound like thunder resounded and the ceiling shook, spilling rock fragments on us. The door behind us exploded inward, destroyed by flames. Beyond it, the dance hall was surrounded by black smoke. An explosion.

“Cal—” I tried to break away from Lucas, to run back the way we came, but he held my body. “Lucas, we have to help him!”

“Trust me, bombs won’t hurt the prince,” he growled, encouraging me to keep moving forward.

“Bomb?” That wasn’t part of the plan . “Was that a bomb?”

Lucas pulled himself away from me, his body shaking with anger. “Did you see that bloody red scarf? This is the Red Front in action and that ”—he pointed back towards the hall, still dark and burning—“that’s what they really are.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” I muttered to myself, trying to remember every part of the plan. Maven never told me there was a bomb. Never . And Kilorn wouldn’t let me do this, not if he knew I’d be in danger. They wouldn’t do this to me.

Lucas raised his rifle, his voice a growl. “Murderers don’t need to make sense.”

My breath caught in my throat. How many people are left there? How many children, how many unnecessary deaths?

Lucas took my silence as shock, but he was wrong.

What I feel right now is anger.

Everyone can betray anyone.

Lucas led me down to the basement, through more than three doors, each one thirty inches thick and made of steel. The doors had no locks, but he opened them with a flick of his hand. It reminded me of the first time I met him, when he stretched the bars of my cell.

I heard the others before I saw them, their voices echoing off the metal walls as they spoke to each other. The king cursed, his words made my whole body

shiver. His figure seemed to fill the bunker room as he paced back and forth, his cloak billowing behind him.

“I want them to be found immediately. I want them brought before me with knives in their backs, and I want them to sing like cowardly birds!” He summoned a Sentinel, but the masked woman did not move an inch. “I want to know what really happened !!!”

Elara sat in a chair, one hand over her heart, the other holding Maven tightly.

Maven exclaimed when he saw me. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, pulling me in for a short hug.

“Just shaken.” I finally said, trying to communicate as much as I could. However, with Elara so close, I couldn’t even let myself think, let alone speak. “There was an explosion after the gunfire. A bomb.”

Maven frowned, confused, but quickly covered it with anger. “Bastard.”

“Barbaric,” the King of Tiberias hissed through his gritted teeth. “And what about my son?”

My gaze moved to Maven, before I realized the king didn’t mean Maven at all. Maven responded lightly. He was used to being sidelined.

“Cal went after the shooters. He brought a group of Sentinels with him.” The memory of him, dark and angry as a raging fire, terrifies me. “Then the hall exploded. I don’t know how many are still—still there.”

“Is there anything else, darling?” Coming from Elara, the term affection feels like an electric shock. He looked paler than usual, his breathing shallow. He was scared. “Is there anything else you remember?”

“There was a banner, caught on a spear. “The Red Front is the perpetrator.”

“Is that true?” he said, raising an eyebrow. I fought the urge to back away, to run from him and his whispers. At any time he could creep into my head, pulling out the truth.

Instead, Elara removed her gaze and turned to the king. “Do you see the results of your actions?” His lips curled over his teeth. Under the light, its teeth looked like shiny fangs.

“I? You were the one who called Barisan small and weak, you were the one who lied to our people.” Tiberias snapped back at him. “Your actions have weakened us in the face of danger, not me.”

“And if you can deal with this while you have the chance, while they are still small and weak, this will never happen!”

They attacked each other like hungry dogs, each trying to get a bigger bite.

“Elara, they weren’t terrorists at that time. I couldn’t waste my soldiers and officers hunting down a handful of Reds who wrote pamphlets. They are harmless.”

Slowly, Elara pointed at the ceiling. “Does it seem harmless to you?” He couldn’t answer her, and Elara smiled, happy to win the argument. “One day you guys

men will learn to pay attention, and the whole world will shake. They are the seeds of disease if you just leave them alone. And it’s time to kill this plague before it spreads.”

He rose from his chair, calming himself. “They are the Red Devils, and they certainly have allies within our own walls.” I tried my best to be quiet, my eyes glued to the floor. “I think I’ll talk to the servants for a moment. Officer Samos, open the door.”

Lucas’ attention immediately alerted, opening the steel door for the queen. Elara stepped out, two Sentinels trailing, like an angry storm. Lucas went with him, opening the heavy doors one by one, each one clanging farther and farther. I don’t want to know what the queen will do to the servants, but I know it will hurt and I know she won’t find anything. Walsh and Holland have escaped with Farley, according to our plan. They knew things would be too dangerous for them after the party—and they were right.

The thick metal of the door closed for a moment, only to open again. Another magnetron figure directs it: Evangeline . She looked disheveled in her ball gown, her jewelry broken and looking menacing. Worst of all were his eyes; wild, wet and smeared with black makeup. Ptolemus. He cried for his dead brother. Even though I said to myself that I didn’t care, I had to resist the urge to reach out and comfort him. However, that feeling

immediately passed when the figure accompanying him entered the bunker at the back.

There was smoke and soot on his skin, dirtying his otherwise clean uniform. Normally I would be worried looking at Cal’s wild, hateful eyes, but something else sent fear into my bones. Blood stained his black uniform and dripped down his hands. The color is not silver. Red. Blood is red.

“Mare,” he said to me, but all the warmth was gone. “Come with me. Now.”

His words were directed at me but everyone else followed, weaving through the halls as he guided us towards the cells. My heart pounded in my chest, threatening to explode out of my body. Don’t Kilorn. Anyone but not him . Maven put his hands on my shoulders, holding me close to him. At first I thought he was trying to calm me down, but then he jerked me back: he was trying to keep me from running away.

“You should have killed him straight away,” Evangeline said to Cal. His fingers touched the red blood on his shirt. “I will not leave the Red Devil alive.”

He . My teeth bit my lip, holding my mouth closed so I wouldn’t say something stupid. Maven’s hands tighten like claws on my shoulders and I can feel his pulse racing. This could have been the end of our game. Elara would come back and scramble their brains, searching amidst the rubble to discover how deep their plot went.

The journey to the cell room was the same but felt farther, stretching into the deepest parts of the Hall. A dungeon appeared to greet us, and there were at least six Sentinels standing guard there. A sharp chill ran through my bones, but I didn’t shiver. I could barely move.

Four people stood in the cell, each bleeding and injured. Despite the dim light, I know them all. Walsh’s eyes were tightly closed, but he looked fine. Unlike Tristan, who leaned against the wall to relieve the pressure on his bloodied legs. There was a makeshift bandage wrapped around the wound, apparently torn from Kilorn’s shirt. Relief washed over me when I saw that Kilorn appeared unharmed. He supported Farley with his arm, letting her stand against his body. His shoulder blade was loose, one arm hanging at an odd angle. However, that didn’t stop him from throwing a mocking smile at us. He even spat through the bars, the mixture of blood and saliva landing on Evangeline’s feet.

“Pull out his tongue for that,” Evangeline barked, lunging for the bars. But he stopped his actions, one hand hit the metal bars. Even though Evangeline could rip through the bars with the power of thought, tearing apart the cell and the people inside, she controlled herself.

Farley held his gaze, barely blinking in the face of the attack. If this was indeed the end of his life, he would obviously face it with his head held high. “A bit too rude for a princess.”

Before Evangeline could lose control, Cal pulled her body away from the bars. Slowly, Cal raised his hand, pointing. “You.”

With a terrible jolt, I realized he was pointing at Kilorn. A muscle twitched in Kilorn’s cheek, but he fixed his gaze on the floor.

Cal remembered himself. From the night he walked me home.

“Mare, explain this.”

I opened my mouth, expecting some fantastic lie to come out, but no words came.

Cal’s gaze darkened. “He is your friend. Explain this .” Evangeline gasped and directed her fury at me.

“You brought him here!” he screamed, lunging at me. “You did this?!”

“I am not doing anything.” I stuttered, feeling all the eyes in the room on me. “I mean, I did give him a job position here. Previously he worked in a logging yard and the work was very hard, very hard

—” The lies tumbled out of me, each lie quicker than the last. “He was—he was a friend of mine, back in the village. I just want to make sure he’s in good condition. I gave him a job as a waiter, just like—” My eyes move to Cal. We both remember the first night we met, and the day that followed. “I thought I had done him a favor.”

Maven took a step closer to the cell, looking at our friends as if it was the first time he was seeing them. He

pointing at their red uniforms. “It looks like they’re just servants.”

“I would also think the same. However, we found them trying to escape through the drain pipe,” Cal growled. “It took us some time to drag them out.”

“Is that all?” asked the King of Tiberias, glancing past the cell bars.

Cal shook his head. “There were more ahead, but they made it to the river. How many, I don’t know.”

“Then let’s find out,” Evangeline said, her eyebrows raised. “Call the queen. And for a time…” He turned to the king. Behind his beard, the king smiled slightly and nodded.

I don’t need to ask to know what they think. Torture.

The four prisoners stood firm, not even flinching. Maven’s jaw moved frantically as he tried to think of a way out of this situation, but he realized there wasn’t one. It could be that this may be more than we could hope for. If they succeed in lying. But how can we ask them? How could we possibly watch them scream, while we stood our ground?

Kilorn seemed to have an answer for me. Even in this terrible place, his green eyes could still shine. I’ll lie for you.

“Cal, I leave this task to you,” the king said, placing his hand on his son’s shoulder. I can only stare intently,

pleaded with wide eyes, praying that Cal wouldn’t give in to his father’s demands.

Cal glanced at me once, as if that could somehow count as an apology. Then he turned to a Sentinel, shorter than the others. His eyes flashed grey-white behind his mask.

“Sentinel Gliacon, I feel like I need some ice.”

I had no idea what that meant, but Evangeline giggled in amusement. “Good choice.”

“You don’t need to see this,” Maven muttered, trying to pull me away, but I couldn’t leave Kilorn. Not now. I angrily broke away, my eyes still on my friend.

“Let him stay,” said Evangeline, taking pleasure in my anxiety. “This will teach him not to treat the Reds as friends.” He turned back to the cell, opening the bars with a wave of his hand. With one of her white fingers, she pointed. “Starting with him. He must be crushed.”

The Sentinels nodded and caught Farley’s wrist, pulling him out of the cell. The bars slid back behind him, trapping the others inside. Walsh and Kilorn rushed to the bars, both looking very scared.

The sentinel forced Farley to his knees, awaiting further orders. “Sir?”

Cal moved to stand in front of her, taking a deep breath. He seemed to hesitate before speaking, but his voice was firm. “How many of you are there?”

Farley’s jaw tightened, his teeth clenched. He would die before he spoke.

“Start with the arm.”

The sentinel was not gentle, twisting Farley’s injured arm. Farley yelped in pain, but still didn’t say a word. It took all my effort not to attack the Sentinel.

“Even though you call us barbarians.” Kilorn spat, his forehead pressing against the bars.

Slowly, Sentinel tore off Farley’s blood-soaked sleeves and touched his hands to his skin. Farley screamed at the touch, but I didn’t know why.

“Where are the others?” Cal asked, kneeling down to look her in the eyes. Farley was silent for a moment, taking shallow breaths. Cal leaned forward, patiently waiting for her to give in.

Instead, Farley lunged forward, his head slamming into Cal with all his strength. “We are everywhere.” He laughed, but screamed again as Sentinel continued his torture.

Cal is recovering well, one hand now on his broken nose. Anyone else might have attacked back, but not him.

Red prick dots appeared on Farley’s arm, around the touch of Sentinel’s hand. They grew with each passing second, sharp, shiny red patches sticking straight out of his now bluish skin. Sentinel Gliacon. Gliacon Clan . My mind drifted back to the Protocols, to the lessons about clans. Freezer.

Stumbling, I understood and had to look away.

“It’s blood,” I whispered, unable to look back. “He froze his blood.” Maven just nodded, his eyes gloomy and full of sadness.

Behind us, the Sentinel continued to work, trailing along the top of Farley’s arm. Razor-sharp drops of frozen red pierced his flesh, slicing every nerve with pain I couldn’t imagine. Farley’s breath whistled through gritted teeth. Still he didn’t say a word. My heart pounded as the seconds ticked by, wondering when the queen would return, wondering when our charade would truly end.

Finally, Cal jumped to his feet. “Enough.”

Another Sentinel, a skin healer from Skonos, knelt beside Farley. Farley had slumped, staring blankly at his arm, which was now torn apart with blades of congealed blood. The new sentinel recovered himself quickly, his hands moving in a practiced manner.

Farley chuckled bitterly as warmth returned to his arms. “All this to repeat, huh?”

Cal folded his arms behind his back. He exchanged glances with his father, who nodded. “Sure,” Cal sighed, turning back to the freezer. But he didn’t get a chance to continue.

“WHERE IS HE?” There was a terrible scream, echoing from the stairs above.

Evangeline spun around at the commotion, rushing to the bottom of the stairs. “I’m here!” He shouted back.

When Ptolemus Samos stepped down to embrace his brother, I was forced to dig my nails into my palms to prevent myself from reacting. There he stood, still alive, breathing, and very angry. On the floor, Farley cursed to himself.

Ptolemus only embraced her for a moment before dodging Evangeline, with frightening anger in his eyes. His suit of armor was torn at the shoulder, crushed by bullets. But the skin underneath is intact. Healed . He lunged to the front of the cell, arms outstretched. The metal bars vibrated in their sockets, creaking shrilly against the concrete.

“Ptolemus, not yet—,” Cal growled, pulling away, but Ptolemus pushed the prince away. Despite Cal’s size and strength, he stumbled backwards.

Evangeline ran over to her brother, grabbing his hand. “No, we need to get them talking!” With a flick of his arm, he released his grip—not even Evangeline could stop him.

The bars of the cell broke, creaking with force as the cell chamber opened for him. The Sentinels couldn’t stop him as he stepped forward, moving quickly with practiced movements. Kilorn and Walsh scrambled to dodge, jumping backwards until they hit a stone wall, but Ptolemus was a predator, and predators attack the weak. With a broken leg, barely able to move, Tristan didn’t stand a chance.

“You will never threaten my brother again,” roared Ptolemus, aiming at the iron bars of the cell. An iron spear pierced straight through

Tristan’s chest. He groaned, choking on his own blood, dying . And Ptolemus actually smiled.

When he turned to Kilorn, with murderous intent, I exploded.

Sparks ignited on my skin. As my hands closed around Ptolemus’ muscular neck, I let the sparks escape. They electrocuted him, lightning danced through his veins, and Ptolemus succumbed under my touch. The iron of his uniform vibrated and released smoke, almost roasting him alive. Then he collapsed to the concrete floor, his body still shaking with sparks.

“Ptolemus!” Evangeline rushed to his side, grabbing his face. The remaining electricity shocked Evangeline’s fingers, forcing her to fall backwards with a curse. He immediately directed his anger at me. “ How dare you—!”

“He’ll be fine.” I didn’t hit it enough to do any real damage. “As you said yourself, we need to get them talking. They won’t be able to do it if they’re dead.”

The others looked at me with a strange mix of emotions, their eyes wide—and afraid. Cal, the young man I kissed, the warrior, the violent one, couldn’t look at me at all. I recognized the expression on his face: embarrassment. But whether it was because he injured Farley, or because he couldn’t force him to talk, I don’t know. At least Maven had a good instinct to look sad, his gaze fixed on Tristan’s body which was still bleeding.

“Mother can check on the prisoners later,” he said, addressing the king. “However, the people upstairs certainly wanted to see their king and know he was safe. So many have died. You have to calm them down, Dad. You too, Cal.”

He’s stalling . The brilliant Maven is trying to give us a chance.

Even though my skin was crawling, I reached out my hand to touch Cal’s shoulder. He kissed me once. He might still want to listen when I talk. “He’s right, Cal. This can wait.”

Still on the floor, Evangeline bared her teeth. “The palace will demand answers, not embraces! This must be done now! Your Majesty, take the truth from them—”

Yet even Tiberias saw the wisdom in Maven’s words. “They will wait,” he echoed. “And tomorrow the truth will be known.”

My grip tightens on Cal’s arm, feeling the muscles tense beneath it. Her body relaxed under my touch, as if a huge burden had been lifted from her.

The Sentinels immediately alerted and pulled Farley back into the damaged cell. Farley’s eyes were fixed straight on me, wondering what I was planning in my mind. If only I knew.

Evangeline half-dragged Ptolemus out, letting the bars reconnect behind him. “You are so weak, my Prince,” he hissed into Cal’s ear.

I resisted the urge to turn back to Kilorn, as his words echoed in my head. Stop trying

protect me.

I will never stop.

Blood dripped from my sleeve, leaving a silver trail behind me as we walked towards the throne room. Sentinels and Security guarded the enormous door, their rifles raised and aimed down the hall. They didn’t move as we passed, frozen in place. Their orders were to kill, should the need arise. Beyond him, the main room echoed with anger and sadness. I wanted to feel a glimmer of victory, but the memory of Kilorn behind bars dampened what little happiness I might have had. Even the colonel’s blank stare haunted me.

I move to Cal’s side. He barely noticed, his burning eyes glued to the floor. “How many fatalities?”

“Ten so far,” he muttered. “Three in shooting, eight in explosion. Fifteen more people were injured.” It sounded as if he was listing a shopping list, not people. “However, they are all healing themselves.”

He flicked his thumb, pointing at the healers running among the wounded. I counted two small children among them. And behind the wounded were the bodies of the dead, spread out in front of the king’s throne. Belicos Lerolan’s twin sons lay next to him, with their sobbing mother guarding their bodies.

I had to cover my mouth with my hands to keep from screaming.

I never wanted this.

Maven’s two warm hands grabbed mine, pulling me through the horrific scene to our place on the throne. Cal stood over us, desperately trying to wipe the red blood from his hands.

“The time for tears is over,” Tiberias roared, his hands clenched at his sides. Simultaneously, the sobs and sobs throughout the room subsided. “Now we honor the dead, heal the wounded, and avenge the victims. I am the king. I’ll never forget. I will never forgive. I have been too tolerant in the past, allowing our Red brothers to have a good life full of prosperity, full of dignity. But instead they spat on us, they rejected our compassion, and they have brought upon themselves the worst disaster.”

With a growl, he threw a silver spear and a piece of red cloth down. The spear clanged along the floor like a death knell. The tattered sun stared down at us all.

“These fools, these terrorists, these murderers , will soon be brought to justice. And they will die. I swear on my crown, on my throne, on my sons, they will die .”

A murmur rumbled through the crowd as every Silver rose to his feet. They stood united, injured or not. The iron smell of blood was very strong.

“Strength.” The whole palace screamed. “Power! Death !”

Maven glanced at me, his eyes wide and afraid. I knew what he was thinking because I was thinking the same thing.

What have we done?[]