I can’t. I can’t make sense of this.
“And no one followed me. Obviously no one can follow me. They found out about you on their own. Something about spies in Rocasta, didn’t quite catch it all.”
“So you’re still safe in Corvium, still working for them? As one of them?”
His patience snaps like a twig. “I told you, I’m not Silver!” he growls, an animal in that quaking second. I want to take a step backward, but force myself to stand firm, unmoving, unafraid of him. Though I have every right to be.
Then he shoves his arm out, drawing back the sleeve with shaking fingers. “Cut me.” He nods, answering my question before I can ask. “Cut. Me.”
To my surprise, my fingers shake just as badly as his when I draw the knife from my boot. He flinches when I press it to his skin. At least he feels pain.
My heart skips a beat when blood swells beneath the blade. Red as the dawn.
“How is this possible?”
I look up to find him staring at my face, looking for something. By the way his eyes flash, I think he finds it.
“I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what this is or what I am. I only know I’m not one of them. I’m one of yours.”
For a blistering moment, I forget my team, the woods, my mission, and even Shade standing in front of me. Again, the world tips, but not from anything he can do. This is something more. A shifting. A change. And a weapon to be used. No, a weapon I’ve already wielded many times. To get information, to infiltrate Corvium. With Shade Barrow, the Scarlet Guard can go anywhere. Everywhere.
You’d think, with all my breaches in protocol, I’d try to steer away from breaking any more rules. But at the same time, what’s one more going to do?
Slowly, I close my fingers around his wrist. He still bleeds, but I don’t mind. It’s fitting.
“Will you oath yourself to the Scarlet Guard?”
I expect him to smile. Instead his face turns to stone.
“On one condition.”
My eyebrows raise so high they might disappear into my hairline. “The Guard does not bargain.”
“This isn’t a request to the Guard, but to you,” he replies. For a man who can move faster than the blink of an eye, somehow he manages to take the world’s slowest step forward. We stand eye to eye, blue meeting gold.
Curiosity gets the better of me. “And that is?”
“What’s your name?”
My name. The others don’t mind using their own, but for me, there is no such thing. My name holds no importance. Only rank and designation truly matter. What my mother called me is of no consequence to anyone, least of all me. It is a burden more than anything, a stinging reminder of her voice and the life we lived in early days. When the Colonel was called Papa, and the Scarlet Guard was the pipe dream of hunters and farmers and empty soldiers. My name is my mother, my sister Madeline, and their graves dug in the frozen ground of a village no one lives in anymore.
Shade looks on, expectant. I realize he’s holding my hand, not minding the blood coagulating beneath my fingers.
“My name is Diana.”
For once, his smile is real. No jokes, no mask.
“Are you with us, Shade Barrow?”
“I’m with you, Diana.”
“Then we will rise.”
His voice joins mine.
“Red as the dawn.”
THE FOLLOWING MESSAGE HAS BEEN DECODED
CONFIDENTIAL, SENIOR CLEARANCE REQUIRED
Day 34 of Operation RED WEB, Stage 1.
Operative: Captain REDACTED.
Designation: LAMB.
Origin: On the move.
Destination: RAM at REDACTED, COMMAND at REDACTED.
-Leaving CORVIUM, heading to DELPHIE. Stopping at WHISTLE points along route.
-Plan to be in Stage 2 within a week.
-Advise CORVIUM operation that CORVIUM officials believe there are “bandits and deserters” in the woods.
-Enclosed is detailed information about Air Fleet grounded in DELPHIE, procured by newly oathed operative Aide B (designation: SHADOW) still in CORVIUM.
-Suggest Corp E be oathed as well.
-I am and will remain SHADOW’s SG contact.
-SHADOW will be removed from CORVIUM at my discretion.
-CORVIUM overview: Killed in action: G. TYE, W. TARRY, R. SHORE, C. ELSON, H. “Big” COOPER (5).
Missing in action: T. BOREEVE, R. BINLI (2).
Silver casualty count: Zero (0).
THE FOLLOWING MESSAGE HAS BEEN DECODED
CONFIDENTIAL, SENIOR CLEARANCE REQUIRED
Operative: General REDACTED.
Designation: DRUMMER.
Origin: COMMAND at REDACTED.
Destination: RAM at REDACTED.
-Air intel good. DELPHIE Operation in motion.
-Train transit online between ARCHEON and City #1.
-Begin 3 week countdown for Operation DAYBREAK.
RISE, RED AS THE DAWN.
—Your girl has balls. —DRUMMER—
—The girl gets our people killed. —RAM—
—Worth it for her results. But her attitude leaves something to be desired. —DRUMMER—
THE FOLLOWING MESSAGE HAS BEEN DECODED
CONFIDENTIAL, SENIOR CLEARANCE REQUIRED
Day 54 of Operation RED WEB, Stage 2.
Operative: Captain REDACTED.
Designation: LAMB.
Origin: Albanus, NRT.
Destination: RAM at REDACTED.
-CAPITAL VALLEY WHISTLES coming online. In ALBANUS to open removal with oathed WHISTLE operative WILL.
-30 assets removed in 2 weeks.
-SHADOW still operating out of CORVIUM. Intel: legions are being rotated off the trench lines, leaves gaps.
RISE, RED AS THE DAWN
I hate this stinking wagon.
The fencer, old Will, burns a candle, as if it can do anything for the smell. It only makes it hotter in here, more stifling if that’s even possible. Besides the stench, though, I feel at ease.
The Stilts is a sleepy village, without much cause for concern. In fact, this happens to be Shade’s own birthplace. Not that he talks about home much, other than his sister. I know he writes to them, though. I “mailed” his latest letter myself, leaving it at the post only this morning. Faster than relying on the army to get a letter through, he said, and he was right. Only two or so weeks since he wrote it, rather than the usual month it takes for any kind of Red mail to get anywhere.
“So does this have anything to do with the new cargo you’ve been having my compatriots ferry downriver and overland? To Harbor Bay, yes?” Will glares at me, eyes so bright for someone his age. But his beard looks thinner than it did last month, as is his body. Still, he pours himself a cup of tea with the still hands of a surgeon.
I politely decline the offer of hot tea in an even hotter wagon. How is he wearing long sleeves? “What have you heard?”
“This and that.”
Wily to the end, these Whistles. “It’s true. We’re beginning to move people, and the Whistle network has been integral to that operation. I’m hoping you’ll agree to join the same.”
“Now why would I be stupid enough to do that?”
“Well, you were stupid enough to oath yourself to the Scarlet Guard. But if you need more convincing. . .” With a grin, I pull five silver tetrarchs from my pocket. They barely touch the small table before he snaps them up. They disappear between his fingers. “More for every item.”
Still, he does not agree. Putting on a show like the other Whistles did before I eventually won their agreements.
“You would be the first to refuse,” I tell him with a slick smile. “And our partnership would cease.”
He waves a hand, dismissive. “I do fine without your sort, anyways.”
“Is that so?” My smile widens. Will is no good at bluffing. “Very well then, I’ll go and never darken your. . . wagon again.”
Before I can even get up, he stands to
stop me. “Who are you planning to move?”
Got you.
“Assets. People who will be valuable to our cause.”
As I watch, his bright eyes darken. A trick of the light.
“And who makes that decision?”
Despite the heat, a finger of cold runs down my spine. Here comes the usual sticking point. “There are operations all over the country seeking out such people, myself included. We assess, propose our candidates, and wait for approval.”
“I assume the old, the sick, and the children set to conscript do not make any of your proposals. No use saving the ones who truly need it.”
“If they have valuable skills—”
“Pah!” Will spits, his cheeks going red. He gulps at his tea with angry gasps, draining the cup. The liquid seems to calm him though. When he sets down the empty cup, he rests his chin on his hand thoughtfully. “I suppose that’s the best we can hope for.”
Another channel opened. “For now.”
“Very well.”
“Oh, and this most likely won’t be a problem here, but I’d stay away from any Silvers you see tomorrow. They won’t be happy.”
Tomorrow. The thought of it singes my blood. I don’t know what the Colonel and Command have planned, only that it includes my broadcast, and something worth waving our flag for.
“Do I want to know?” Will wonders with a pointed smirk. “Do you even know?”
I have to laugh openly. “Do you have anything stronger than tea?”
He doesn’t get a chance to answer, as someone starts pounding on the wagon door. He jumps, nearly smashing the cup. I catch it deftly, but my eyes are on him. An old tremor of fear shivers through me and we sit still, waiting. Then I remember. Officers do not knock.
“Will Whistle!” a girl’s voice says. Will all but collapses in relief, and the cord of tension in me releases as well. With one hand, he gestures for me to get behind the curtain dividing his wagon.
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.”
I swallow hard and hope he doesn’t notice. My fear for him cannot be construed as anything but professional. “Then we’ll execute you first, say you ran off and got shot for deserting. Eastree can falsify the documents like she does with other assets. And besides, it’s high time we moved you anyways.”
“Do you have any idea where that might be?”
“You’ll be going to Trial, across the border. That shouldn’t be too difficult for someone with your skills.”
“I’m not invincible. I can’t jump hundreds of miles, or even, well, navigate myself that far. Can you?” he mumbles.
I have to smile. Crance should work. “I think I can secure you a map and a guide.”
“You’re not coming?” I tell myself I’m imagining the disappointment in his voice.