Kilorn

There are some things that can no longer be saved

Chapter Music: Corvium

We started slowly. Taking over red towns one by one. The outskirt towns were easier to take; less importance to the King meant fewer soldiers to fight. Inches for miles, Farley's words. That's what has kept us moving. Every town we have taken has gotten us one inch closer to Archeon. Closer to her, but not close enough. Expected. We knew we would have to take larger targets if we were ever to land at Whitefire's front gates. We knew there was a much larger game to play before we could slide into the palace.

Lucky for us, Cal had one in mind. Corvium.

With its walls of silent stone, it is nothing less than a fortress. Taking it, like we have to do to so many other bases, would give us a stronghold in Norta and stall any military training going on inside. So we are taking it tonight.

The jet thrashes as it hits turbulence and I see Farley's face pale even whiter than Cal's as her hand wraps tighter around her swollen stomach. She's seven months along, with Shade's of course. She shouldn't be on the mission-- especially since she hasn't been able to stomach flying since Shade died-- but no one could get her to stay behind. I send a private prayer that this will be her last mission till the baby is born.

Cal's pouring over maps of Corvium to my right, all hand-drawn from his memory. Every so often his squinted eyes sway away from his combat notes and drifts to the horizon. I can only guess what he thinks about as he stares out of the window. None of it is probably good.

"Farley, I'll be going with your squadron," Cal says, voice rough. "You'll need someone who knows their way around the base or else you'll never find the targets." Cameron huffs from her seat in the corner, it makes my lips part in a smirk. She never likes it when Cal's princey voice starts showing.

"The whole damn army didn't need to go you know. Cal and I could have gone in and disabled the base from the inside out. We'd be far less noticeable." Gisa grumbles with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her military uniform glints in the light, pointing out the two black stripes that identify her rank as a Captain and the lines of daggers strapped across her chest.

When Mare was taken, Gisa left the medical unit and moved to the legions. It came as a surprise to her parents. Not to me. Gisa has soldier problems: can't sleep, always irritable. Screams soldier to me. Besides, she wants revenge and it's not like she can't handle herself out there. She redefines the term ruthless.

Farley's eyes roll back in her head so fast that I almost miss it. She's grown used to shooting down careless ideas from the Barrows. "And what happens if you're overrun by soldiers with only the two of you? They'll send you to Maven in a blink when they find out who you both are. We all know what will happen to you then."

"We get it, you're right, Farley," Cameron comments with bored eyes. "That's why we're keeping with the plan."

"Never thought I would hear those words out of your mouth." Neither did I. Cameron isn't known for her will to bend.

"Ya, well I'm not Mare Barrow. At least, I can admit when I'm wrong."

For a moment, the other soldiers on the jet go hush at the name, Cameron's face turns a bright red at her words. I suspect she didn't mean to say it so loud-- or she really wanted to piss off Cal. No one has mentioned her out loud in weeks. Some out of respect for her haunted family, maybe even for us. I wish they wouldn't act as if a bomb was dropped every time she is implied in the talks of strategy and war. It doesn't make me feel at all better at where she is right now.

I glance over to the empty seat between Cal and I. I'm not the only one looking. Farley's eyes are staring at it too and her lips tug back down in their usual frown. She should be right there, legs sprawled out like a two-year-old.

She isn't, of course.

"I think too soon, Cam." The redness on her face fades a bit at my words as I give her a smile. Embarrassment does not look good on you, Cameron Cole.

Gisa breaks the silence, "Do you think there will be more security measures at the base because of the house riots?"

Now it's Cal's turn to redden.

"I think Cal would know better than me," Farley says, setting her blue eyes on the fire prince. For once, I am happy I am not Cal right now.

The night of the riots was far from a happy one. The dinner was being aired on the Nortan broadcast. For once, all of us were in the same room. We didn't expect much of a show, we were mainly watching for Piedmont Princes-- and for Mare. We were definitely not expecting Silver Houses to start firing. We didn't get to see much, after the first shot the broadcast was cut.

We didn't know who was dead or alive until our spies got back to us. Maven was shot; regrettably, he lived. Mare made it, Julian too. One of the Piedmont Princes weren't so lucky. Cal shared their luck. Turns out Farley has already gotten skilled at the scolding part that comes with being a mom-to-be. Those weren't regular revolts, Cal. These were organized house attacks that were planned because they want you on the throne, She had said. Cal didn't say much, he disappeared for hours afterward.

"There shouldn't be. The military didn't have anything to do with the house revolts," Cal says, looking back down at his maps.

A voice cuts in over the speakers, "Soldiers, prepare for landing."

My vision sways as our legions are teleported into the walls of Corvium. Something we would not have been able to accomplish if it wasn't for the Montfort alliance. They are the ones with the squadron's of teleporters, not us. Cal staggers away from the teleporter that holds him and I, probably still dizzy from the jump.

Farley glances back at everyone in her squad. Gisa, Cal, and me. We are one of the smallest groups, apparently not many want to tag along with us. Their loss, I think with a grin. We tear towards the entrance to our right seconds before we hear the rain start to smash over the walls of Corvium. If all goes to plan, the walls will be nothing short of a tsunami soon. I twist my neck to get a glimpse of the explosion of battle starting behind me. Already, silver and red blood paint the walls. But we have the advantage. We surprised them.

My gun lays cold in my hand as my grip tightens around it. Unlike Cal and Cameron, I only have this chunk of metal to protect me from the silvers inside. Up ahead, A soldier rounds the corner. Cal's hands spark into flames. They're not wearing our colors; they go down in a heartbeat.

My feet move over his body and my gun raises as we turn. It sweeps the hallway, looking for a target. Clear. I bring my gun back down. The light of Cal's flames goes out, drowning us in darkness. None of us dares to talk, we don't want to miss the sound of soldiers running our way-- or them hearing us.

We move towards the spiraling stairs and ascend. I almost trip on one of the steps, but Cameron pushes me back into balance. Her hand on my back sets my face on fire. I look anywhere other than the growing smirk on Farley's face.

"Thanks." I huff as we reach the top. Cal's head peers out into the hallway and motions us to move. We emerge, looking more and more like ghosts in the naked moonlight.

When the sharp ring of metal on stone erupts behind me we all spin to attention. It's one of Gisa's daggers. On her temple is a gun, held by a shaking soldier. Gisa, for once, looks surprised.

"Put your weapons down now or I'll blow her to pieces," they say. The soldier's nose is twisted sharply to the left and the scarlet blood streaming from it webs across their cheek. A Red. He looks just a few years younger than me. If only they knew who they were threatening.

Cameron takes him out before they get a chance to follow through with his threat. The boy drops to the floor as she shuts down his heart and brain quicker than any bullet. She doesn't want to kill, she told me herself, but war has no mercy on people like her.

Gisa steps out of the shadow of death, red hair set aflame in the moonlight filtering through from a window. Farley gives her a knowing look, I can almost hear her saying told you so.

"The communication room should be up here," Cal says as he turns away from us and jogs towards a door at the end of the hallway. He tries the doorknob, but the door doesn't open.

"Like it would be unlocked, Calore." Cameron sneers. Cal ignores her and moves out of the way so Gisa can do her handiwork. She crouches to the knob like I've seen Mare do so many times before. It wasn't for her hair I could almost imagine that it was her. She pulls out two thin pieces of metal and stabs them into the bolt, popping the lock almost as fast as Mare would too.

With a click, the door shifts and Cal throws it open. Gisa takes down the silver guard with one of her daggers. When the guard stops squirming she pulls it out of their chest and wipes the silver blood uncaringly on her uniform. She was always a messy eater when she was a kid, she's an even messier killer. Cal and Cameron follow in behind us and launch themselves at the monitors. They're natural techies, both always trying to figure out how something works.

I don't share that quirk. I'm made for war.

"Done. Maven won't be getting any distress signals anymore. The next target is a few hallways down," Cal says when he spins back towards us.

"Then let's get moving." We're moving at a steady pace now, leaving bodies behind in our wake. There's barely any lighting, but we don't mind. The darkness lets our black forms mold into the coal-colored walls; giving us enough cover to surprise any straying soldier from the battlefield.

The light we do have floods in from the windows that dot the hallways. I don't look out of them, I already know what I'll see, but I can hear the roar of thunder and storms from our new blood Shivers. I half expect lightning to crack, joining its thunderous sister, but the one person that could do that is miles away. I wonder if she's heard about the attack yet.

Murmured voices echo ahead of us, and we halt in our procession. Their voices creep closer and my gun raises a little higher. We can just hear them over the battle. "Get to the sides," Farley orders.

One voice says, "Our orders were to install the message and get the hell back to Archeon, Welle."

"They're being overrun. We can at least help them," replies another.

"What do you think the four of us could do against thousands of soldiers? Bring the King victory? If you think you can win this battle single-handedly, then go ahead. I won't be mourning you." They turn around the corner. There's four of them, all in their black uniforms and red-kissed capes. The night serves as a better cover than expected; they don't even see us against the walls, staring at them.

"Do you know what was on those tapes, Captain?" the soldier farthest away from me asks.

"No," the first voice I heard responds, "Whatever was on them, that twisted boy wanted it on tomorrow's broadcast."

"Do you think it was of her?" asks another as they near closer to us.

"That's not for us to worry about."

"Maven has lost all sense when it comes to her, every time her lips part in a smile. He sees her bending at his will, but I'm not blind. Her teeth are bared."

"Maybe it will cost him for his ignorance. If it does, let her die with him. She knows how to play court too well for a red." I think it was how he said that word that sent a bullet flying from Farley's gun. I watch as the bullet digs into the chest of the silver captain. A knife flings itself out of the darkness, it hits its target in the neck. We step out of the shadows now that their conversation has been cut short. Now all I hear from them are the gurgles that come from choking on ones own blood.

The other two take up their arms. One of them has skin that shapes into rough stone, I remember Cal calling them Stoneskins. Through the slits of their mask, I see wide eyes. A shaking hand goes to their heart and then they collapse in on themselves. Forever silenced. The last of them stares at us. I point my gun at their heart. Cal shoves it away before I get the chance to fire.

"Lieutenant Iral. I heard you were on your way to Archeon," Cal says. Iral, a Silk. The soldier looks down at her fallen friends. Her feet seem glued to the spot. She doesn't try to outrun us, even though she could with her speed. By the air of concentration that surrounds Cameron, she's preventing her from doing that.

"Since you are on your way already," Gisa interjects, "why don't you give a message to your King."

"He's not my king," Iral spits.

"Then what is he then? You do wear his colors and follow his orders, don't you?" Cameron sneers as she stalks around her. Iral doesn't answer. Poor girl, being picked at by the she-wolves are never fun. I know that firsthand.

"Run back to your king and tell him about the great defeat you saw here today. While you're doing that, assure him that we will do far worse when we arrive at Whitefire," Gisa jeers.

Cameron reins in her abilities and Iral darts away from us. "Let's go shut down Maven's eyes on this bloody place," she says.

"Wait, " I halt mid-step, nearly tripping on myself, "Do you hear that?"

From up ahead a voice pierces my ears. No, not a voice. A scream. "It sounds like..."

Cal doesn't wait for Farley, he's off before she can even finish her sentence. I stare after him, staring with stale hope. I can't think of anything else, just her face. It fills my eyes as I remember it in the summer heat. Warm-toned with a small blush, her lips pulled into a soft laugh. The Guard's only spoke of tapes, not Mare herself. Still, I can't help but follow him.

"It could be a trap, get back here Calore!" Farley shouts as she takes up my rear. But Cal is already at the door, hand on the doorknob.

Cal doesn't waste time trying the knob, he just kicks it open. All muscle and no brains, Farley's snickers ring in my mind from long ago.

Inside, a soldier watches Mare on the throne on the monitor, the scene is overlaid with her screams. Their reaction to us is too slow, Gisa already has a knife to their throat. "Restart this recording from the beginning now." She speaks deathly low, and the guard obeys, pressing keys with trembling fingers. When the Nortan seal appears, Gisa pulls her knife away. She doesn't even have to tell the guard to run.

The tape doesn't start like a normal broadcast, with the anthem trilling in. It opens to Maven's dreaded face. "Brother," he drawls, "I missed your birthday, but I hope I can make up for it." His eyes seem to flare as he addresses Cal. This wasn't any ordinary broadcast. It seems wrong to stand here and watch, knowing this was solely meant for Cal. But no one else moves to leave, and I know what, or who, I heard.

The camera flicks off from Maven, and there she is. Her hair is twisted into braids, and her eyes have been shaped to a more severe look. On her hand, is Maven. This footage isn't new to me. It's the one at the ball, the one Cal and I watched over and over. Before the photos in the news, it was the clearest shot we had of her. She still looks just as sick, just as angry. Their dancing now, in a tune Cal could barely stand to hear when we replayed the footage all those times.

When they stop, it fades to a dark room. It's Mare again, but not in footage I remember watching. I feel Cal stiffen next to me. She's in a different kind of gown, dancing to the same tune, and her hair is in a braid that seems to be falling apart. Only it's not Maven who holds her close this time. It's Cal. They spin and spin, laugh and laugh. She looks happier here. Healthier. This was during her first time at the court, before everything went horribly wrong.

It flicks off to a new scene. One where Mare is sitting on a throne. She doesn't wear a crown, but her hair is braided so that it looks like one is resting on her head. Maven sits on an identical throne next to her and Julian stands between them. They're all in full regalia, staring fiercely into the camera. Her screams cut through the scene, playing even though her lips stay unmoving. They look united.

For a moment I actually believe it.

I snort at the black screen, "Do we send a thank you card?" Farley looks up sharply from the monitor, not even her mouth twitches at my dark humor. "Don't give me that look, Farley. Our spies have told us the newest rumors of Mare's imprisonment. I'm surprised Maven didn't send Cal a clip of a whisper tearing her apart."

"We don't know if that happened. Servants gossip."

"When has their gossip been anything but true?" She doesn't answer, she turns back to the monitor and starts mad-typing commands into the computer. It's quiet again, that tends to happen when you bring up an ugly truth no one wants to hear. Even Cal doesn't believe his brother would do that to Mare. I think Cal gives Maven too much credit.

"What do seven months do to a person?" Cameron asks to no one as she stares at Mare on the monitor.

Farley's brows furrow, "It will be a long road back for her."

"If there's a road back at all," Cameron grumbles.

Cal stirs next to me, I shuffle away from him when I feel the air around him flare-up. "Cameron," he growls.

"We were all thinking it. Look at her." She pressed her finger against the monitor, hard enough that the pixels around Mare have begun to blur. "Have you ever stopped to think that maybe there isn't any Mare left to save? What do seven months at the hand of your enemies do to you? She's a Red alone in a sea of Silvers. I look at her there and I don't see the Mare I knew back at the notch. I see-"

"It doesn't matter what you see," Cal's voice is a mix of emotions. Too low to be anger and not yet empty enough for it to be grief, "Seven months isn't going to change Mare."

"It changed me," Farley pulls out a hard drive form the monitor as she turns towards us. Her growing belly is evident enough of how time changes people.

"So is that it then, do you all think Mare is some minion of Maven's? Some monster?" It isn't Cal this time, but Gisa. She looks over at Farley, before turning her eyes on me. "Do you?" I don't know what to think anymore. Seven months can change anyone. I know she isn't the same girl who was dancing with Cal in that nightgown.

"Mare," Farley says with a small frown, "is not a monster. Let's move." She gets up, tucks the hard drive in her uniform, and stalks out, brushing away the subject like we were just discussing lunch. Sometimes I wonder if we're the monsters. Cal leaves nearly as fast, so does Gisa.

Cameron looks at me, her black eyes glint in the light. She never liked Mare, but I think she came to respect her. "She isn't Mare either."