No one did. I do not know what happened to those men, nor why they had been led out. Maybe they were rebels, the same as we are now. Whatever the reason, I lost my nerve and stole away through the rubble, silent and unseen, back to the Karensan base set up at the outskirts of the city. The female soldier I had shadowed didn’t even care about my absence. She must have been relieved for my disappearance.

  Now I crouch behind the tracks and will myself to become as small and invisible as I had once been. Some distance away, I can see the outline of Adena, Tomm, and Pira near the train station, while Jeran and Aramin have settled into hiding places around the farther cars of the train. They’ll wait for my diversion before making their move.

  In the strengthening light, I can better see exactly what this train is bringing back to Cardinia. What had looked like bits of steel and stone hauled back in cars now take on the recognizable shape of specific types of pillars or stone blocks with letters carved in them. With a start, I realize that these are artifacts of Mara that the Federation must think are worth keeping. They are trophies.

  I look on grimly, recognizing one enormous stone strapped into its own car as the stone usually suspended over the Striker arena’s gate. On it is engraved one of their mantras: MAY THERE BE FUTURE DAWNS. Still another car carries two pillars with carvings indicative of the Early Ones’ writing. Finally, there is the car that the others will be targeting, the one loaded with prisoners.

  I wait until the light has fully brightened. Somehow, the arrangement of soldiers and workers milling around out here makes me uncomfortable. I see a few teams walking alongside engineers, all inspecting the objects tied to the cars. There’s a woman with them too, and I recognize her as Mayor Elland of Cardinia. She must have come here to Mara to inspect what they’ll be bringing back to her city.

  None of it feels right. Usually, if the Premier is headed somewhere, the patrols are more structured, ordered into neat rows to await his arrival so they can easily and safely usher him to where he needs to go. I’ve seen it plenty in my lifetime.

  But they aren’t out here. Neither is the Premier.

  Had they changed their minds? Is the Premier not on this train after all? If that’s the case, it will make this mission an easier one for us. Talin won’t be at his side, a weapon we cannot defeat.

  The light changes more. I exchange a brief look with Adena and the others near the station. They appear as confused as I am. We stay where we are until steam and smoke finally begin to pour from the train. It is going to move.

  I watch as the massive machine yawns and roars, as the soldiers shout to one another and back away from the train. Then I tense for the first detonation of the cylinders hidden under its tracks, ready to move.

  It doesn’t come.

  Neither does the second.

  The explosives don’t work. This is my first thought as I turn my eyes to meet Adena’s stricken ones. But when I look closer at the tracks, I notice that it’s not that the spheres she created do not work.

  It’s that they have been removed. Someone has cleared away all of them since we planted them last night.

  My blood runs cold at the same time I look up to see General Caitoman emerging from the front gate. Behind him march several patrols of soldiers.

  They look unsurprised, ready to attack, and to my horror, I realize that there is an entire ring of soldiers who have been waiting for us already. They appear all along the edges of the train station now, along with the hulking shapes of Ghosts.

  This is the moment when it finally dawns on me that they knew we were coming. We’ve walked right into a trap.

  Part of what makes you a Skyhunter is the rush of rage that fills you in the seconds before you attack. Now, as I gear up to move, I can feel that same rush coursing through my veins with blinding heat. Talin had told me of how my eyes glow, transforming me from a young man into something monstrous. Along with this fury comes fear.

  I hate the rush. I hate the feeling. And yet, every time it appears, I can’t help but want more of it, hoping that if it swallows me completely, I’d never have to know the destruction I’ve created. Better to hide, right? Better to lose yourself.

  I close my eyes; the world around me narrows into a funnel of light.

  Then I stand and extend my wings. If the others at the station see me now, they should know I am directing every bit of the soldiers’ attention to me. The guard closest to me freezes, her eyes wide in terror at the sight of me. She waves frantically to the team behind her, but it’s all she has a chance to do. I brace myself, then surge toward the train. If there is nothing we have to stop the train with, then I will have to attempt to inflict the damage myself.

  Soldiers dart out of my path as I hurtle toward the train’s massive wheels. My bladed feathers clip against their giant metal spokes, and sparks fly. The hit sends ripples of agony through me, but I grit my teeth and saw desperately into the wheels again.

  My attack is no explosion—but the force of me throwing all my weight against the train makes the entire structure rock sideways with a loud groan. The wheels’ spokes bend sharply at the impact, scraping hard against the wheels themselves and bringing the train to a halt.

  The others seem to sense immediately what I’m doing, because when my attention shifts to them for a moment, they are already out from their hiding places and rushing into battle in an attempt to get to the train car. I see the blur of Jeran’s figure. He reaches one of the patrols first and twists, blades flashing through the air. Nearby, Adena leaps against the train station’s shed, scales it in an instant, and launches herself off, gun firing.

  I turn to face the Karensan soldiers. All the while, my mind whirls with the same question. They knew. They knew. How did they know?

  The soldiers have no time to react. All they can do is lift their blades. Some of them point their guns at me, but I slide into a crouch, one of my wings shielding me from their barrage of bullets. I seize the first soldier by the collar and fling him aside; I grab his fallen blade and swing it viciously at the second soldier.

  From behind them comes the gnashing of rotting fangs. Ghosts.

  They don’t target me, but turn their attention on the Strikers who have come with us on the mission. I narrow my eyes, bare my teeth, and hurtle into them.

  Near the end of the train tracks, an explosion rocks the earth.

  The blast is so powerful that I feel the heat scalding my back. One of Adena’s bombs. I guess they didn’t catch all of them.

  Screams erupt from the gate, where the patrol has been thrown back. Flames roar against the entrance’s frame. Silhouetted against the chaos is Adena herself, running alongside Tomm and Pira as they draw near to the train car of prisoners. I glimpse a flash of Aramin’s uniform darting through the grass.

  Knives are in my hands, cutting through skin and flesh before I am even aware of my own attack. I spin through soldiers and Ghosts alike in a whirlwind of blood. The blades of my wings slice through the air until they strike bodies. I wince at each impact, but the pain fuels me now, and the threat of death pushes me to keep moving.

  Some of the Ghosts are newly formed. They look more human than the others, their forms smaller but their rage fresh, their bodies flush with strength from the intense agony of breaking down. I grit my teeth, hating the look of them. It’s like looking at a person who is no longer a person. Like watching the soul of your sister rot before your eyes.

  Soldiers are pouring toward us from every direction now. There are far too many of them for us to face. They seem not only to know that we would stage this attack, but that I would be among them.

  We have lost this battle. The others have to get out of here.

  I push off from the ground and charge into a patrol of soldiers heading for the others. A bullet hits my shoulder and rockets me backward. I grimace and look in the direction of my attacker. It’s Caitoman himself. His hit can’t penetrate the steel under my skin, but it leaves a small wound anyway. I whirl to focus on him.

  Far at the other end of the train, I see Jeran sliding the train car door open and slicing through the ropes of the first prisoner he sees.

  I raise my voice at him. “Jeran!” I scream. “Retreat! Retreat!”

  Jeran’s eyes flicker toward me, but his jaw is set as he ignores me and goes back to freeing the prisoners. I curse. Damn bleeding hearts.

  Caitoman shoots at me again. I dodge a second time, but now I can tell that they are less interested in the prisoners and more determined to keep me from escaping. I am the real prize. I narrow my eyes and dart into the crowd of soldiers, cutting anyone down in my path. But there are so many of them now.

  “Strikers!” I shout again and again, blindly. “Retreat!”

  From the corner of my eye, I see Jeran ushering some of the prisoners toward the woods. A few of them have broken past the train station and are heading straight into the forest. Jeran whirls as some of the Ghosts lunge toward them. He switches one of his blades for a gun in the same fluid movement.

  Then he freezes in his path. His eyes are fixed on the first Ghost hurtling toward him. All the color has drained from his face.

  My eyes flicker to the beast that has caught his attention. It was clearly transformed recently—still bearing some resemblance to the old man it once was, though its lips are already ripped and bleeding from the larger, jagged teeth growing in its mouth. Its skin has begun cracking in places, all the way down to the red muscle.

  It looks familiar. And an instant later, I realize who it is.

  This was once Jeran’s father.

  My head whips back to Jeran. “No!” I shout. “Move!” I crouch as if to rush to him, but I know I’m too far away to reach him in time. In my panic, I switch to Karenese. “It’s not your father!”

  But Jeran doesn’t move. His face is locked on his father’s, and his body is frozen in terror.

  In that expression, you see the boy he must have once been, cowering under the cruelty of the Senator, bearing the abuse quietly. You see the same fear on his face that you’d seen in the Grid.

  Jeran takes a hesitant step backward. All his Striker training seems to have left him. He drops his gun and remaining blade and raises his hands toward his face as if in self-defense. His father—the Ghost—lunges at him with jaws open.

  Adena comes out of nowhere. She barrels hard into Jeran, knocking him out of the Ghost’s path and clear to the ground.

  At the same time, Aramin jumps down from the top of the train to land in a crouch before Jeran and Adena. His teeth are bared in a snarl; a blade shines in each of his hands.

  He gives the charging Ghost a grim smile before rushing at it.

  I’m forced to tear my gaze away as more soldiers try to fence me in. But even from the corner of my eye, I see blood spray. I don’t know whether it’s from the Ghost or from Aramin. From the top of the train shoots a net. I dart out of the way barely in time and turn toward the others again in another attempt to join them.

  That is when the shadow falls over me. I know in the pit of my stomach who it is before I raise my eyes.

  Talin has arrived.

  7

  RED

  Talin’s figure soars above us and lands a dozen yards in front of me, blocking my path to the others. I freeze, transfixed by the crouched figure before me.

  She is breathtaking—I can’t help but think it. Her black wings extend fully from her back, seeming to block out the sky and everything else behind her. Every line of her exudes power. She lifts her eyes to meet mine.

  And there, I don’t see the girl who saved me in the arena, nor the girl who once soaked in a bath a hundred feet from me, both of us lost in the quiet moment.

  I see someone new and terrifying.

  In this Skyhunter’s eyes, I see flickers of the Premier. This is not Talin, but Constantine come to retrieve his servant of war.

  It’s the thought of him here, even more than the sight of Talin in her full armor, that sends a ripple of terror through me. They’re here to take me back, and they know I’m no match for her.

  She bolts at me before I can retreat. I whirl to one side, but she anticipates my move and hurtles into me, sending me reeling onto my back. The force of her hit knocks the wind out of me. I cannot believe how strong she is.

  “Talin—” I manage to utter, but my voice is lost in the next second as she rushes at me again. I roll aside and force myself to my feet, darting out of her path in time before her hands can lock around my throat. The Karensan soldiers have backed away, afraid to get between two Skyhunters battling it out. I am fast; I am the only one here who stands any chance against her. But there’s no question that she will overwhelm me. Pain lances through my back as I attempt to stretch my broken wings as far as I can manage. I scan the area for a way out.

  She locks her glowing eyes on me. Then she crouches and hurtles for me again.

  I do the only thing I can think of. I lunge toward Caitoman, where he stands with his guards. Two of his soldiers try to stop me, but I shove the first aside. The second brings his gun up to my face. I grab it from his hand and strike him hard in the head. He crumples. Caitoman swings at me—I dodge around him and lock my arm hard around his neck. Then I whirl to face Talin.

  “Constantine,” I call out, my eyes fixed on Talin, not daring to look up to where the Premier might be watching this all play out. “Your brother’s life, or mine.”

  For a moment, I think the Premier will not stop Talin from attacking me, that he is perfectly willing to sacrifice his brother. Caitoman bares his teeth in my grip, but even as he struggles, I hang grimly on. I wait a beat longer. Talin does not move.

  Constantine must have told her to hold off.

  The thought makes my heart sink. A small part of me had hoped, however foolishly, that maybe she wasn’t so tightly linked to the Premier’s commands. What a stupid thought. I face her, my heart pounding desperately, and for the first time since we were separated, I allow myself a good look at her.

  She hesitates before me. Where before I had only seen her narrowed eyes, ready to kill, now I catch a glimpse of something else in her gaze. Recognition, at least, of who I am. And as I notice this, I sense the first inkling of something in our link that goes beyond the simple beat of our hearts.

  I sense an emotion from her. Fear.

  Fear of hurting me, of seeing me captured, of seeing me killed in this place. The emotion washes over me in a wave, and it is such a familiar feeling, that it takes everything in me to remember she is no longer the same person I once knew. She is a weapon of the Federation now, a danger to us all. I tighten my grip around Caitoman’s neck. His hands clutch my arm in vain. Some of his soldiers step forward, uncertain what they can do to help their commanding officer, but he just moves his head stiffly at them.

  Then, from behind the lines of soldiers, I hear Constantine’s voice drift to us. “Let him go.”

  I turn my head to see his familiar silhouette framed against the backdrop of Newage, his form frighteningly thin, shadows darkening the skin under his eyes. If he is concerned for his brother, I do not see it in his steady gaze.

  “I do not take orders from you,” I call to him in Karenese.

  “I am not ordering you,” Constantine replies. “I am telling you it is the only way to save you and your friends’ lives.”

  I glance over my shoulder. One look is all it takes to tell me that we have lost this battle bitterly. Jeran is nowhere to be seen. Had his father taken him down? Aramin struggles in the grip of Karensan soldiers. Adena has been forced to the ground, her cheek pressed hard into the dirt. Two other young Strikers lie dead near the tracks. The circle of soldiers around us presses tight, and the shrieks of Ghosts pierce the air as they shake their heads restlessly after the heat of battle.

  You think you have a shot at slowing the Federation down; you think you’re ready. And then you fall.

  “Come back, Redlen,” Constantine says, “and let me fix your wings. They must hurt you.”

  As if on cue, I feel the pain of the twisted steel against my back. I turn my stare to Talin. She looks at me with a pained expression now, and as we face each other, she gives me a subtle shake of her head.

  Please, she says to me through our link.

  I hear the word echo in my mind, a presence that I’ve missed for so long.

  A lump rises in my throat at her presence in my thoughts. I strain to hear more, but nothing else comes.

  And in a rush of grief, I understand how the Federation knew we were coming today. Talin. Somehow, she must have seen through my eyes what we were planning. The link between us must be more intact than I thought. And if she knew about it, she must have been helpless against passing the information along to Constantine.

  She is—I am—the reason behind this trap.

  I don’t want to hurt you, she tells me now.

  I know, I answer her gently.

  Release the General, she says, gesturing at the other Strikers, or you will see them bleed to death right here.

  How much control does Constantine hold over her? The Talin I knew would rather die than threaten the lives of her former companions like this. I shudder to imagine the kind of pain she must be feeling, but I sense a wall of resistance through our link. I know there is nothing I can do.

  I look back at the others. Adena meets my gaze with her own, and her eyes are hollow with defeat. We have lost. It is over.

  Suddenly I hear a single, final word from Talin through our link.

  Go.

  I don’t know if it’s our bond that lets me guess exactly what she wants to do, our unconscious sense of her emotions and thoughts. But I understand immediately. She’s trying to help me. She knows I cannot, under any circumstances, fall back into the hands of the Federation.

  Then Talin rushes at me—but she leaves me the slightest fraction of a second to act.

  I sense the tiny advantage and take it. My wings unfurl in a single, snapping motion, and pain shoots through my back. I push off the ground in a burst of strength and take Caitoman with me. The General struggles in my grasp, but I grit my teeth and concentrate, using everything in me to fly as high as I can.