Page 67 of Cage of Starlight

The ground is slick with blood. Bodies litter the grass, and the air hums with energy and violent intent—the kind of conflict that refuses to end as long as there are bodies to fight in it.

It helps that, as if in response to Tory’s determination, the Legion unit has made a threatening half-dome over his and Sena’s heads, restless vines shifting, ready to rain chaos down on anyone who gets the wrong idea.

Tory shoves Sena’s shoulder, grinning. “Told you it likes you! Look, it’s trying to protect you.”

Iri just stands there, looking smug. “I don’t think it ’s the thing that likes him.”

Regardless, the looming, twisting roots shut everyone up quite nicely.

Helner speaks first, addressing the scattered collection of soldiers from the Compound.

“This isn’t your fight. You can leave, now, or this little guy—” she gestures up at the serpentine roots, “—will help you leave. I suggest being speedy about it. If we ever face you again, you won’t know mercy from us. ”

The soldiers make their decision with little pause, hurrying toward the front gate, which is barely more than rubble. When the first ones pick their way through and disappear beyond the wall, Tory turns back to the remaining group. Riese’s people.

He barely has to reach for Sena’s energy. It leaps to his fingers and expands in the direction he asks of it. All around, the energy from the rebel Seeds crumples. Tory releases it. If his experiment with Iri was any indicator, it’ll take around a minute until their abilities return.

“We’re not here to hurt you. We have a proposition.”

One of the rebels snaps a gun up and aims it at the departing soldiers.

“None of that.”

Jeffra ’ports in behind him with Prentice and squeezes the guy’s shoulder.

He falls, and Jeffra nudges him with her foot until he’s face-down in a slick of gore.

She offers the group a dry stare. “This was the carrot, dear ones. He’s only sleeping.

If you want the stick, I’ll swap with Dr. Helner, who’s eager to bring some insides outside. ”

A low murmur passes through the group. The ones remaining on their feet choose to be reasonable.

“Riese is dead,” Tory starts. “I’m sure that upset some of you. Maybe it surprises some of you, too. I imagine a few of you have already guessed why, but . . . Iri?”

He steps in front of Tory, and the members of the group mutter and turn to each other.

“I know,” Iri says. “I should be dead. I would be, if not for her .” He waves at Niela, still in her fatigues, and the mutters turn to a cacophony.

“She risked her life to keep me alive, stayed awake all night exhausting herself to heal me over and over when I was shot and Null kept the healing from sticking. I couldn’t even move for hours, which gave me plenty of time to think. What’s Riese’s Seed?”

“He’s—” someone starts, then breaks off. “He’s . . .”

“It’s funny, isn’t it, that you don’t know.

That you followed him anyway. Think about that.

Then think about what you’ve been fighting for.

Maybe you agree with Riese on a lot of things.

Maybe even all of them. Start asking yourselves questions.

Find the ones you have a hard time answering, and ask why.

Some of the beliefs you hold may not be your own. Mine weren’t.”

Silence. Every face bears cutting emotions—confusion, betrayal, and determination.

Tory takes advantage of the quiet. “Some of you, like Iri, may find the things you’ve believed until now are at odds with what you want. If that’s the case, you’re welcome to join us.”

“For what?”

“For what all of you want. To take this fight straight to Maran. What we’ve done here cut Vantaras’ war efforts off at the legs, but right now, he’s amassing anti-Seed weaponry to fight us. It won’t be easy.”

“We didn’t do any of this because it was easy ,” Spark spits.

“Good,” Tory says. “I agree with Riese that Seeds shouldn’t be bound to serve Westrice against their will, but we don’t have to kill other Seeds to make some of us safe.

If you remain dedicated to his ideals and attack us, we won’t hold back.

If your head is clear and you have no intention of killing your fellow Seeds, come with us. ”

One or two shift on their feet in the group but subside when no one else steps forward.

The expressions on a few faces get stormier.

They get stormier still when Sena speaks up. “With everyone here—with your support and Belmin’s and Iri’s, with Arlune’s, with the Seeds who were trapped here—we have a chance.”

“ He’s part of this?” one of them hisses.

“If you have complaints, the door’s that way.” Tory gestures to the ruined gate. As he does, a chunk of stone breaks from the wall and crashes to the ground.

Sena scrubs a hand over his face. “An easier question, perhaps: who refuses to be a part of this and wants to leave?”

There are maybe four. Judge is among them.

“Go now,” Helner says. “If we see a weapon turned our way, we’ll do worse than kick you into a puddle of guts. I have not torn out nearly enough spleens for the shitty day I’ve had.”

They go. When they, too, pass through the rubble of the front gate, Tory returns his attention to the handful who remain.

The first one comes over to stand with Tory. A few others follow. Travin and Spark join last, Spark drawling a, “Disappoint me and I’ll fry you.”

Blandly, Sena responds, “You can try.”

Spark’s eyebrows go up, and she folds herself into the group of survivors from the Compound.

Ahead of them is only open air and the crumbling gate. Tory turns to Sena. “You ready for this?”

Sena offers a wan smile. “Not in the least. You?”

“No.”

Helner paces ahead of them, sidestepping the unconscious man.

“Doesn’t matter. The full wrath of the Westrian military will be on its way as soon as someone sees the smoke.

We don’t want to be here when they arrive.

This story doesn’t look good for us from any angle, and they’ll spin it ugly faster than we can open our mouths to protest.”

Tory nods. “We’ll aim for Serpentshead to gather and plan; Belmin’s people are already there. We’d better get moving.”

Behind them, the Compound falls into itself piece by piece, the tree at its core shrouded by black smoke lit with flickers of orange flame. It has survived worse things than these fires.

Tory is here, and Sena is alive, and this is where it starts.

Maybe this is where it was always meant to start.

One set of walls broken down and cities more to go, until every wall is dust and they stand in the home of a fearful man who turns his terror to violence and makes weapons of children and sons.

With Iri, with Hasra and Ariana Belmin, with any Seeds willing to stand behind them—they’ll tear this festering country out by the roots.

The others walk on ahead, until only Tory and Sena remain behind in the yard.

“You don’t have to do this,” Sena reminds him.

He’s right. There’s no deal between them to coerce him, no Core to trap him. The future they face could hurt him, break him, end him.

For the first time in a long time—in a lifetime, maybe—Tory doesn’t have to, but that’s why he chooses it. “Were you listening to a word I said? No way you’re getting rid of me that easy.”

Sena smiles, lopsided and dry. “I’d hoped not.”

Tory walks outside the crumbling walls into open air that smells of blood and ash. He aches all over. Sena, shoulders squared, walks a step ahead, into the darkness under trees that hum with life, and Tory follows close. They’ll shake the world, the two of them.

It feels like flying, like falling from a great height.

It feels right.