Page 19 of Morning Star (Red Rising Saga 3)

“You were there?”

“Who do you think lead the drillteam that punched up into Attica? It was Lykos blood, Lambda and Omicron.”

“And what about Victra?”

“Easy, boy.” He sets his hand on my chest to stop me from trying to get up again. “She’s with the doc. Same for the Gray. They’re alive. Getting patched.”

“You need to check me, Narol. Tell the doctors to check me for radiation trackers. For implants. They might have let me go on purpose, to find Tinos….I need to see Sevro.”

“Oy! I said easy,” Narol says sharply. “We checked you. Two implants were in you. But both fried in the EMP. You weren’t tracked. And Ares ain’t here. He’s still out with the Howlers. Came back just to deliver the wounded and scarf down grub.” There were almost a dozen wolfcloaks. So he’s recruited. Thistle betrayed us, but Vixus mentioned Pebble and Clown. Wonder if Screwface is with them too.

“Ares is always on the move,” mother says.

“Lots to do. Only one Ares,” Narol replies defensively. “They’re still out looking for survivors. They’ll be back soon. By morning, luck holds.” My mother shoots him a harsh look and he shuts up.

I lean back in the bed, overwhelmed by speaking to them. By seeing them. I can barely form sentences. So much to say. So much unfamiliar emotion running through me. All I end up doing is sitting there, breathing fast. My mother’s love fills the room, but still I feel the darkness moving beyond this moment. Pressing in on this family I thought I lost and now fear I cannot protect. My enemies are too great. Too many. And I too weak. I shake my head, running my thumb over her knuckles.

“I thought I would never see you again.”

“Yet here you are.” Somehow she makes it sound cold. So like my mother

to be the one with dry eyes when both the men can barely speak. I always wondered how I survived the Institute. It damn well wasn’t because of my father. He was a gentle man. Mother is the spine in me. The iron. And I clutch her hand as if such a simple gesture could say all that.

A light knock comes at the door. Dancer pokes his head in. Devilishly handsome as ever, he’s one of the only Reds alive who makes old age look good. I can hear his foot dragging slightly behind him in the hall. Both my mother and uncle nod to him in deference. Narol steps aside respectfully as he approaches my bedside, but my mother stays put. “This Helldiver’s not done yet, it would seem.” Dancer grips my hand. “But you gave us a hell of a scare.”

“It’s bloodydamn good to see you, Dancer.”

“And you, boy. And you.”

“Thank you. For taking care of them.” I nod to my mother and uncle. “For helping Sevro…”

“It’s what family is for,” he says. “How are you?”

“My chest hurts. And everything else.”

He laughs lightly. “It should. Virany says that crank the Nakamuras gave you almost killed you. You had a heart attack.”

“Dancer, how did the Jackal know? Every day I’ve wondered. Picked it apart. The clues I left him. Did I give myself up?”

“It wasn’t you,” Dancer says. “It was Harmony.”

“Harmony…” I whisper. “She wouldn’t…she hates Gold.” But even as I say it, I know how reckless her hate is. How vengeful she must have felt after I did not detonate the bomb she gave me to kill the Sovereign and the others on Luna.

“She thinks we’ve sold out the rebellion,” Dancer says. “That we’re compromising too much. She told the Jackal who you were.”

“He knew when I was in his office. When I gave him the gift…”

He nods tiredly. “Your presence proved her claims. So the Jackal let us rescue her and the others. We brought her back to base, and an hour before his kill squads came, she disappeared.”

“Fitchner is dead because of her. He gave her a purpose…I understand how she could betray me, but him? Ares?”

“She found out he was a Gold. Then she gave him up. Must have given the Jackal the base’s coordinates.” Ares was her hero. Her god. After her children died in the mines he gave her a reason to live, a reason to fight. And then she discovered he was the enemy, and she got him killed. It crushes me to think that’s why he died.

Dancer surveys me quietly. It’s clear I’m not what he expected. Mother and Narol watch him almost as carefully as they watch me, deducing the same.

“I know I’m not what I was,” I say slowly.

“No, boy. You’ve been through hell. It’s not that.”