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.