And looking straight in our direction.

I don’t know if she can see us here; her Skyhunter eyesight is keener than it should possibly be. But I return her stare anyway, willing her to hear me. My hands clench and unclench.

I’m going to find a way back to your side. I’m going to free you.

I swear everything on it.

20

TALIN

I can’t stop thinking about Red.

Long after the horrors of the arena have been left behind, long after the streets of the capital have quieted, I sit up in my bed with the moonlight slanting into my room, my arms wrapped around my legs. My eyes are closed. Constantine has fallen into an uneasy sleep, his dream state shallow and rhythmic in the way I’m used to sensing through our bond. I concentrate on keeping my emotions even, but my mind keeps replaying the feeling of Red’s heartbeat.

Red is here in Cardinia. Here!

My heart lurches even now, hours later, at the thought, and it takes all my effort to keep myself steady. I always feel Red’s heartbeat, of course, but the pulse of it had been so strong in the arena that I could look in the direction it came from and imagine him there in the stands. Even though he was far enough away that I couldn’t pinpoint exactly where he was, I knew it was him.

It was him.

I draw in a slow, shaky breath and let it out through my mouth, again and again.

Maybe his presence had given me the courage to rage against the Premier, to stand there and refuse to kill Adena. Maybe I would have felt compelled to do it without him. I don’t know. I don’t know. All I remember is Adena’s eyes locked on mine, unrelenting and furious.

She was ready to die at my hands. I could see that in her, the familiar look she used to get on the warfront whenever it looked like we might lose our lives at the hands of Ghosts.

But I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. And her eyes had widened instead in disbelief. Not only had I rebelled against the Premier’s command in my mind, but Adena had sensed it. Seen it for herself. So had Red. I’d looked back at Constantine and dared him to punish me in front of that crowd by ordering his guards to kill Adena anyway.

But he hadn’t. I knew he wouldn’t. If he did, the entire audience would have known that he’d been forced to make his other guards do something that I’d refused to do. They would have realized that his hold on his Skyhunter isn’t as solid as he’s promised and—worse—that I can act independently of his authority.

Better to play along instead. Let the crowd think that Constantine had planned to pardon Adena of her actions all along, that she had performed so well in the maze the Premier himself felt generous and wanted her to live.

But how long is he going to let her live? I know, deep in my bones, that he will make sure Adena and Aramin die in the next games. He’ll never let them survive and give me that satisfaction. This time I’m going to be forced to stand by, forced to watch the warfront family I’ve had since childhood be slaughtered for sport.