I dig my fingers into my palms to steady myself. I feel like I’m on the sea; everything is moving too quickly. Several more people are ushered into a waiting shuttle. The vehicle doors slide closed, and it lifts off into the air and disappears onto the airship’s deck.

Legion Guards stalk through the square wearing Prince Caelan’s colors, armor gleaming in the sunlight, but the guards hovering in the sky are different. Cuts of green cloth are wrapped around their torsos, wound tight with leather knots and padding. Their wings are feathered and varying in shades of eggshell—beautiful from a distance—and they don’t carry a single weapon.

At least not one that I can see.

Maybe they don’t need them. Maybe they are the weapons.

I keep my feet moving, eyeing a group of Residents standing at the edge of the commotion. They ignore the humans being ushered into the shuttles, too fixated on the sight of the grand ship in the sky.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” one of them gushes.

“I wonder if it means Death will reopen its borders. I’d love to visit the palace—I’ve heard it’s grander than even the Capital,” another muses.

“If Prince Ettore gets his way, I’m sure you’ll be able to soon,” says another. “The Prince of War has wanted to unite the Four Courts for ages.”

I tune in to their conversation, slowing my gait when I’m a few feet away.

“You mean he’s wanted to rule them,” one of the Residents counters. “Though you can hardly blame him. The humans in War only get stronger over time. He needs the weak ones—the ones that will slow his fighters down—and he needs to expand his borders. Otherwise he’s going to end up with another rebellion.”

I stop in my tracks. Another rebellion?

One of the Residents notices me, and her face morphs from surprise to grace. She nods carefully, violet curls spilling over her shoulders. When the others look up, they dip their heads.

They recognize me. I can see it in their shame. I’m a friend of Prince Caelan—someone they consider socially important—and I’ve overheard them discussing a change in management.

I nod politely and hurry along the path, annoyed at myself for stopping their gossip short. I want to know more about the rebellion. Because if there are humans in War fighting back and nearly winning… Well, maybe the Colony has been in the wrong court all along.

If the Orb is real, we might be able to stop the Residents. But if it’s not—if we can’t find it in Victory—I wonder if Annika would ever consider finding a way to join forces with the humans across the border?