23

A s soon as it grew dark, Roman slipped back home across the field for sandwiches and a flask of hot soup. We fed the guard and Daniel spent a long time down in the basement with him, but the man wasn’t interested in the state of affairs in Capra and he didn’t believe we planned to release him alive. I wasn’t proud of torturing the poor guard—he’d only been performing his duty—but I hoped he’d forgive us.

I didn’t sleep at all.

None of us did.

We sat vigil through the night, nursing the prospect of tomorrow as if it were a sickly child with grim ailments. Lisa would change her mind, or someone would catch the imposter insert before the newsletter went out. I’d made the gathering first thing in the morning, so Geneva wouldn’t have time to put proper countermeasures in place, but that was still a probability.

But more than all of that, the idea of hundreds of citizens flocking to the town square tomorrow was too enormous for me to comprehend.

They weren’t ready.

I wasn’t ready.

I was still grappling with the notion that I wasn’t alone, that I’d never been alone. I’d only meant to sow some whispers, then watch from The Smoke as new generations, generations much bolder than ours, nurtured their voices over time.

Dawn arrived, and then an hour later Lisa walked in, wheeling a bulging suitcase. “In case it all goes wrong. The newsletters have been picked up, but there’s no guarantee someone won’t spot the difference before the stacks are distributed for delivery. It’s out of our hands now.”

Roman gave her directions to the tunnel’s service hatch. “If we’re separated and it goes bad, we’ll meet there. That’s our route to The Smoke.”

The tension in the air was palpable, charged with nervous energy and frissons of excitement.

“What do we do about the guard?” If we had to flee, who would find him? “Should we release him before we set out for the square?”

“I’ll scout out the square before you go anywhere,” Roman said. “It’s a numbers game. Geneva can’t throw hundreds of people into rehab, but she’ll have no problem if there’s only a handful.”

I shook my head. “I’m not Geneva. I won’t throw a handful to the wolves while I sit safe and pretty. I’m going.”

Roman came to stand in front of me, his palms cupping my cheek, the intensity of his gaze rooting me to him. “That’s not what I’m asking you to do. A dozen or so people milling around the square haven’t done anything wrong. But you’ll be recognized.”

“He’s right,” Lisa said. “I have no interest in playing the martyr.”

I agreed, Roman could go scout first, but I made no promises about the rest. As the hour of gathering drew close, Jessie arrived in a fluster of activity, charging through the house, calling for us, and waving the newsletter madly. “This was slipped under my door this morning! Look!”

We huddled around her and there it was, at least one batch had gone out with my words.

“Did you come through the square?” Daniel asked. “Did you see anything?”

“Oh!” She slapped her forehead. “I should have done that, shouldn’t I? The streets were busy, but I don’t know if people were going to work or the square.”

Roman waited another quarter hour, then he left to go check it out. When he returned, he’d brought his truck.

“Release the guard,” he issued to Daniel. “We’re driving. By the time he reaches town on foot, he won’t be our biggest problem anymore.”

“Driving where?” I asked for clarity. “The town square or The Smoke?”

“Is The Smoke an option?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” A suave grin snuck across his darkly beautiful features and cracked his mask. “People have started gathering. I’m comfortable with the numbers.”

Lisa pumped the air with a fist.

Jessie went quiet.

“You don’t have to join us,” I said to her. “You’ve done more than your fair part.”

“I’m not missing this,” she said. “But I must admit, I’m a little scared.”

“I’m a lot scared.” It wasn’t a joke, but it got a smile out of her.

We piled into the truck, Daniel up front with Roman and the rest of us on the rear bunk. Daniel had let the guard out through the basement door, so I hadn’t seen him, but I imagined he wasn’t hanging around.

The streets were quiet as we drove through Parklands and into town, but as we neared the square, we saw why. Everyone was here. Not hundreds. Thousands…possibly the entire population of Capra. They walked the full breadth of the street ahead of us, forcing us to abandon the truck. They streamed into the alleys and arteries that fed into the square, filled the walkways and overflowed onto the plaza of the Foundation Hall.

This many people made a lot of noise, breaths and coughs and shuffled feet and indistinguishable murmurs, but there were no raised voices. We made our way behind the stragglers and onto the plaza.

Roman hooked his arm through mine to keep us from getting separated. “Your rebellion of words has no words, but you can feel how much they’re saying.”

“It’s not my rebellion anymore.” Cool tears stung my eyes. I couldn’t believe how many people had turned up. “It belongs to everyone now.”

Daniel and Jessie and Lisa stayed close, and we moved into the crowd as one unit, a fragile rowboat rocking through a sea of Capra citizens. It wasn’t long before people became aware of us, recognized me or Daniel or maybe both of us, and they started to part and spread the word. A path opened up for us through the crowd and whispers rippled into a chorus and became a chant.

The Flame.

The Flame.

The Flame.

My heart caught fire.

Our little party came to a halt.

“They’re opening a path to the bandstand,” Lisa said.

Daniel bent his head toward me. “They want to hear you speak.”

Roman turned me around to look at him. “What do you want to do?”

The Flame.

The Flame.

They were calling for the flame, but it was their bravery, their resilience, the power of their voices that pulsed throughout the square.

My gaze went over his shoulder, to the pillared entrance of the Foundation building, to the guards stationed by the arched doors. “Geneva’s inside there. Watching. The people of Capra have spoken. I want to make sure she listens.”

Roman considered that, then gave a slow nod.

We changed direction, and the crowd at our back parted, the chant following as we made our way across the plaza to the Foundation Hall. Daniel stayed with us, but Jessie and Lisa melted into the crowd.

Three guards blocked the entrance, two women and a man, armed with rifles and severe expressions. This was Geneva’s countermeasure, to throw open the armory and hand out weapons.

“Georga West.” The woman stepped forward, her rifle cocked. “I have orders to bring you in.”

Roman shoved me behind him. “She’s also the flame. Do you hear that?” He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder. “You’ll have a blood bath on your hands.”

“I’m coming in anyway,” I said, stepping out from around Roman. “Take me to Geneva.”

The woman’s gaze bounced between me and Roman and the crowd, and her strutting confidence wavered.

“Just you,” she said, nudging at me with the barrel of the rifle.

Roman didn’t even bother acknowledging that. A minute later, Daniel, Roman and I were being led up the stairway to Geneva’s corner office on the top floor.

We didn’t have to knock. Her door stood open, as if she’d been expecting us. Although, maybe not.

She was seated at her desk, a look of surprise crossing her face before it hardened. She stood abruptly and came around the desk. Her gaze swept across me and Daniel, flicked to Roman, then landed on me again with contempt. “What have you done?”

I smiled at her. I wasn’t feeling it, my stomach cramped with nerves, but I refused to show an ounce of weakness. “Look out your window, Geneva, there’s your answer. The people of Capra have made their stand.”

The look in her eyes turned brittle. “What do you want?”

“This isn’t about what I want or about what you want,” I said. “Are you willing to talk?”

She wasn’t, that was clear in the mutiny set into her expression, but she didn’t have a choice.

Roman stopped me at the threshold. “I’m not here in any official capacity, but I’m still a warden. I can’t be part of a political strategy meeting.”

Wardens remained impartial to town business, always. “I understand.”

“I’ll be right here, if she gives you any trouble.” He ushered Daniel and me inside and closed the door, cutting himself off from any discussions within the room.

Geneva went to stand by the window, staring out over the pavilion. “I underestimated you. But out of everything you’ve done…” She turned to stab a look at Daniel “…this disappoints the most.” Her gaze moved on to me. “Daniel Edgar may be your friend, but council runs in his blood and it is thick. His allegiance will always lie with them.”

“My allegiance lies with Capra,” he said stiffly.

She ignored him, her gaze pricking me. “I don’t know what he filled your head with, but he will take back everything we worked to achieve. Is that really what you want?”

“You still don’t get it.” I stepped deeper into the room, shaking my head at her. “This isn’t about what I want. It never was. It’s about what the people of Capra want.”

Her brow arched with impertinence. “The people of Capra want the Sisterhood. We speak for them. We stand for them. They were perfectly content with the reforms we were bringing about, until you confused them.”

“Maybe that’s true,” I said. “Maybe they do want the Sisters of Capra.”

She looked astounded, then suspicious.

I shrugged. “Let’s ask them.”

“Ah, I see.” She huffed out a dry laugh and crossed to her desk, where she picked up her copy of the newsletter and read, “We had the council. Now we have the Sisters of Capra. The old world leaders were elected by the people…”

She peered at me. “What if they choose the council? What if we’re returned to the dark days?”

“What if they choose the Sisters of Capra?” I left that hanging, dangling like bait, then added softly, “You can’t mow down every citizen in the square, Geneva. The tide has turned. There’s no going back. You either swim with it, or you and the Sisterhood will drown.”

She moved to the window again, casting her gaze outside while seconds ticked to minutes, then she finally brought herself into the room again, sat behind her desk and gestured Daniel and me into the visitor chairs. “How would this work?”

I shared a look with Daniel. “You can explain it better than me.”

“Well, the details must still be ironed out, but there are a few fundamental principles.” He shifted in his chair, not squirming, but not entirely comfortable beneath her seething attitude toward him. That’s exactly why I’d given him the floor.

“The people will nominate their candidates,” he said. “Everyone and anyone is eligible. The top ten nominees will stand as official candidates and the people will then cast a final vote to elect three joint leaders.”

“You’re suggesting three leaders, not one?” Geneva looked at me. “That sounds like a council to me.”

“It’s a committee, a tri-electorate body that accommodates more voices, not just the loudest one.”

She fixed a piercing look on me, searching my head, hunting for my weaknesses, and found none.

“I will be put forward as an official candidate,” she declared.

“We haven’t even started the process and already you’re rigging it.”

“It’s one place out of ten and I’m not the only one with an unfair advantage.” She held a finger up and cocked her ear. “Listen to the people chanting outside. They heard you before anyone else had a chance to speak. They will vote overwhelmingly in your favor.”

I scowled at her, at myself, because was she right? “That’s not what I want.”

“As you keep pointing out, this is not about what you want, Georga. You put it out there, and now it is there.” She pursed her lips. “That is my condition. And you should know, I may drown in the aftermath, but I can put up quite the fight if that’s what you prefer.”

I was sure she could turn this into a war, and she would.

“Daniel will be put forward as well.” I checked with him. “If you’re okay with that? Otherwise it will appear biased, as if our support lies with the Sisterhood. This way, we’re bringing on one person from each of the previous regimes. In the end, the people will have the final say.”

Daniel inclined his head. “I’m okay with that.”

I flourished a hand at Geneva. “That is my condition.”

“You’re making a mistake, but since you insist, we’ll trust the people to choose wisely.”

There was still a lot to discuss and it was another before Geneva called for the technical team to set up a screening in her office. We’d decided that as the head of the current establishment, the message would be clearer, with no scope for doubt or any backtracking, if it came directly from Geneva.

Daniel and I stood to one side. I had something to say, but she would address the people first.

Once she was prepped for the camera, she took her seat behind her desk. “Dear Citizens, you have spoken, and we have listened.”

Daniel tipped his head to me. “You’d think this was her idea.”

A member of the support staff glared at us and put a finger to his lips.

“Keep an eye on her and what she says,” I whispered to Daniel and slipped out the room to fill Roman in on everything.

Geneva wouldn’t speak for long, so I didn’t have much time to explain myself to him before someone popped out to call me back inside.

It was my turn to address the people. To say what I had to say, for possibly the last time.

I sucked in a deep breath. “Do I look like a nightmare?”

His smile came on slow and steady, washing me in warmth. “You look beautiful.”

“I haven’t even showered this morning.”

He placed a hand on my shoulder, steadying me, and held my gaze. “Are you sure about this?”

I didn’t have to think about it. “One hundred percent sure.”

My throat went dry when I stepped in front of the camera. I couldn’t see the people, the cameraman and his encouraging smile filled my vision.

Beyond the walls of the Foundation Hall, a crescendo of voices rose into, “ The Flame! The Flame! ” and I knew the people could see me.

I put a hand up, a hesitant, shy wave, and waited for the noise to simmer down, and then I started speaking.

“Dear Friends, thank you for coming today, for standing as one. Look to your left, look to your right, look at what we have done.”

I looked into the camera, forced to wait as another chorus of chants went up.

“In the following days, you’ll be given the opportunity to nominate your candidates, as has been explained to you. Think carefully, choose wisely, and please be aware that I am withdrawing myself from any nomination. So if you were thinking of showing your support by voting for The Flame, please do not . I’d hate to see even one voice lost in a vote that will not count.

“My place is not up here, on a screen. My place is there—” I gestured toward the camera, to the people “—standing with you, standing amongst you, and if ever a time comes when we are not heard, my voice will join with yours and we will roar.”

I stood there a moment longer, smiling at the roar of voices that shook the air and trembled the glass in the windows, and then I stepped away from the camera and walked out of the room into the hallway, where Roman waited for me.

“Let’s go home.”

He threw an arm around my shoulder, tucking me close as we walked. “And where is home?”

I tilted my head to look up at him. “Home is wherever you are. I’ve done all I have to do.”

Warmth and humor creased into his eyes. “Until you find something new that must be done.”

My heart swelled with love and all the things that made Roman. “Well, now that you mention it, I have been thinking about the wilds and the unknown world beyond the river. I know it’s dangerous, but you’ve gone and returned and I’m sure we can find a way to sneak passed the barons and—”

His mouth came down, crushing my words in a kiss that melted me to the bone.

“Is that your way of silencing me?” I said when I found my breath again. “Not that I’m complaining. Keep doing that, and I’ll happily remain silent forever.”

His grin was arrogant and charming and sexy as all sin. “By forever, I take it you mean a week or two?”

“Hmm, that kiss was definitely worth a month.” I grinned impishly. “Maybe two.”