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she nodded. “Be careful, all right?”

“I will be,” I promised, straightening up and closing the door. I moved down the hall toward the room Viggo and I had been sleeping in, where I grabbed my bag before heading back to the kitchen, where Owen was waiting.

“I’m ready,” I said.

He looked me over, nodding. “Good. Let’s go.”

37

Viggo

The darkness in the stadium held for five seconds, and then ten, and I shot a glance at Cad, who shrugged and began checking the wiring leading to the box the tech had brought. Little glittering lights from the console glowed against his face, so at least there was power moving through parts of the room… I turned, prepared to have Jeff get on the subvocalizer to Thomas, when the massive screens over the seats lit up, throwing a blue glow over the crowds below, and lighting up the faces of those who stood in the room with me.

I moved over to the windows, watching as the symbol of the Matrian flag—a curved grain of wheat—flashed across the screen. The image held, and then faded. Then words, blocky and white, appeared:

Citizens of Patrus—you have been lied to.

Tabitha’s face filled the screen, her face smug. “What’s done is done—Patrus had no idea what was happening, and now they’ll see us as their saviors.”

It faded, followed by the words, King Maxen lives.

King Maxen’s image filled the screen, his expression imperious. “Citizens of Patrus! I am alive and well, but hidden away from Elena’s forces. To prove this was not previously recorded, I should tell you what only the darkest rumors have alluded to: I was there when the palace fell.”

Even I had a visceral reaction to his face on the screen, and I could tell, even from up here, the crowd below felt the same way. It had been a smart idea on Thomas’ part to include video of the king; his death was one of the biggest lies Elena had fed to the populace. No doubt she would try to spin it—but this would be hard to spin.

“The king can be dealt with,” Tabitha sneered on the screen. “Perhaps he’ll go insane after being kidnapped by terrorists and have to spend the rest of his life taking his own drugs… Perhaps he’ll get in a fight with the Chancellor and fall down some stairs…”

“In spite of the late Princess Tabitha’s claims, I have not been taken by terrorists,” said the king, his face returning to the screen. “But rather, patriots of humanity.” I smirked, knowing that last bit had been Violet’s idea. According to Ms. Dale, it had taken Maxen several takes before he could say it without a sneer. “They sheltered me, kept me safe… and many of them originally hail from Matrus. But they saw their government’s corruption, and chose to take a stand, to help us. While the ideological differences of the past have kept us apart, these individuals have chosen to overlook them in order to help free us from this tyranny.”

The screen switched back to Tabitha. “As soon as our scientists crack the code, we’ll be on our way to creating a new race of humans, far superior to what your kind has churned out for the last few generations.”

“As you can see,” the king continued, “Princess Tabitha and her sister, Queen Elena, have been working on a plan to supplant us all with a new race of humans, capable of extraordinary feats of strength, speed, invulnerability. You see…”

I turned my gaze away from the screen and looked out at the crowd as King Maxen began to explain the genetic experiments performed on Elena and her sisters, and later performed on the boys collected by the Matrian screening process. He didn’t touch on that for very long—Thomas had said this was, statistically, the least believable part of the situation—before he began discussing the Matrian bombing of the city, the slaughter at Ashabee manor, and the horrific death camps.

“I myself saw,” his voice told the crowd, “Matrian wardens open fire on a room full of innocent women and children. I was there.” I felt a spike of fury at the sadness he affected, remembering the day he was referring to—how he had hidden like a shameless coward. I tried to set it aside.

The crowd’s faces were too far away for me to make out their expressions, but all were locked on the screen, on King Maxen. A few were standing up, their shock propelling them into motion. It was a good sign. I imagined the crowds of Patrians gathered to watch the streaming in every other stadium right at this moment, having the same reaction.

“All right,” I said, dragging my attention away from the presentation. “Jeff, tell Thomas to bring the ambulance around to the southern entrance.”

Jeff nodded and began mouthing the orders, while I went over to Cruz. Pulling a knife from my boot, I cut the bonds securing him to the pipe, then removed the tape from his mouth. His gaze, too, was focused on the screen, his lips parted and his brows drawn tight.

“Is this for real?” he gasped as I untied his shoelaces and helped him up from the ground.

“As real as it gets,” I replied. Jeff rushed over to us, unclipping the subvocalizer from around his throat.

“Here,” he said, thrusting it out to me and taking his handgun out of the holster cinched under his jacket. I wrapped the black swatch around my throat, the icy tingle freezing my vocal cords in place, while he moved to the door, pulling it open and joining Amber and Ms. Dale in the hall. We had no idea if or when the guards would be coming—in fact, we had planned for there to be guards pouring into the room about now—but we knew there was going to be a massive response to this, so we needed to get going.

I tapped Cad on the shoulder. Let’s go, I subvocalized, knowing he’d hear me through his

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