WAR STORM (Red Queen 4// Alternate Version)

Chapter 20

Mare

"I would ask questions, but I suppose it's time to go." I watch Iris intently, and she fastens her eyes on me, her expression wiped off anything that will hint at her emotions. She's bedecked in a layered cobalt dress, the sole reminder of the masquerade, despite me being in its ruins just moments ago.

The nameless Sentinel slaps at the side of the transport, startling me out of the nymph's gaze and into the vehicle. It's not like Maven's armored transports he uses to make practically a spectacle out of, plastering the Nortan seal and ribbons on the black. This automobile is tragically blue, like Iris's clothing, easy to locate and conquer. It won't matter, though, unless we make it out of the city and into the countryside, where dark green coloring would be more helpful.

Tyton climbs into the passenger's seat, next to the guard, and Iris and I take up residence in the back. My door hardly slams shut before his boot in pressed on the gas peddle, and I lurch against the headrest, digging my nails into the cushion. Iris, however trained and queenly she may be, replicates my movement. "Couldn't you go faster, Nornus?" Iris asks sarcastically. Aside from her joking manner, I've learned that the Sentinel is a Swift.

Nornus hits a sharp left, curving out of the lot we had just been in. Hitting the seat between Iris and me with my hand, my arm braces against yet another jolting movement; it wouldn't be a surprise for my collarbone to break under the stress, but I hear no cracking sounds.

The backside of Whitefire blurs on my left, a stream a buttery yellow lighting from residential rooms and reflections of the moon-fully out in the open- glimmering against the sections of diamondglass that aren't illuminated from the inside. To my right, behind Iris's window, darkness-sparsely deterred-reigns. Staggered guard towers form a half circle around the palace, the side that isn't crowded with government edifices, and floodlights wander to and fro, forever on the lookout for those who are going to break in. Fools, I can't help but think. They should be breaking out, not in.

"When we hatched this plan, I assumed you knew how to drive." Iris has her hips twisted around themselves, allowing her to peer out the window panel that gives us a rear view of our path, territory we have already crossed. I copy her actions and my eyes are assaulted by two transports, with Maven's signature lustrous black paint glinting in the moonlight. Three cycles that remind me of riding to my house in the Stilts with Cal trail the bulky but efficient vehicles. They're too far away too fire at, having come from a different exit than we did, on the adjacent side of Whitefire.

"You try steering at this speed, Majesty," the Sentinel retorts, keeping his gaze on the road before us. "My ability applies to my body, not this car."

As Nornus swings the car around another bend, the three-tiered bridge that spans the Capitol River looms ahead. East Archeon rests across the waterway, merchants and businessmen still working, judging by the high-rises continuing to fight with the pressing darkness with more lights. The Archeon Bridge is certainly grand, if not imposing, for what it means to me. An escape. Maven would sheer the metal tethers supporting the bridge himself if it guaranteed my capture. And according to my count, it would be my third. He would drown all the men and women crossing the bridge if it meant my return.

The water.

"Iris," I say, tilting my head away from Maven's soldiers, who are nearly in shooting range. Her eyes lock with mine, acquiring that leary yet powerful aspect. I don't trust her, but my options are few and far between. "Can you reach the water from the river down there?" I motion to the flowing mass forty feet below us, frothing whitecaps against the titanium poles that extend into the liquid.

She looks between the gap dividing Tyton and Nornus's seats, rubbernecking the distance. The arch presses closer with every second, but it's still quite the drop down to connect with the substance. Iris tilts her head, a peaceful expression laying over the face of a warrior. "You don't know much about the Cygnets, I see. An Osanos, on the other hand may have difficulties. I'll do it." Before anyone can object, she's cranking the window open with the knob fixed to the door, and anchors her fingers around the ledge.