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We head into the street, a h the Red sector of the city Safe for now, surrounded by nothing more than Red homes and businesses, with few if any Silver officers to watch us pass As in Harbor Bay, Rocasta maintains its own Red Watch, to protect what Silvers won’t Though we’re heading for the sa space between us Can’t exactly rove into the city center looking like a ju Tristan keeps close again, letting me lead us to our destination--the Iron Road As in Corviuh its heart like river through valley As we get closer to theto the ho fro their children to ramshackle schools

And of course,street Their uniforms, black with silver trileauns and clubs at their waists Funny, they feel the need to wear unifor mistaken for Red One of us Not a chance Their skin, undershot with blue and gray, leached of everything alive, is distinguishing enough There is no Red on earth so cold as a Silver

Ten yards ahead of us, Rasha stops so quickly her partner, Martenson, al she has about six inches on the graying Little Papa Next to me, Tristan tenses, but doesn’t break for is above the Guard, not even affection

The Silver legionnaires drag a boy by the ar for eighteen I doubt he needs to shave I do , but his nored She folloobehind Her hands clutch at her son’s shirt, offering one last bout of resistance to his conscription

The street seeedy

A crack echoes and she falls backward, clutching a bruising cheek The legionnaire didn’t even lift a finger or even look up frorim work He must be a telkie and used his abilities to swat the woman away

"You orse?" he snaps when shehis last free words to beg

This will not last This will not continue This is why I’m here

Even so, itfor this boy and his h for him Perhaps he will survive, I tell lasses traionnaire’s foot says otherwise The boy will die like so many others In a trench or in a wasteland, alone at the very end

"I can’t watch this," Ie hesitation, Tristan follows

I can only hope Rasha stays the course as well as he does But I understand She lost two sisters to Lakelander conscriptions, and fled her ho the saates to choke the ends of the Iron Road An easy place to enter, but it makes our task a bitsupply convoy co escorts peel off, taking different shortcuts to the same destination On another day,the journey Not so now Because it’s First Friday Today is the Feat of July

A ridiculous Nortan tradition, albeit an effective one, if the intelligence is to be believed Arenas in al blood once a month Reds are required to attend, to sit and watch Silver chae perfor in the Lakelands Silvers don’t feel the need to show off against us, and the storied threat of Norta is enough to keep everyone terrified