His Red Queen

Chapter Forty-six

No one even has the chance to mull over Elane's proposal because Volo Samos storms into the room. Behind him is a small legion of Newbloods—Maven's alleged army.

He did not tell me where he had them living. But if Maven was hiding earlier, he certainly was not in the training room with them.

Everyone's defenses heighten. Evangeline suddenly has a long rapier in her hand, Elane goes invisible, Ptolemus pulls a gun from his metal holster. Iris begins pulling moisture from the air, creating an odd blob of water. Cal's flamemakers spark orange.

Beside me, Maven erupts into flames. I summon my own lightning, steeling myself for this battle. Not everyone is going to make it out of here alive, I realize. I gulp down my fear and stand beside my husband, facing people that have betrayed not only me, but him.

"What are you doing here, Volo?" Maven growls.

Volo shrugs. I notice an iron crown on his silver hair. "What anyone with a group of dispensable Reds would do." None of the people behind him so much as flinch. It's as if they are not only under his command, but controlled by him. But that's impossible; Volo is a magnetron, not a whisper or singer. My palms begin sweating.

"What do you want?" Maven drawls, "You couldn't just send me a letter? That would be a bit more convenient, if I say so myself."

At her father's sure steps towards us, Evangeline steps back. I have never seen her so afraid as I do now. Ptolemus does not back down, though. Before Maven or I can do anything, the Prince of the Rift gets in his father's face.

"This is done, Father," Ptolemus spits. 

The Newbloods charge us. Volo does not move, nor does he pull out a weapon. He just stands there, staring at everyone, his face suddenly blank. Ptolemus shoves him, a panicked expression on his white face. "Father." He shakes him. 

The Newbloods surround him, forcing the rest of us away. 

Behind me, Cal curses. "What the fuck," he gasps. 

Maven's flames grow, and he sends a ball of them towards the crowd. It bounces off of thin air. A forcefield. Someone must have that as an ability. Instead of killing us, they attack Volo. Abilities of all forms and sheer anger from the people fuels them. Silver blood splatters across the forcefield. Some red, too.

My stomach churns. In the din, I can hear Evangeline scream.

None of this makes sense. 

The storm outside is growing more intense. I notice green and blue lightning dancing along my purple. 

Utter horror and shock crosses my husband's face as he watches as Volo is brutally killed. We all stare for a long moment as the forcefield disappears and the people stumble out. Seconds later, they all collapse to the floor. 

I turn away from Volo's body, bile rising in my throat. Maven puts a steady hand on my back, keeping me from breaking down right here. I've never liked Volo, in fact, I have hated him since I first saw him at Queenstrial. But his battered body, the blood... I never wanted to see him die. 

Evangeline cries. Ptolemus doesn't. He tries to comfort his sister but I can see the hatred on his face. And a sort of relief, as cruel as it is. 

"We need to bury him," Maven finally says. 

"What about the hundred people currently passed out on your floor?" Iris screeches. 

Elara enters, a blue flowing dress on, her blonde hair perfect, makeup done as if for a grand ball. She bends down next to one of the unconscious Newbloods. "Well done, my pets," she coos as if to a baby.