Page 39 of Silver Elite

“Then why are you here?” Skepticism flickers through her eyes.

I backpedal, realizing it might not be a smart idea to tell anyone I’m here against my will. At least not until I’ve determined how much I can trust them, although I have the feeling the answer to that will always benot at all.

“I’m a very impulsive person,” I finally say.

That gets me another laugh. “You just impulsively applied for Silver Block?”

“Pretty much. There were a bunch of soldiers in my village for Liberty Day, and I got to talking with one.” I grin. “More than talking, actually.”

She grins back.

“He made it sound really exciting, and the next thing I knew, I’m here.” I shrug.

Sounds plausible enough. And not entirely a lie. I probably am the most impulsive person I know. It’s something that Jim tried so hard to rein in with me. Even as a child, I was constantly racing toward danger. In the Blacklands, we had to bathe in a creek that was nearly a mile from our clearing, the one place with a pocket of sunlight. That meant venturing into the darkness, the pitch black where you couldn’t see your own hand in front of your face. Every time we heard a noise, I’d be so curious, wanting to investigate. Jim would haul me back and growl, “Girl, what are you doing? Stay behind me.”

I do a lot of things without thinking. Like taking that impossible shot on Liberty Day.

Jim was right. I should have let that boy die. Should have let the white coyote maul him.

I let it play out in my mind. Rachel would have grieved. We would’ve held a service for Robbie in the cemetery behind the town square, and I would’ve stood there, clenching my teeth and choking on my guilt at the knowledge that I could’ve made that shot—

No.

I don’t regret saving the boy.

Even though you got Jim killed?

I shove the thought away, banishing the accompanying shame into some place deep inside me. I’ll need to find a way to shield myself from it. To become numb to the reminder thatI’mthe reason the person I loved most in the world is dead. It’ll destroy me otherwise.

“Wren?”

I blink. “Sorry. What?”

“I was asking if anyone from your ward is here.” Lyddie gestures around the room.

I shake my head. “No. Do you know any of the other recruits?”

“Some.”

Once again, her gaze flits toward the group in the front. I focus on a girl with chin-length black hair and dark eyes that are too big for her face. She smirks when she notices me staring, then turns to talk to a young man with wavy brown hair that falls past his shoulders. When his gaze meets mine, a shiver runs through me. His eyes are the color of coal, but the temperature of ice. Cold and lifeless.

He observes me with the intensity of a predator in the Blacklands. His lips curve in a smile, and I tear my gaze away.

“Stay away from him,” Lyddie warns under her breath.

“Who is he?”

“Anson. He was in upper school with me. You don’t want to be around him. He…” She thinks about it. Then, in a flat voice, says, “He enjoys seeing people hurt.”

Well, that’s disturbing. “And the girl?”

“Kess. She’s a quat.”

I hide a smile. Lyddie proceeds to point out a few others and offerbits of information about each one. I let her talk without interruption. In a world where alliances shift like sand in the wind, knowledge is power, and I’d like to arm myself with as much as I can gather. I file away each name and face for future reference.

A female staple named Bryce whose father also works in Command Intelligence.

A blond soldier, Ivy, who’s retaking the Program after failing her first go-around.

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