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“Need me to take care of that?” Clover asked defensively.
“Clover!” Thea said with a wide smile. She took Kerrigan’s hands in her own. “You made it.”
“Are many people talking to you like that?”
“Oh no,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. “Nothing I can’t handle. Let’s get you set up somewhere in the Square.”
“Everyone seems afraid,” Kerrigan noticed.
Thea sighed. “I know. We gave them a pep talk, but it didn’t help. They believe in the cause, but they fear the consequences of being here. Despite the fact that this is sanctioned by the Society.”
“They don’t want to give us rights, but they’ll let us march for them,” Clover ground out.
Kerrigan tapped her finger to her lip as she thought about what to do. This wasn’t going to do anything. She could feel it in her bones. These people weren’t prepared for what was happening. They needed inspiration to make them stand up for what they believed in.
What had Dozan called her at the last meeting? A symbol.
Scales.
“Where are you going?” Clover cried as Kerrigan marched across the Square to the protestors.
But Kerrigan couldn’t answer because if she did, she’d second-guess herself. And she needed every ounce of reckless confidence in her system.
She drew her hood back enough for her red curls to frame her face. She looked into the eyes of the couple dozen people standing around, clouded in fear.
“Do you know who I am?” she asked.
The people at the front of the group gasped. Eyes widened into saucers. Whispers broke out. That answered that question.
Kerrigan held her hand up. And when they all fell silent, she put her finger to her lips. “I’m not here right now. Do you understand?”
A girl in the front nodded. “The Society can’t know?”
“That’s right. They can’t know.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” Kerrigan took a deep breath, “they’re afraid of me.”
More whispers.
The girl at the front shushed them. “Listen to her.”
“We’re not here today because of me. We’re here because of you,” Kerrigan insisted. “But I did what the Society thought was impossible. I got into their sacred halls. I’m going to challenge them and help you. But first, you have to prove that my cause is valid. Let them hear your battle cry. Tell them no longer will you live in the shadow of the Fae. Only through you can I succeed. Will you fight with me today?”
This time, there were no whispers, only cheers as the crowd swelled with excitement. She’d given them what they needed—a reason, not just a cause.
She put her finger to her lips again and ducked back fully under the hood of her cloak. Excitement glittered in their eyes. They were in on the secret. They were part of something bigger. Fear was still there, but now, it mingled with purpose. And through purpose, they could all succeed.
Kerrigan went from group to group, reciting the variations of the same speech. A hundred people saw her face that day, knew who she was, and came to her battle cry. She wasn’t ready to reveal herself publicly, but this was as close as she could get. It was likely that it could reach the Society after this, but she still had plausible deniability.
When she returned to Thea and Clover, they stared at her in awe.
“Thank you,” Thea said, tears coming to her eyes. “You have no idea what this means to us.”
“I think I do,” Kerrigan told her. “I know what it would have meant to me to have someone fight for me when I felt like I had nothing.”
Thea squeezed her hand. “You’re a blessing from the Lament. I will pray for you.”
Kerrigan’s eyes widened as Thea whispered something unintelligible over her hands. “Uh, thanks?”
Clover tried not to laugh. “We’re ready when you are, Thea.”
“Yes, let’s begin the march.”
Thea led the charge. Kerrigan could see that Clover wanted to be up there, leading with her. She pushed Clover forward.
“I’ll hang back with you.”
“No, go on. You deserve it,” Kerrigan said.
Clover waffled for a moment and then fell into step with Thea. Kerrigan waited until she was near the back of the group with the stragglers and then entered the protest. Fae came out of their storefronts to hear Thea’s protest cry—rights for all—on repeat. Some people sneered and called them names, but many more of them nodded along and even called out chants in agreement. Kerrigan would never have guessed so many Fae would agree with them.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” Dozan said, slipping to her side at the back of the protest.
His own brown-red hair was covered by a cloak. He’d swapped out his Wastes red for another all-black suit. His amber eyes flitted with danger and lust.
“Even you can’t ruin this for me,” she told him.
“Why would I ruin it, princess?” He reached for her hair, but she grabbed his wrist on reflex.
