The One (The Selection, #3)(26)

Maxon nodded soberly. They’d die, of course.

“Should we cave?” Maxon suggested. I looked over at him, surprised.

“Trust us,” Georgia said. “They’re not going to get any better if you give in.”

“But there must be something more we can do,” Maxon insisted.

“You’ve already done something pretty empowering. Well, she did,” August said, dipping his head in my direction. “From what we’re able to tell, farmers are keeping their axes with them if they leave their fields, seamstresses walk the street with scissors clutched in their hands, and you’ll see Twos parading around with disarming spray. No matter the caste, everyone seems to have found some way to arm themselves, just in case. Your people don’t want to live in fear, and they’re not. They’re fighting back.”

I wanted to cry. For maybe the first time in all of the Selection, I’d done something right.

Maxon squeezed my hand, proud. “That’s a comfort,” he said. “Still, it doesn’t feel like enough.”

I nodded. I was so happy the public wasn’t rolling over, but there had to be a way to stop this once and for all.

August sighed. “We’ve wondered if there was a way for us to attack them. They’re not fighting with any sort of training—they just go after people. Our supporters are nervous about being identified, but they’re everywhere. And they might be the best source for a surprise assault.

“In many ways, we’re already an army of sorts, but we’re essentially unarmed. We can’t possibly beat the Southerners when the majority of our forces fight with bricks or rakes.”

“You want weapons?”

“Wouldn’t hurt.”

Maxon considered this. “There are things you can do that we simply can’t from the palace. But I don’t like the idea of sending any of my people on a mission to take out these savages. Certainly they would die.”

“That’s possible,” August confessed.

“There’s also the small issue of me not being able to guarantee you won’t use any weapons I give you against me eventually.”

August snorted. “I don’t know how to make you believe that we’re on your side, but it’s true. All we’ve ever wanted was to see an end to the castes, and we’re prepared to support you to that end. I have no intentions of ever harming you, Maxon, and I think you know that.” He and Maxon shared a very long look. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t be here now.”

“Your Majesty,” Aspen said. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but there are some of us who would like to see the Southern rebels gone as much as you would. I would personally volunteer to train anyone in something more along the lines of hand-to-hand combat.”

My chest swelled with pride. That was my Aspen, always trying to fix things.

Maxon nodded at him before turning back to August. “That’s something I’ll need time to think about. I might be able to provide training, but I couldn’t arm you. Even if I was sure of your intentions, if there’s any link between us, I can’t imagine what my father would do.”

Without thinking, Maxon flexed the muscles across his back. It seemed to me that maybe he’d done that a lot in the time I’d known him, only I hadn’t understood its meaning. Even now he was hyperaware of his secret.

“True. In fact, you should probably already be leaving. I’ll get word to you as soon as we have more information, but for now it looks good. Well, as good as we could hope for.” August passed Maxon a note. “We have one landline. You can call if there’s something urgent. Micah here, he’s on top of those things.”

August motioned to the boy who hadn’t made a sound the whole time. He pulled his lips into his mouth like he might be biting them and gave us a small nod. Something about his stance suggested he was both shy and eager at once.

“Very good. I’ll use it with discretion.” Maxon placed the paper in his pocket. “I’ll be in touch soon.” He stood and I followed suit, looking over at Georgia as I did so.

She came around the table to me. “Be safe getting back. And that number is for you, too, you know.”

“Thank you.” I gave her a quick hug and headed out with Maxon, Aspen, and Officer Avery. I took one last glance at our strange friends before the door closed and was bolted behind us.

“Get away from the truck,” Aspen said. I turned to see what he meant, as we weren’t even close yet.

Then I saw that Aspen wasn’t talking to me. A handful of men were circling the vehicle. One had a wrench in his hands, looking as if he was about to try and steal the tires. Another two were at the back, trying to open the metal doors.

“Just give us the food, and we’ll go,” one said. He looked younger than most of the others, maybe Aspen’s age. His voice was cold and desperate.

I hadn’t noticed back at the palace that the truck we were jumping into had a massive Illéa emblem on the side. As I stood there looking at the small crowd of haggard men, this seemed like an incredibly stupid oversight. And while Maxon and I weren’t dressed like ourselves, that wouldn’t help very much if anyone got too close. Even though I wouldn’t have known the first thing to do with one, I wished I had a weapon.

“There is no food,” Aspen said calmly. “And if there was, it wouldn’t be yours to take.”