Song of Rust Book 2: Song of Glass

written by Wren Haisley

The sequel to Song of Rust, please read that first if you're planning on reading this. Link is below.

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Chapter 1

The bars of the police truck are how I’m seeing this. A square, which used to be the garden courtyard of the Governor’s Palace, is now a flat concrete expanse, men marching left, right, left, right. 

Flint is on the seat next to me, also handcuffed. Across from us, Kollan Blanchard, a Stone revolutionary who got roped in with us. I can see his decorative black tattoos all over his arms and chest, since he’s wearing a dark gray tank top. He’s about twenty-five. The police truck stops, in front of a woman at the doors to her palace. 

Angel’s definitely abandoned the nice girl look, now wearing a long black velvet gown, and watching me closely, the crown sitting in an elegant hairstyle atop her head. 

“Caden,” She says, walking over, as the policemen take me out in handcuffs, followed by Flint and Kollan. Ashton is in a uniform not far off. “Good to see you,” She says with a smile, then glances over at my companions. “Oh, they’re cute too. I’ll keep them all. Throw them in the basement,” She announces, laughing, then blowing a kiss at a nearby guard. 

“You’re married,” I hiss at her. 

“Ashton’s a formality. I almost never speak to him on a daily basis,” She mumbles, then waves at him, standing off to the side. He nods back, then addresses his soldiers. “He’s only here to catch my enemies, which includes you.” She waves to the police to take us away. 

“Angel-” I start. She turns to me, her green eyes colder than winters in North Light. 

“Where’s Olive?” She asks, tilting her head. Flint lunges at her, but a vine appears out of nowhere, holding his arms back. “I’ll talk to you later, Metal,” She tells him, controlling the vines with her hands. 

“How are you doing that?” I ask, my mouth open. Angel pulls back the vines, which shrink and retract into a tiny jar hanging around her neck, sprouts no bigger than a ladybug. 

“After Olive’s little outburst, I did some research. And it’s not too hard to come across Magnet blood and experiment a bit,” She explains. “Plenty of Magnet blood everywhere, all you have to do is squeeze.” Angel turns and walks into her palace, while my friends and I are dragged over to a basement entrance. 

There’s a wall of wanted posters in the square that we pass. Julia Montgomery, Kollan Blanchard, Mercedes Langston, Jordan Garrett, Caden Imperos, Isaiah Carpenter, the list goes on. 

Flint’s is a newer one hanging up, since his arm just healed, so he can fight now. Uncle Jackson is there, Ember and Austin too… I’m just glad Casey isn’t one. I think, looking at the wall for new ones. Who’s Wyatt Dellyn? 

The original Governor’s Palace didn’t have a jail, so our cell is an empty storage room in the basement, with a new steel door and a set of bars. 

“They were waiting for us at the train station,” Flint mutters, as he sits on a rough wooden cot with a small pad. Kollan nods, watching the door. “How are we getting out of here?” 

“I don’t know,” I answer. “We didn’t tell anyone in the group where we were going, so unless Angel televises that she caught us, nobody knows we’re in trouble.” 

Kollan nods, and stands up, walking over to an open spot on the floor, starting to do his push-ups. I yawn, and lean back against the wall behind my cot, folding my arms. 



“Caden,” Angel says, stepping into the cell. Kollan looks up, but Flint’s asleep. I stare at the slightly-worn knee of my dark gray cargo pants. Angel groans. “Caden, get over here. I am the queen, you have to listen to me.” 

“I’m two months older,” I mutter, tilting my head as I look up at her. 

“You’re so childish!” She yells, then talks to her guards. “We’re having dinner, Caden,” She whines, after her guards enter the room on her orders. 

“That’s not my name,” I mutter. My hands are cuffed behind my back again, and they pull me towards the door, over to Angel. I’m taller than her. “You’re not very intimidating,” I inform her, and she glares at me, walking ahead. Her dress is strapless and deep green, made of satin. 

“Sit down. And if you try to run, they’ll shoot you,” Angel says, as we get into her dining room, redecorated since I was here last year. They uncuff me behind a chair with a plate in front of it, and I sit down, Angel across from me. 

“I don’t like this,” I mumble, as they lift the lid, and there’s some fish under the dome, sitting on my plate with some lemon slices and other vegetables. Angel curses at me. 

“What, do you want chicken tenders and fries? You’re such a toddler,” She mutters, picking up her fork. 

“Well, if I was in charge of the world, I would probably be able to afford chicken tenders, which are way better than…” I poke the fish head with my fork. “...this guy.” Angel rolls her eyes. 

“You’re probably just traumatized,” She mutters. “You’re using humor to deflect it.” I look up at her. 

“Genius, Angie. I wonder what event about two months ago would have triggered any traumatized feelings,” I mutter sarcastically, tossing the fish eye at her. She yelps, and glares at me. 

“That revolution needed to be quelled. And with Olive gone, you’re mine. Well, you were always mine. You just got distracted,” She says, tilting her head. 

“I talked to you about three times total growing up. I barely even knew you before the competition,” I tell her. 

“Oh, and Olive was any better? She was some nobody from Metal Island!” Angel throws her hands up, then sighs. “We shouldn’t argue. I just want to talk to you.” I fold my arms, sticking my tongue out at her. “Save your tongue for later,” She mutters, then stands up, her palms on the table. “I’ve just ordered Ashton to be killed. He’s probably dead by now. If you join my side, I won’t harm your friends, and they can return home.” She smiles at me. 

“What did Ashton do?” I ask. She shrugs. 

“Well, I’m only allowed one husband,” She says, shrugging, then comes to sit on the table next to my plate. She pushes my plate to the side, moving to sit in front of me, one of her legs sticking out of the slit in her skirt. I stare up at her, then tilt my head. 

“Who’s the new husband?” I ask. She smacks my arm, glaring. 

“Don’t be an idiot,” She hisses. 

“You’re one to talk. I’ve told you many times that I’m not interested in you.” I reach for my plate again, scooting my chair so I’m to her left, and start eating the green vegetables again. “Go back to your food. If you don’t eat your veggies, you don’t get dessert,” I tell her. She glares at me, then moves down and sits on my lap, her arms around my shoulders. “Go away.” 

“Olive’s gone. There’s no sense in waiting for her to come back.” She says, and takes off my glasses, setting them on the table behind her. 

“Oh, good, now I can’t see you,” I mutter. Angel groans, and stands up, walking away. 

“We’re getting married!” She yells, then turns to her guards. “Put him back with his friends.” I roll my eyes, and the guards walk me back to my cell. 

Flint’s still asleep, and Kollan stares at the ceiling, sighing. “I’m guessing she tried to make a deal?” He asks, sighing. 

“She’s not big on my consent to the deal, but yeah,” I mutter. 

“Yeah, she sounds annoying,” He comments quietly, then sighs. “Your girlfriend could… do stuff like what the queen did with the vines?” He asks. 

“Not exactly that, but close,” I answer. Kollan nods, and folds his arms. 

“Do you need to talk about her?” He asks, looking over. I shrug. 

“I’m not great at that part,” I answer, my voice cracking slightly. Kollan nods, and I put my hands over my face, taking deep breaths. 

“I’ll negotiate with the queen. She’s a simple minded girl, she’ll fall for anything,” Kollan says, and I nod. “Plus, she’s super hot. If you don’t want her.” I turn and raise an eyebrow, looking at him. He shrugs. 

“You’re one of the leaders of a revolution. They won’t like to hear that you’re trying to flirt with their number one enemy,” I tell him. He chuckles. 

“Maybe I can change her,” He jokes. I roll my eyes. 

“If you manage to, I’ll give you everything I own,” I tell him with a laugh. “Angie doesn’t change.” Kollan laughs. 

“Angie isn’t right, Annie will work, maybe,” He speculates. “Next time she comes by, I’ll go. I’ve seduced plenty of people.” 

“She’s not picky with them,” I inform him, then chuckle. “Just be safe.” I tell him. Flint sits up, squinting at us. 

“Who are we seducing?” He asks, and Kollan bursts out laughing. The guards eye us through the door. 

“This guy thinks he can get the queen to like him, so we can get out of here.” I tell Flint, who turns and stares at Kollan. 

“The same queen we met earlier, right? The psychopath?” He asks. Kollan nods. 

“I know you two like good girls or whatever, but I’m not boring,” Kollan tells us, and Flint gapes. 

“Trust me, this isn’t the kind of bad girl you’re thinking of,” He says. “And I’ve only ever liked one girl, so I don’t have a type.” I roll my eyes at him. 

“Two, Flint. You like Sadie,” I remind him. Flint’s jaw drops, and he stumbles for words. 

“No, I don’t…” He mumbles, and Kollan laughs. 

“Nice try hiding it, but I know you like my stepsister. We both know it,” He says, pointing to me, and Flint rolls his eyes before lying down.  



“You know, Caden, I got a 150 on the Beauty Level test,” Angel tells me, climbing onto my cot and moving to sit between my legs. I blink. 

“Yeah, I saw it on the news, you changed the face it compared people with to your face,” I mutter, my arms folded. She laughs. “You’re that insecure, that you need a computer program to tell everyone you’re the most perfect person?” I ask. She scoffs. 

“I bet your precious little Magnet girl is even lower on the scale now, being crushed by a building and dead several months,’ Angel teases, leaning back on my chest, and looking up at me. 

“You’re not making me like you,” I mutter. Kollan stands up. 

“Your Majesty, He’s being unreasonable right now. Perhaps you and I can negotiate, and come to an agreement without him being childish?” Kollan asks. “He’s hung up on the past.” Angel sits up, tilting her head slightly. 

“And you are?” She asks. 

“Kollan Blanchard,” He answers, bowing. Angel smirks, looking him up and down, then gets up. She stares at Kollan with wide eyes as he kisses her hand, bowing again. Flint and I share eye contact, and my cousin folds his arms, smirking as Kollan and Angel leave, followed by some guards.

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