A revolt. Not a bad idea actually.

"Look!" I say, sliding away from Emmet's arm and climbing on top of a glass makeup counter. "The hankie festival is over. The last thing Margo would want is to see us sitting around moping." Sasha nods. "We have to keep moving; we have to stay ready. The New Order is just getting stronger."

Jamilla, our "team mother" shaman, dries the tears on her cheeks. Even Feffer shows a little more of the steely glint she usually has in her eyes.

"The One Who Is The One wants to crush our spirit!" I yell. "Would Margo have let her spirit be crushed?"

"No!" Sasha yells back. "Absolutely not."

"The One Who Is The One wants us to stop, to turn ourselves in, to quit!" I shout. "Did Margo ever stop resisting?"

"No!" a group of us says in unison.

"The One Who Is The One doesn't want us to execute our next mission. And the one after that. Would Margo have told us to execute our next mission?"

"Yes!" Almost the whole room's on board now.

Then Emmet-who's looking maybe even cuter than usual-stands up with his fist in the air. The volume in the room grows, and I'm definitely feeling giddy. Maybe there really is something to this leadership stuff.

But then something happens to let all the wind out of my sails.

The person I detest the most in the whole world has just entered the room.

Well, maybe not quite the most. But darn close.

Chapter 14

Wisty

Byron traitor suck-up P. Weasel Swain skulks into the room, bobbing his head like an animal trying to pick up a scent, and then makes a beeline for me. Byron was a know-it-all snob in high school and then a New Order puppet who was complicit in our capture-and who, by the way, I actually turned into a weasel once. He has supposedly left the N.O., but that doesn't mean I have to like him.