Thank God my family had listened to me and left. Almyra had not. I had not. And the debris came. But not at me, at her. “You’re a bunch of cowards who’ve forgotten about God!” So easily.

“You defend her?” a Natural said, his eyes, as endless glinting flames, though not of justice.

“At the expense of us? You defend Marie Antoinette?” an Impure growled. His butcher knife as a tungsten needle, their pointless hunger satisfied with our carving, their actual hunger, unnoticed with our deaths.

“It’s equal to me what you think,” I said. “But I won’t let you or anyone butcher someone in cold blood, not even if she were Empress Dowager Cixi.” She kind of was, though. But just a tad.

“Join us,” Terrance shouted. “All of you shall become Achroites if you do.”

“We gave you a last chance, bridger,” a Natural clamored. “And you wasted it. You lost it.”

“I did not,” I said. “You were the ones who lost. So get back on track before it is too late for you.”

I thought the Natural had listened. But he just hurled his debris piece at my thorax. I sidestepped and pushed Almyra aside, away from the rocks. But I glanced at her face. Stern. Not a hint of fear. Unlike me. I feared, though not because of the debris. But because of the gravels of the mind, which blasted my head more than any debris could ever do. By saving Almyra, had I led them to sin? Should I have left her alone? I knew the answer to that question. I thought.

There must have been something poetic about escaping an angry mob trying to lapidate you. But then something clouted me. Not debris, but I wished it had been. Another text. From Mildred. I did not want to answer it, but perhaps it was a clue. After everything, something good had to come of it. I read the text. And it did not.

Sucker.

I had gambled everything on a lead, on a single clue, and lost it all. But at least my family was safe back in the district, even if it had cost me the support of some Impures and a few Naturals. Almyra contacted her security forces’ head operative and ordered him to let the crowd disperse on its own. The last thing we needed was a propaganda boost for the Harmonists if Bernhart’s forces massacred the enraged pack.

An ice blade lacerated my nerves. I called Tim but he didn’t answer, so I just texted him. But he was smart. He knew what to do. I hoped. We sprinted our way through the narrow waste rivers of St. Cruithnechán, praying it wasn’t too late to head to my district. My family had to be safe. But then some Harmonists cut our path and aimed at us, but some Ánwealdesbord soldiers blasted their heads before they could even fire. Guessed to protect Almyra more than me, even though they were not under Bernhart’s direct command, but still. No change in expression in Almyra’s eyes. Spears of ice lacerated her face. And clouts of guilt pummeled me that I felt nothing for those Harmonists deaths. But it had been in defense. They had brought it upon themselves for seeking violence. For attempting to murder Almyra and I. The gravels pounded me. Sounded more callous than usual, though not as much as an Achroite. I had to watch that.

I told the Esne soldiers to just seize the agitators and not kill them, but before they could even take a step forward, one of the soldiers placed his hand on his forehead and sat. A blood pressure drop? He removed the hooded portion from his uniform to pass a healer by his face, but a bullet shot right through his skull. His blood partially spilled, not crystallized as fast as an Achroite’s. Bastard Harmonists. Wanted to kill them myself. That soldier wasn’t a threat at that moment. Only way to kill an Enhanced. Eugenex could make an Enhanced brain regenerate organs, but it could not make the brain regenerate itself.

The ice in Almyra’s face thawed. “Now should I grant the order to kill?”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

I knew how she felt. I cared about the Esneas too. But a massacre out of vengeance was not the right way. That’d have only led to an outright war. What I was trying to avoid. So I said, “Ask them to surrender peacefully and—”

“Only kill if the horde insists on violence, even if they are Naturals,” she said. “You are correct. I let my wrath overcome proper reasoning.”

The words pounded my brain. Even if they’re Naturals. I was not betraying them. I was not.

The soldiers shot the Harmonists that had killed their comrade and carried the fallen soldier to the headquarters. Concern engulfed the soldiers’ faces. Few times I had seen them concerned. I wanted to help them, but we had no time. And I still hadn’t heard from my family. We dashed to the exit, but heard footsteps, so we darted into an alley, thinking on how to escape. I didn’t want to make my family a target. I thought fear would slither through my veins. Or anxiety. But exasperation pricked my nerves. That I would let Almyra down. That I’d let Samuel and Mildred down. That I’d let my family down. Even Almyra had hunched a tad. Guessed more concerned about Mildred than about her own life.

But then I spotted someone. Hunter. Medium build. Short brown hair with spikes. I had helped his family a few times, when they could not afford food. He signaled us to head into his tenement, vacant because of the protest. The door shut. And the crowd split to find me. They would not. “Thanks, Hunter,” I said. “I—”

“I think you did the right thing, Cael,” Hunter said. “But right now you’re wanted.”

“I know you’re risking your life to help us, so thanks again. I hope I can return the favor after this is over.”

Hunter hesitated. Wavered for a second, as if he himself couldn’t believe the words he was about to say. But he just stared right at us and said, “I saw Samuel earlier, talking to a Harmonist.” He paused, as if the words pained him. “I’m sorry, Cael.”

“Don’t be,” I said. “I—”

“He is guilty, Cael,” Almyra said. “I am in knowledge of your belief in his innocence, but evidence is evidence.”

“What if Julius made a fake video?”

“I highly doubt so,” Almyra said. “As much as I loathe the Lieutenant, not even he would edit a video to frame someone.”

“But he didn’t explode,” I said. “So maybe he only set the tear gas.”

“Do you listen to yourself?” she said. “Why would anyone be in need of releasing a tear gas canister or a smoke bomb, if not to commit a crime?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I just … I … I can’t let an innocent person be framed, go to jail for something he didn’t do.”

“He’s not innocent,” Almyra declared.

“I think you should leave it at that, Cael,” Hunter said. “And let the authorities find out. Your district could be in trouble if you prove them wrong.”

“What about you, Almyra?” I said. “You asked me to help you because you thought Mildred was alive. Or do you believe she’s dead just because Julius said so? Just because a video says she died?” I prayed and prayed, did everything not to think on the gravels of the mind. Not to think on my family’s risk. Not to think on anything. But on Almyra. On her answer. On some level, I wanted her to convince me I was doing the right thing. It was stupid. I knew. But I didn’t want to remember the wails, let them carve my mind, until I no longer had one. We were framed in Wexford. And it did not end well. Please say that she’s alive.

Each second felt like an eternity. And with each second, gravity blasted my chest, louder, and stronger. Until I felt it haul my soul down.

“I … I …”

Please Almyra.

“I am in thought of her being alive,” she said. “Despite the footage.”

That lightened the gravity that compressed my chest. Because someone believed me. Because I was doing the right thing.

“If you decide to follow Samuel,” Hunter said. “Do it at your own risk, Cael, but Julius won’t take it lightly if you prove his mistake.”

“I don’t care what he thinks,” I said. “We’re already enemies anyway.”

“Samuel went north,” Hunter said. “That’s the last thing I know about him.”

My family jolted my mind. Would they be safe? I had to trust Tim. He was mature enough to handle the situation. But if Samuel went to prison for something he didn’t do, the wails would have barreled at me again. And I could not have that. But if my family perished because I was looking for him, then the gravels would have buried me again. And I could not have that either. I glanced at Almyra. Her feet pointed north.

“You can go to your—”

I smiled at her. And despite my mind blasting into my eardrums that I had chosen wrong, despite my heart hauling me in the opposite direction, I declared, “Let’s go find Mildred and Samuel.”

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