Rhian, Delphia

On the day of the fire, the defects were out preparing for the Councilwoman’s speech the next day, so the lair was quiet. It wasn’t often they got to stretch their legs topside, but with the Isle of Inspiration so packed full of people, it would be easy for them to get lost in the crowd. It was important for Riz to keep up appearances and learn everything he could about what more they had planned, so he was off helping Green Jacket with whatever he was up to.

Little did they know, while they were enjoying their false freedom, we were cooking up ideas of our own.

Firearms, barrels of fire-powder, everything they might need to put together more firearms and more barrels of fire-powder. Everything had to go, but we couldn’t empty the place out straightaway. If the defects got back to find us and all their things gone, they’d know we’d betrayed them and we needed everybody acting normal.

The plans we were making were for the next morning.

Vinny helped us rent a wagon, and we located an abandoned warehouse on the slummy side of town to use for storage. Taking all their things wouldn’t stop them from trying to blow up the Councilwoman and all those unsuspecting people. We were too late for that. But it would stop them doing anything else crazy if what we had planned for them went to shite.

While we snooped around the lair, took stock, and worked out the best way to get everything out as quickly as possible, Vinny kept watch at the front door. He might have lost control over the defects, but we trusted his ability to keep them out or stall as long as possible. As for the allied Barren who owned the house? See page thirty-six in my sketchbook. He might have started out wanting to help, but he died corrupt like the rest.

Just before noon, Gus and I used the key to open the secret passage in the lair. The exit was right beside the Liaison’s office, so we listened carefully, making sure nobody was kicking around before stepping out the bookcase. After that, it was about as interesting as picking the lock. Not exactly groundbreaking, but there you have it. The Liaison was supposed to be out and about with the Councilwoman that day, so we weren’t too worried about being caught. Turns out, we should have been.

But never mind. For all the Strachan luck, it worked out.

The thing about people like Strauss, they were always on time. So, seeing as the closet was big and Strachan are small, Gus and I took our places and waited. No sense getting into what happened next on account of Strauss nailed it. I'll pick up right after we kissed, and I shut the cupboard in his face, and then he left.

“So, that was enlightening,” Gus said, stepping out of the closet. “It explains why you wanted to stay at the church. That was going to bother me for the rest of my life.”

“Right,” I said. “It’s over, mate. We don’t need to talk about it.”

Grinning like an idiot, Gus opened the window in case we needed a quick escape, and made his way over to the Liaison’s desk. If you hadn’t sorted it out, we were there to search for evidence of his crooked-bastardness. “Well, I think you make the perfect couple—like chocolate and pickles. It makes no sense until you taste it.”

“Let me guess, I’m the pickle.”

“Don’t be silly.” Gus said. “Strauss is the pickle. Do we need to have the talk?”

I rolled my eyes.

Gus rifled through the desk for a good five minutes while I listened at the door for footsteps.

“I wonder what your kids would look like,” he asked.

“Because that’s a reasonable thing to wonder,” I said. “And why are you still thinking about it? It’s weird.”

“It’s the little things in life, Rhian,” Gus said. Stealing my lines—how dare he.

A few more minutes passed, searching through drawers until Gus announced, “I found something.”

“What?” I asked.

“The ledger.” Gus said. “We know the Liaison’s been stealing from the people to fund the underground, so in theory, the numbers won’t add up.”

“Makes sense. Trouble is, he’s bound to notice it’s gone sooner than later, not to mention the missing prisoners. It’ll all point to Strauss, and he still has to come back to get his release papers.”

Stepping over to the Liaison’s desk, Gus stuffed Strauss’s apology letter in his pocket and picked up the writing doohickey. “When does he leave?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

After squiggling the Liaison’s signature and whatnot, Gus folded the release papers, applied the seal, and while we waited for the wax to dry, he said, “What was the other problem again?”

“The prisoners.”

“Right, right.” Gus nodded slowly. “That will look suspicious. We should have thought of that.”

Look, we weren’t used to having a third person to consider in our schemes.

“Wait,” I whispered. “Someone’s coming.”

I listened for clues.

You can tell a lot by the way a person opens doors and knocks, but also about the way they walk. I recognized Strauss’s uncertain shuffle, and then another set of steps. They stopped at the dead-end. At that moment, I realized Strauss never asked how to open the secret passage, and then I realized I wouldn’t have known how to answer the question, anyhow.

“Everything all set?” said a random man, further in the distance.

“They won’t see it coming,” said another man. I knew that voice straightaway. Blue Jacket. “The underground is ready to do what’s necessary.”

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The first man laughed. They were getting closer. “Now I have to deal with the dead Petitioner in my office, and you can do whatever you want with Deville.”

“Not everything is poisoned,” he said. “It’s statistically unreasonable,” he said. Also, Deville—why did I recognize that name?

Keys jingled.

“Can I see him?” Blue Jacket asked.

“As soon as I remember which key it is.”

“Not Deville,” Blue Jacket said. “The dead mutt in your office.”

The men started laughing, and then…

…a roaring whoosh, and then another, and another, followed by the screaming.

I reached for the door handle. But before I could open it, Gus dived across the room. He snagged me around the waist, dragged me to the window, and tossed me through.

Following behind, he grabbed my hand as we ran across the street. Fast like kitty-cats. Bang, bang on the door. “VD—it’s not what it sounds like,” and the door swung wide open. We rushed for the hatch, leaped into the basement, and darted for the secret door. After unlocking it, we dashed down the corridor. On the other side of the secret passage, books hit the floor. One by one. Strauss was panicking.

Why doesn’t he just turn into the office?

I pulled the lever, and the secret door opened. Strauss and a man I didn’t recognize came barreling through.

There was only enough time to sneak a peek at what was happening before closing the door.

On the other side, the estate was on fire, and two men had just about finished burning to death.

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Strauss was basically catatonic by the time we reached the lair. The Animals, not entirely sure what the hell was happening, gathered around us. Bear, being an empath and all, was especially concerned for Strauss. Frankly, so was I, but we were running out of time. It wouldn’t be long before the fire spread like fire does, and it'd become obvious even to those outside the estate. It would only be a matter of time before the defects rushed back home looking for answers. We didn’t want to be there when they did.

While the rest of us worked out where to go next, Bear tended to our accidental arsonist, laying his massive hands on Strauss’s sad, saggy shoulders. I didn’t know all that much about Endican heart-tricks, but I knew enough about how empathy worked to know it was a lot like telepathy. Whatever Bear did was enough to soothe Strauss back to reality—enough to get his feet moving when he had to, anyhow.

Even though we were too late to rescue the Amali guards, freeing the Barren was an equal win. The man was eager to get home to his family, and seeing as we needed somewhere to be, Guardsman Deville invited us all back to his place. It wasn’t far.

Misses Deville was beside herself with joy seeing her husband come back in one piece, but when she noticed the panicked looks on our faces, she ushered us inside—all eight of us. Good thing they had a fancy house. She offered us cold drinks, toilets and bathtubs, and ordered the servants to whip something up for everyone to eat. While the Animals and Vinny were busy getting cleaned up, Strauss, Gus and I joined the Devilles in the sitting room.

After hugging their dad, Max squeezed in between me and Gus, and Dominique hopped on my lap.

“I knew you could help.” She looked at her brother, sternly and the way only a sister can. “Max didn’t think so. He said you’d be too busy, but I just knew it. Thank you for bringing our father back home.”

Gus gestured to Strauss. “It was all him.”

Misses Deville regarded Strauss with warm, teary eyes. She leaned into her husband as he pulled her close. “We truly cannot thank you enough. If you ever need anything, anything at all, we are forever indebted.”

He was still looking lost, so I encouraged Strauss with a smile.

“Seeing your family reunited and looking so happy is thanks enough,” he eventually said.

Misses Deville addressed us all next. “You must be eager for the unveiling tomorrow.”

Awkward.

“Aye,” I said. “About that. If you could all just not go, that’d be great.”

Misses Deville turned to her husband. He nodded.

“Say, Strauss,” I said. “Pass me that thing in your pocket.”

Strauss raised an eyebrow and reached into his pants pocket. He handed me a leather pouch.

After pulling open the drawstring, I reached inside and plucked out the Tear.

Oohs and ahhs all around.

Well—all except from Gus who smiled, and Strauss who frowned when he realized he’d been carrying it around all afternoon.

It was just a bloody gem, but to the Devilles, it meant something. I didn’t understand, but I wasn’t above respecting things I didn’t understand. I passed the Tear to Dominique first, and I couldn’t help feeling warm and fuzzy while it made its way around the room.

For all the chaos it’s caused, at least one nice family would get the chance to see it.

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While Gus took a bath, Strauss and I sat in silence on the bed in one of the spare bedrooms. Strauss had to get back to the church before long, and his mood wasn’t doing him any favours.

“It was an accident,” I said. “There’s no sense beating yourself up over it. Asides, those men were terrorists, one of them was trying to kill you, and the other thought the Assembly should have drowned you as a baby. The world needs more of you and fewer of them. What would the alternative have been?”

“I’ll concede to that—they weren’t good men, and who knows how many more atrocities they’d have committed? But how many innocents have been injured or killed while trying to save them? Or while trying to put the fires out? And was it really an accident? I could have broken down the door to the Liaison’s office. We could have escaped out the window. I could have tried triggering the secret passage much sooner. Instead, even if only trying to buy us some time, I attempted something I should have known I’d fail at.”

“If nobody attempted anything they might fail at, where would we be? Gus would definitely not be having a nice hot bath in a tub with running water. We’d all still be shitting outdoors roasting rats on an open fire.”

Strauss puckered the corners of his lips and side-eyed me.

“All right, no more talking about fire, but I’ve made my point. You tried, you failed, big deal. It’s not like I’m saying you shouldn’t feel bad about the consequences. I’m saying consequences are a regular part of life and if you can’t get used to dealing with them head-on, you’ll spend the rest of your life too scared, too guilty, and too fucked up to live. You might as well just hang yourself. Do you want to hang yourself, Strauss?”

“Well, no—”

“Right-e-o,” I said. “Anyhow, I’m the one who ought to be feeling like miserable pile of misery. It’s my fault any of that happened. Do you think I ought to be feeling like a miserable pile of misery, Strauss?”

“No, of course not. It’s not your fault, Sinclair. I wanted to help.”

“Uh huh, and I should have known you’d accidentally set a bunch of people on fire.” I shrugged. “We’re even.”

The corner of Strauss’s lips twitched. It was almost a smile, and it was as good as it was going to get. “I thought you said no more fire talk?”

“Look, it’s tricky talking about fire without talking about fire.”

Strauss nodded a few times slowly. “You know, once the Assembly finds out…”

“Never mind that,” I said. “Leave the Assembly to me, and just remember: it was all my fault.”