I work with the Achroites.

Hunter’s lie. The lie that saved us. The words that saved us. The words that would always echo in the crevasses of my mind. But I did not cry. Did not even want to. Not because I didn’t care for Hunter. I did. But because he died saving someone else. What better way to return to the Lord?

We skulked our way past the crowds and stepped out of St. Cruithnechán. Even flooded in sweat, Almyra looked like a princess, who could save you, or kill you. But I just tapped my smartwatch. I did not have time to ponder about such things. And someone had called.

“Teacher,” Tim said.

“Now I’m the one who’s going to kill you for not answering!”

Usually he’d chuckle, but I guessed the news were already broadcasting the Harmonist protests still raging. I just hoped the agitators had the common sense to surrender in peace. “Someone contacted me with information about Samuel,” he said. “She said she spotted someone like Samuel with a Harmonist in the Palmas District.” A minute tract carved from a neighborhood in Pearfanæg up north.

“Order—”

But before Tim could tap his watch, someone called me.

“That lapse in judgment from one of my district’s denizens shall be swiftly punished, as I see you’re still with the enemy,” the bridger’s hologram said. “Well, no surprise there, given that you’re prone to treachery and betrayal.” I instantly recognized her. Delilah Lemmingson. President of the National Bridger Association. About ten years older than me, long cerise hair that flowed into her lower back, and a sly intellect that helped her become the first woman to achieve Class A rank, but ever since the Non-Enhanced Defense Act, sheer wrath drowned her face whenever she saw me.

“Almyra’s not the … I don’t have time for this,” I said. “Please, seal off your district. That’s the only way we’ll find Samuel.”

“I lost trust in you when you signed that deal with Zielkkenhom,” she said, her voice muffled. “And then you received that award.” She sneered. “The worst part was that I really thought you were going to stand up to Zielkkenhom. I really thought you were going to change things. And I supposed you did.” She glared at me. “But for the worse.”

Delilah was the leader of the Palmas Autonomous City. The bridger known as The Lady of Omniscience since she carried out her little spy operation in her district after the Non-Enhanced Defense Act passed. Tracked all communications, online, and even in the real world. Nothing went past her. Most bridgers who belonged to the association did, to check those who lived within their domains didn’t have contact with me, but she was the first one. And if you did manage to sneak something past Delilah, then you’d better pray.

“I’m not going to take that stupid award,” I said. “I didn’t—”

“It’s not about the award, Feather Lad,” she said. “It’s about what it represents. It’s about what your damn watered-down law represents. You chose them over us.”

Almyra gasped. She and I both knew what Feather Lad meant. But I would not go back to those memories. I just shook my head when Almyra turned to me. And she knew what I was thinking.

“What them? What us? We’re all humans,” I said.

“That Bernhart chick really made a number on you, huh?”

“Why are you forgetting about God?” I said. “I thought you were smart, smarter than me. Never naïve. But now you’re being naïve, and acting dumb. Don’t let the Harmonists into your brain.”

“I don’t need the Harmonists to tell me what to think,” Delilah said. “I came to that decision by myself.”

“So you forgot about Jesus on your own,” I said. “That just makes it worse.” I guessed I had thought the Naturals were steadfast, bridgers above all, who did not live in inhumane conditions, but they just stood a bridge away from drinking Eugenex. And calling it quits for good.

“I know you just want Ashley’s rebound—”

“Ashley’s rebound?” Flame blades sliced my veins. “She’s only been dead for a month!”

“I shall remodel your district, Miss,” Almyra said. “On my money. How much do you want? A hundred million new dollars? Five hundred? A billion? You tell me, and I shall pay. But first, seal the district, so Samuel may not escape.”

“Would your dad—”

“Be in silence, Cael.”

“I’ll think about it, Hæft.”

The call shut off. And only Tim’s hologram remained.

“Take care of my family, Tim,” I said. “Put our district on lockdown as well. Don’t let anyone in. Let the Impures protest if they want, but keep them away from my house.”

“I will, Teacher,” he said. “But hurry. The protest is dying out, but the Harmonists are broadcasting the deaths of the violent agitators as martyrs for freedom. So I don’t know how long I can keep the protests at bay.”

The gravels pummeled every neuron in my brain, every cell in my bloodstream, but my family would survive. The country would survive. I just needed to exonerate Samuel. And reform the Non-Enhanced Defense Act with Almyra’s help.

I shut off the call. And raced for Palmas. As if racing for the crown that doesn’t rot. To find Samuel and Mildred. This time. For real. We would find them.

We would save our country.

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