I knew what I had told the Harmonist, but I had seen what they were capable of, I had seen how vicious the Achroites could be. Samuel had lived it, even. Should I have just infected them? But then, the Harmonists would have risen to power, and they were just the same as the Achroites. Unless I finished them, before they could take over the government. But then that’d mean the government would have been on my hands. And I could lead a district, but a whole country? Well, then again, I had seen politicians. And it did not take much to be one.

I thought about my family. Were they safe? Tim had not answered. I had seen he read my text. But he did not answer. So they wouldn’t track him, I supposed. They were safe. I prayed for their safety. They had to be. I hoped. The gravels burst in my mind—the Enhanceds getting infected, dying, because of me. And nothing I did could help me dissipate them. I just had to live through them, until they vanished on their own. Something that took a while to happen. A week most of the times. But sometimes, two weeks, and even a month at times. But I had read about saints who lived all their lives with the gravels. They had the fortitude to endure that. I did not.

Julius looked imposing, though not as much as when he gave the speech. I guessed the video and modulators did make a difference.

He sneered at me. “Liked the speech I gave, guttersnipe? Told you I always win.”

“Depends,” I said. “Liked how I saved Almyra more than once in a single day, and you did nothing for her in years?”

Julius shut his mouth.

Almyra chuckled. “Listen, Lieutenant,” she stated. “I am in want of written assurance that bridger Samuel Gieves shall be returned his district immediately. And exonerated of all charges against him. He did not set up the bomb. The Harmonists did.”

Joy engulfed me. I smiled even. She really did care. I had not asked her to do that. And for a second there, I did not think she would have. But she was like Aisha. She could galvanize others into action. With Aisha’s support, with Almyra’s support, and that of a few more Fenglas, a new Cael’s Law would become a reality. And we’d have change through peace.

“And you admitting you made a mistake,” she said. “On national news.”

“After everything we have been through, Almie—”

“The clock ticks, Lieutenant,” Almyra said. “And I am certain you shall offer me a grand gramercy for our information.”

“Why do I not just beat it out of the guttersnipe?”

“Kill me if you want,” I said. Standing as tall as I could. “I won’t tell you anything.”

“And if I kill your family, guttersnipe?”

An ice blade did not sleet through my nerves. Because again, I had practiced for that statement. “My sister’s a thirteen year-old girl on a wheelchair, blind, and deaf,” I said. “Do you really want to go there? And inspire a revolution that will definitely topple you and Zielkkenhom.” I sneered. “I thought you were supposed to be the smartest person alive, Lt. Nabritt.” He was. Or at least his IQ said he was. I did not buy it.

“And I shall guarantee making a symbol out of her,” Almyra said. “Shall bribe the best Tussenvolken propagandists to make her a martyr.”

“And should I kill only your parents?”

“You’d be the guy who orphaned a blind, deaf, thirteen year-old girl in a wheelchair,” I said. “That is not good PR.” I leaned toward him. Just in front of the cell bars. “Face it, Julius, we have the upper hand, not you.”

Julius stretched his arm and cannoned a windblast at me. I even struck the wall, raw Eugenex wound pounding my pain receptors, but I would not let him hear me bowl.

“We surpassed you, Lieutenant,” Almyra said. “Acquiesce to our demands or face the consequences.”

Julius’ eyes seemed as glinting fires that would not kill us, because Almyra rested next to me. And would not have endured seeing her face marred by anguish at my demise. He just grunted and drew out a notepad. And signed. “Here you go, now tell me.”

“Are you in thought of our stupidity?” she said. “Do what we ordered you to do first and then return.”

He did, as a puppy. Almyra sneered.

“I take it you and he did not end in the nicest of terms, huh?”

“I am not vindictive, Cael,” she said. “But the Lieutenant deserves it. That and more. For what he has done. For what he did to me.” Her voice began to falter. And I did not press further. Did not want to pester her.

But just as Julius was getting ready to deliver his address, someone hurled a grenade at the soldiers guarding the apartment we were in. And injected Julius with what must have been a paralyzer, a synthesized form of snake poison that paralyzed you for one to five minutes, depending on the concentration, as he did not move. The Naturals’ response to the Eugenex-derived telekinetic immobilization all Enhanceds shared, except for the Impures. So we stood a chance.

We all sprinted downstairs, past Julius statue body, and though I thought Almyra would glint hope, her eyes blazed wrath instead. Because she had saved Julius. If she had not asked him to deliver the address, then he’d have been with the other guards. But she only did it to save the Naturals. So then, had the Naturals saved Julius? Had I just saved my enemy?

I guessed I had, but that did not sever my soul. Because I did not expect her to fight with me, we had only known each other for seven hours, and it would have coiled my heart if something had happened to her because of me. But I did expect Samuel to help me. I thought he would have stayed and fought alongside me, but he did not. He did not attack me, but he did not attack the assailant either. He just stood still for three seconds, and then darted off into Beorgæg . But I couldn’t blame him. His wife had just died. I just prayed he did not let vengeance overwhelm him.

But then I heard something click. So I sidestepped. A bullet grazed my arm. The assailant who had tossed the bomb.

“Ready to die, bridger?”

I immediately recognized him. “Run fast now, Almyra,” I shot. “Escape.”

The remaining Harmonist Limb who had not been at the rally. Probably plotting how to kill Aisha and me. Thank God he didn’t care about Almyra and let her escape. She hesitated for a second, but I signaled her to sprint away. Even let her keep my zielkithe pocketknife for protection.

Nathaniel Norcross.

A head taller than me and in his early twenties, though the eternal ire that encircled his blue eyes made him seem much older than he was. At first glance you’d think him a thug. A Mohawk dyed cobalt jutted from his head. Tattoos shrouded his body, as if they were his second skin. European dragons in vermillion and moss. A saber at his side, ripped jeans and a tucked-out short sleeveless shirt with a leather jacket on it made his unnatural uniform, so you’d always distinguish him in a crowd, even more easily than Terrance and Marina. Guessed that was the point. That his victims always knew who killed them. That Aisha and I knew who’d be our murderer.

Worst part, though, wasn’t so much his wrath, but that he used to treat Naturals with dignity. He used to believe in the same ideals as Aisha. Until his family lost their wealth. Old money. Thick Boston Brahmin accent, even though he tried to hide it at times. Came here with the Mayflower. Lost everything to Aisha’s family’s Lexington Bank and Trust. Which ripped my soul, because Aisha was the sweetest girl, even though she was an Achroite. But the Trust’s Board of Directors and her parents said business was business. To be the best, you had to eliminate the competition.

And they did.

But Nathaniel’s family remained strong, until the day that zapped the hope right out of his face, their faces—the day they could no longer afford Achroite Eugenex, and ceased to be Achroites. They sold their mansions, jets, and yachts just to pretend they still had money. But they were buying Fengel Eugenex. Low grade. Could no longer afford waterfront Back Bay in Boston. And moved to Fenland. To an Esne neighborhood.

And they scraped by. Until they could not even afford Esne Eugenex. And had to go Impure. The subsidized one. And move to a Zielkkenhomville in Pearfanæg. To the nicer Impure area—they did not win the lottery of the bridger district they had applied to—but still, the social shame they must have had.

But those living there treated them well, pretended they did not know what had happened to them. Acted as if they had lived there all their lives. But in Nathaniel’s mind, he was not one of them. He was an Achroite. And he would halt at nothing to recover that. For him. For his family.

Sometimes I felt sorry for him. He must have really believed in the Harmonists’ ideals, of granting everyone what was once his, but when I remembered what he did at the water plant, what happened to my brother because of him, my rage grew, and any scíollan of compassion I had for him vanished, as a grain against the scorching ash of the Rim. But then God jolted me. For I knew He wanted compassion for everyone.

Though not for sin.

Nathaniel fired at me but I dodged his bullets and charged at him. Wrenched the gun from his grasp. And his eyes glinted anger. Not just regular anger, though. But almost to the point of obsession. Not as if I had done something against him, but against his family. But I had not. Guessed I was just guilty by association with Aisha. I went through my mind and I had not done a thing against them. Only against the Harmonists.

I held the gun in my hand, and for a second there I thought of shooting him, because he and Belisario had concocted the water plant bomb that snatched my brother’s eternal life, but my guardian angel would have blasted my soul with a photon even more powerful than the gravels. And the gravels would have lapidated me forever.

I did not kill him. Just emptied the barrel. “Why do you want to kill me? Is it just because I oppose the Harmonists? Or because of Aisha?”

Nathaniel did not answer. And the wrath his eyes glinted vanished. Somewhat. And he just sneered. And then I saw why. He drew out the saber at his side and thrust forward against my chest, but I blocked it and clouted his thorax. But I could not stop his heart. Nathaniel did not even flinch. He just chuckled and drew out a small dagger from his pocket and aimed at my throat. Insane. Him. Chuckling at the thought of killing someone. Though a burst of sadness blasted me. That he thought like that. But I would not let him kill me. I could not dodge his dagger. And had to block it with my arm.

Big mistake.

I did not holler, I did not cry as he stabbed my arm and dragged the dagger to my wrist. Not because I did not want to, but because the tears would have clouded my vision. The scream would have wasted attoseconds I needed to plan my next move. I would not lose.

I kneed his stomach and instead of trying to wrestle the dagger from his hand, I just forced his thumb backwards as if I wanted to sever it from his hand. I did not succeed. But I did hear a crackling sound. Nathaniel flinched, yelped even, and dropped the dagger. And I spared my wrist. Saved my life. Which the gravels pummeled. But I just dispelled them. I had not gone too far. I had not killed him. He had attacked me. I had the right to defend myself.

I did. But if he kept attacking me, would I have—

I caught sight of him about to snatch his dagger back, but I seized it first. Shock. Anger shrouded his face. That I had been faster than him. But he still had his saber. He could not fool me. Nathaniel sneered and aimed his saber at my throat but I dodged it and aimed for his stomach, but his saber blocked the dagger.

“You are stronger than I thought, bridger,” he said. “But I will finish you anyway.”

“Then you’ll just take me to Heaven faster,” I said. “So thanks for your help, Brahmin.” I chuckled.

He did not. And for a second there, he stood still. Put his saber down. I did not think he had changed, but had my taunt worked?

“Should you believe you shall find yourself in eternal rest,” Nathaniel said. “There is nothing I can do for your delusions. I shall kill you, though it shall sadden me not being able to see your face once you wake up in fire and brimstone. Granted who your allies are.”

“So it is about Aisha,” I said. “She’s a much better person than you shall ever be, Nathaniel, regardless of what you think.”

“Justice shall be served,” he said. “Because those who associate with criminals and oppressors of the poor and weak cannot be just. The system is not just. The system must be obliterated, bridger, not reformed.”

Nathaniel charged at me, saber first, but I stabbed his hand. He flinched. Dropped his saber. Tried to kick me but he stumbled and crashed into the floor. His eyes turned to seas that not even all the suns could evaporate, but his fake tears would not fool me.

I snatched his saber and aimed for his chest. “Hand yourself to the authorities now or I’ll—”

“I surrender, bridger,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice from sounding too broken. “You win.”

But before I could even react, an explosion resonated in the area. Coming from where the Knights of Malta’s headquarters stood. And I looked. An instant. A reflex. A reflex that would cost me my life.

Nathaniel uppercut my throat. I stumbled. And in four seconds, I was gone. He elbowed my chest, fisted my nose, clutched the back of my neck and hauled me toward him. I could not do a thing. He kneed my ribcage and hurled me into the street. Snatched the saber and dagger.

I had not been strong enough. And I would pay the price. But the thought of killing him when I had a chance, I had never killed someone before. Ice spikes froze my nerves when I thought of killing a person. Even if it had been a Harmonist Limb, I guessed. I always thought that if I were in front of a Limb, I would have been able to kill him, but I could not. Was that cowardice and weakness? Or was it the right thing to do? I thought it had been the right thing, but now I wasn’t so sure. I guessed it was pointless to mull about that right before I died. But it still coiled my nerves. That I would have to kill someone at some point, if I kept down this path, if I survived. I prayed it did not come to that, though. But the only way to not kill someone was dying. Or a miracle.

Nathaniel aimed his saber at my chest. “Ready to—”

Nathaniel dodged some bullets at his chest, but one struck his arm. And he plummeted. But before I could even figure out what had happened, some Harmonists swarmed the street and saved Nathaniel. And I thought they’d kill me, but they did not. Not because they did not try, but because the Knights of Malta trailed them. Fired at them.

They had saved me back in Wexford. And they had saved me again. That’s why I trusted them. That’s why I truly believed in what the Knights did. I had to become stronger, though. So I would not lose to Nathaniel. To the Harmonists.

“Are you alright, Cael?” a young woman about my age asked me. A Knight I guessed, because she seemed familiar and was with the group that fired at Nathaniel. With sturdy arms, though not too heavily striated. Marguerite flowers veiled her uniform, and wreathed her long apricot hair with streaks of sunglow that streamed up to her mid back. Her soft face made her seem too gentle for a warrior, but she was strong, as Aisha. Her gentle verdigris eyes never left my sight, despite the wounds that scarred her body. Despite the pain that must have drowned her veins. Scorches on her arms. So that even air must have speared her. Blood on her face. So that even her tears would not have washed her. But she did not cry. And her eyes were not what I expected. They did not glint wrath, or sadness, but hope and kindness, as if I were her brother, and she wanted to take care of me. As if she wanted to treat every single victim.

She helped me stand up, and wiped off some of my arm’s blood with a cloth she drew from her pocket. Scrubbed more likely, as if she washed clothes against rocks in a river, but I would not flinch in front of her, not when she had not even yelped after all we had been through. But she must have felt something, for after fifteen seconds she scrubbed no longer. And she just wafted, as a Celtic zephyr in Wexford’s shore.

The shore I would return to someday, once everything was over, once the time was right. But the more time passed, the worse it became.

She finished cleaning my wounds, smiled at me, and said, “I thought scarred men were supposed to be tough.”

“I am,” I said. “It’s just that I have mental toughness. Those burly guys you think are strong wouldn’t endure an attosecond in the Bridge.”

She laughed. “Lastenia, Lastenia Horowitz.” She stepped away from me. “If there’s nothing more you need, then I’m off to chase Nathaniel. I will not stand idle after he snatched our equipment.”

And with that, she took off.

“She’s always like that,” a soldier told me in sign language. “One of our best. Tragic what happened to her.” He paused for half a second. “Her parents died during the Warsaw Assault and she had to come here to the USN completely alone at ten to practice her faith in peace.”

It hit me the second I saw him. Dyse Thomas. A trace of black hair covered his almost bald head, a head shorter than me, and mute. Naturals could not afford the operation to fix vocal chords. And even if we could, no doctor would perform it. Doctors were all Enhanceds.

Dyse was the Natural from that fight that led Aisha and I to cross paths. Some Enhanceds were beating him. I tried to stop them, but they immobilized me, and thought I was a goner. But Aisha arrived and air blasted the bastard bullies preying on the weak into oblivion. Because she needed my services.

“I survived the head wound from back then, Cael. Let’s go to the headquarters, before Lt. Nabritt’s paralyzer wears off.” Dyse said. “But Nathaniel was all a ploy, so you wouldn’t interfere in the Harmonist assault on our Wessex headquarters.”

Those must have been the blasts.

Dyse paused for a second, as if he could not believe the words he’d say next. Or as if, he felt powerless to do something. “And their upcoming attack on the Ceremony.”

The Ceremony that would take place in my district.

The Ceremony that would take place where my family was.

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