I activated the hologram feed.

“Where have you been, Teacher Cael?” Tim said. Leered at me, as if only wrath swelled his brain, but he could not hide his concern. And the sight of relief when he saw me alive, though only lasted a second. “I have importan—”

“Where are you?” I said. “Are you still in the city?” Strong, but hoping he’d say he wasn’t. They weren’t. That they were safe. That by a miracle of God, he had escaped in time.

Tim winced. “Yes, at the Cerem … what’s with the biomask, teacher?” he said. “Is—”

“Is Ellie with you? Ma and pa? Didn’t you see my text?” Adrenaline must have shot through my veins. That shock did not petrify me. That dread did not drown me. “I’ve been trying to call you and ma and pa like a million times. Why haven’t you answered? What was so important that you had to—”

“Stopping a damn Harmonist terrorist attack, teacher,” he growled, but he still shifted his smartwatch to live feed mode, so I could see everything at the Ceremony. All the Achroites. Zielkkenhom. Fain. And a group of Esne guards and elite Body Fenglas forces subdued a man right in the center of my district.

He did not look sorry. Not even as they shattered his bones. By hand. “This is for freedom.” They broke his legs. “Because we will stand in the right side of history.” They broke his arms.

“Ic command ðe, ágna mildheartness, terrorist.”

I command you, claim mercy. That’s what the Esne guard said. In somewhat broken Anglo Saxon. Ríceságenspræc. The National Tongue. Everyone sang you praises if you could speak correctly. Though even the Achroites spoke English. Most of the time. Except when they wanted to bootlick Zielkkenhom with their language prowess. But Zielkkenhom did not seem to care at all about such foolish endeavors. At least he didn’t strike me as one to fall for bootlickers. Had to grant him that. So I never understood why he drilled Ríceságenspræc into our brains at the Rebirth School.

But I did get more Achroites to hire me because of it. And Esneas to hire me as a tutor. Which I guessed didn’t help with the whole looking like a traitor thing, but it meant I had the police on my side, on my family’s side. And on the Naturals’ one. Even if they thought me a traitor for it. Some of them. Though I feared the number would increase after the Ceremony. After the award. After the prize Zielkkenhom would grant me.

The Esne made sure the Fengel next to him listened. So he’d recommend him for the Eugenex Lottery. But the Fengel just sneered at his ignorance and snatched the terrorist’s neck. The Esne hunched. Must have though he said it right. Must have thought he said the right words, the right thing. But to those above him, he’d never be nothing more than the class forced to share streets with the wretched refuse of society, the Naturals and Impures, because most of the time, the Esneas could not police the upper quarters, much less the Tower of Rebirth.

I forced away the sadness that threatened to overwhelm me. Though not because I did not want to feel sad for the Esne, I was not callous, I hoped, but because I could not let feelings cloud my judgment. Not when I needed my brain focused on running. Sprinting to my family. Because I needed serenity to shroud me.

When I told my family about the virus.

“What light is to the eyes, what air is to the lungs, what love is to the heart, liberty is to the soul of man!” the terrorist screamed, so the entire nation would hear.

They broke his chest.

“This is for the Knights!”

The Fengel crushed his neck. Tossed the corpse aside. No one seemed concerned in the slightest. As if everyone had seen someone die such a gruesome death in front of them. Naturals. Enhanceds. Eveyone.

What a sad fate. For us all. Desensitization.

But then it clouted me. The silence that exploded in the Ceremony. That he belonged to the Knights. Not to the Harmonists. But to the Knights. The Knights of Malta. He had to be lying. To tarnish their reputation. As Eudora did in Ireland. He had to. They had to be … they wouldn’t … the Knights would not … I felt how my heart raced, sprinted, as if it would rip my chest. Breath escaped my lungs. My throat. “This is a lie. This is a lie! This is a lie!” I yelled, hoping someone would listen. Hoping someone would correct me. Hoping someone had heard me. And said, “You’re right. It’s a lie. We wouldn’t do that. We believe in the sanctity of life. We don’t take lives unless it’s absolutely necessary. Unless it’s the last option. The last resort. Until all options have been exhausted.” But no one spoke. No one said a thing. I was in the desert. I was the sole voice in the desert. And no one had come to join me. Not even Dyse.

But it wasn’t them. The Knights must have all left. Dyse as well. That’s why no one heard me. That’s why no one answered me. Right? I sprinted through the charred remains. My heart about to burst. The sweat stinging my eyes. Everything turning into a blurred haze. And I was about to throw up.

“It’s a lie, right Teacher?” Tim said. Could not hide the trepidation in his voice. “He’s lying. He has to be.”

“I am certain of that statement’s falseness, Tim.”

“Ms. Bernhart?” he said.

There she was. Almyra. At the Ceremony. As if the whole incident with Samuel and the Harmonists hadn’t occurred. But before I could even utter a sound, the Body Fengel that had killed the alleged Knight shot at Tim’s smartwatch. Must have noticed its live feed activated. It was illegal to record without permission.

And I could not see anything else.

But it clouted me.

Almyra was smart. She knew about the virus. She knew I was probably infected. She must have known she was probably infected as well. And yet, she decided to head to the Ceremony anyway.

My legs weakened. I crashed. Sat on the debris. Placed my hands against the biomask.

Almyra was a Harmonist.

And my family would suffer the ultimate consequence for it.

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