“This robbery tells us three things. There’s good news, bad news, and terrible news. Which one do you want first?”

  “Good news, please.”

  “The good news is—Salomae hasn’t found Ezra yet. If she had, she wouldn’t be searching through our stuff.”

  “What’s the bad news?”

  “Salomae is making moves. Her patience has run out, and we can’t stay here much longer. Anna-Lisa has to tell us where the card is hidden. We’ll have to leave for somewhere else. That leads us to the terrible news: our phone is still with Santa Mon. We have no way of communicating with your daughter.”

  “We should steal it back.”

  “Mari?” He raised an eyebrow. She straightened, neck elongated—selling off decorum. “Nice. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

  “I’ve been cleaning his house since yesterday. He expects me to continue through the weekend.”

  “How’s the pay?”

  “I wouldn’t know till he pays me.”

  “You didn’t define terms? You know he could decide not to pay you—and there’d be nothing you could do about it.”

  “Why do you do that?”

  “What?”

  “You make me…” She trailed off. “You make me feel stupid.”

  “I’m not lying.”

  “You’re not. But it’s one thing to tell the truth, and another thing to upset everyone around you.”

  Was she asking him to lie? What kind of backward thinking was that? He wasn’t about to praise her for making a basic error in contract agreement. To be fair, she had asked him to come with her—but he’d gone to the market with Miriam instead.

  “Pass me the cup,” he said, crouching beside their new gallon.

  “Don’t drink too much.”

  “I’m the one who bought the water. I can drink as much as I want.”

  “You said we shouldn’t drink from the river—or is that mandate over?”

  “We’ll buy from Santa Mon. Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”

  She went quiet.

  “Santa Mon isn’t selling anymore,” she finally said.

  “I knew it!” Jay choked on the water, triumphant even through his coughing. Mari gave him soft pats on the back. “Salomae is behind this. She’s gotten to Santa Mon—made him shut down the water tank so more people will drink from the enchanted river.”

  “Or he’s just being a greedy pig who wants to squeeze the last coin out of his residents.”

  They set off for Santa Mon’s residence after work, having borrowed buckets, detergent, bleach, rubber gloves, aprons and a hairnet for each of them.

  They met Miriam on the way—who, for once, didn’t have grease on her cheek or soot on her hands. She was in her nightgown at three in the afternoon. It didn’t look like she’d been anywhere today.

  Miriam turned to Jay, excusing herself from Mari.

  “There’s something I have to tell you,” she said. “Can you meet me in the woods today? I’ll come pick you up.”

  He wasn’t interested, but Mari would never forgive him for being upfront. He gave a simple nod. She brightened as she walked away. Mari shot him a was-that-so-hard? look, to which he returned an I’m-never-forgiving-you glower.

  Mari’s work had started yesterday, when she cleaned the ground floor. Today, she would sweep the stairs, polish the railings, and tidy up the children’s bedrooms. Before they began, she introduced Jay to the children of the house.

  “This is my son, Jay,” she said. “He’s helping me clean today. I hope you’ll be respectful and treat him with the same kindness you’ve shown me.”

  “Yes, Miss Mari,” the children sang in chorus.

  “Are you Zerah’s husband?” a little voice asked from somewhere near his knee. It belonged to a girl barely up to his thigh.

  “Who the hell is Zerah?”

  “My other daughter,” Mari said. “She stayed here with her baby.”

  Two of the girls raced toward a baby’s cot, pulling out stuffed animals and showing them off to Jay.

  “She forgot to take them with her,” one said. “I bet Will’s crying every night. He never stopped until I gave him my baby dolphin.”

  “I wonder why she was in such a hurry to leave?” one of the boys added, looking sad.

  Not that Jay cared about any of this. He had a job to do. Window cleaning.

  He sprayed the louvre blades with cleaner and wiped them down with his rag. Climbing up the ladder to reach the topmost blades, he glanced through the glass at the street below.

  Miriam happened to be passing by, wearing nothing but a cloth, carrying a bucket of water to the bathhouse. He slapped his cheek and scrambled down from the ladder, nearly tripping over the children who’d been watching him.

  Santa Mon’s children—or whoever they were—had turned cleaning day into a one-sided game of cat and mouse. They hid behind corners, squealing whenever he turned around. Jay filled his mop bucket and sprinkled water on the floorboards. He’d mopped halfway across the hall when he heard the children clattering down the stairs, whispering as they tried to sneak up on him from the other side of the house.

  He pretended not to notice, keeping his head down and his hands steady on the mop.

  “Quiet now,” one of them hissed. “He’ll see you.”

  Unable to keep his smile hidden, Jay sprang up and said, “Got you!”

  Spooked, they screamed in glee and ran for their lives. One girl, almost within arm’s reach, paled and dashed for cover—but slipped on the wet floor, slamming her head on the boards. She wailed.

  Jay didn’t know he could move that fast without his powers. He scooped her up and swept across the hall, abandoning his mop and bucket. Mari met him at the entrance to the bedroom she’d been cleaning. She took the girl from his arms and asked the children what had happened. None of them blamed Jay. They were all talking over one another, telling different stories, but no one was angry with him.

  Mari sat on the nearest bed, caressing the girl’s head to calm her. “Is there blood?” the girl asked.

  Mari felt through her hair and shook her head. “No blood,” she said softly. “But we’ll need some ice—and painkillers.”

  “Father has some in his drawer,” one of the older boys said. “I’ll fetch him for you.”

  At that moment, Jay and Mari’s eyes met. They were thinking the same thing. Mari rose to her feet as Jay caught the boy by the arm. “I’ll find Santa Mon myself,” she said. “Stay here with your sister and don’t go anywhere.”

  The children nodded firmly, huddling around the injured girl.

  Jay lingered a moment longer, watching them and taking in the room. One half had clean floors, polished windows, and tidy rows of beds; the other looked like an abandoned hospital ward.

  “Are you all related?” Jay asked.

  They frowned at him. A few broke into giggles, mimicking his accent. “We’re brother and sister, if that’s what you’re asking,” one said.

  “Yes, but did Santa Mon give birth to all of you?”

  “No,” one of the girls said. “This is where you come when your real father and mother die. Like when the police shoot them in the head for smuggling astaphite across states.”

  “Or when they tell you they’re going to buy you the red bicycle you’ve always wanted, but they never come back.”

  Jay pressed a finger to his temple. “Those men the police killed recently—are their children here?”

  They all turned their heads toward a scrawny boy hunched on a bed at the far end of the room. He sat hugging his knees, fuming at the world. Jay left before he could think too much of it. Mari had bought him enough time to break into Santa Mon’s office.

  The office door didn’t budge when he tried it. Jay fetched the mop bucket from the lower floor. The first thing he did was clean the dusty window, giving himself a clear view of the cluttered desk within. Then he started on the hallway, taking his time, waiting for Mari to arrive. If luck was on his side, she’d return with the key alone.

  “Never take their time, these kids! Running, running, running! Does it hurt still?”

  Santa Mon’s voice grew louder as he came up the stairs. Jay made himself as unnoticeable as a man nearly two metres tall could be. Santa Mon continued his rant as he approached. A quick peek confirmed Mari was with him—along with the little girl who’d hit her head. Santa Mon unlocked the office door and ushered them in without acknowledging Jay’s presence.

  He couldn’t resist a glance inside. Drawers opened. Something metal rattled. Jay pulled out his rag and started wiping the window on the other side of the office.

  The girl stood with her back to Santa Mon, who was tearing a piece of cotton wool from a bulk pack. He dipped it in spirit and pressed it against the girl’s head while Mari held her still.

  “I used to be a nurse in the army,” Santa Mon said. “Didn’t suit me much. There wasn’t enough money in it.”

  He packed his tools into the first-aid kit and set it on the shelf.

  “Since I’m already here, why don’t you let me clean this place?” Mari offered. “It could use some tidying up.”

  Santa Mon’s tone dragged. “My wife used to do that. I haven’t cleaned this place since she left us.”

  “She wouldn’t have liked it like this,” Mari said.

  Santa Mon eased back into his office chair and nodded once. “Fetch your equipment, then. I’m not leaving the office unattended.”

  “Okay,” Mari said, stepping out again. Jay and Mari spoke without words — the bastard was too careful. Mari returned with her broom and duster, closing the door behind her. Jay mopped the spot just behind the door, making sure not a speck was left. He moved backward, keeping his head down. From that angle he could see Mari taking books from Santa Mon’s shelf, tiptoeing as she used her rag to swipe dust from the highest section.

  “You remind me of her, my wife,” Santa Mon said in his usual loud voice. “Slender, elegant, soft-spoken like yourself, Mari.”

  “Thank you?” she replied.

  Santa Mon’s broad back blocked Jay’s view, but Jay could tell what he was doing. The man pressed close to Mari, running his hands down her arms. He sniffed her neck, kissing whatever skin he could reach. “Forgive me,” he said. “I can’t help myself sometimes.”

  What would the old Jay do? Kick the door down. Grab the man by the throat and beat him to a pulp. What he’d give for a fraction of power. This was the time to use his other skills — he was a disciple of Se Fina; his usefulness went beyond books.

  Jay took his mop and bucket to the far side of the office, reached up, and thumped the mop against the hallway ceiling. He grabbed the bucket and hurried down the stairs with the graceless speed of an ostrich.

  “What the hell is that noise?” Santa Mon barked. “Is someone up there?” He burst from his office and stormed down the hall. Jay caught a glimpse of him passing with a loaded plasma cannon. Santa Mon stood beneath the attic and began to curse, warning whoever it was to drop to their bellies before he went up there.

  Jay counted to three, snatched his mop, and rushed back up. “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  Santa Mon waved at him to come closer. “We’ve got thieves up there. They’ve got two choices: jump out the window to their deaths, or face us and die.”

  “They’re not getting away,” Jay said.

  He shoved the attic ceiling open. Santa Mon climbed the ladder, gun pointed up, while Jay covered his rear. They moved up the steps slowly, eyes and ears alert for any sound.

  The thief must have been digging through Santa Mon’s things. After searching for what could be more than an hour, Jay was sure, Santa Mon was tired and no longer in the mood for Mari. “Must’ve been a rat,” he said. “I better get going. I’ve kept your mother waiting for too long. I should make it up to her. You don’t mind if I keep her here for the night, do you?” He laughed, patting Jay on the shoulder.

  “I don’t mind at all,” said Jay, opening the attic door. “In fact, I like this for her. She must be tired having me all the time.”

  Santa Mon laughed. “You’re one sick man, you.”

  “I have to be honest. I didn’t enjoy it the first time, she being my mother and all. But we’ve been so lonely, crammed in that room. Things happen when it’s dark, and we pretend we’re not who we are.”

  Santa Mon didn’t laugh as loudly. He didn’t laugh at all. “That’s not funny a second time.”

  “That’s why I said this is good for her,” Jay said, straight faced. He scratched his groin and winced.

  “What’s with you? What do you have?”

  “Nothing,” said Jay. “Just a rash.”

  Santa Mon walked into his office, and a second later Mari slipped out. She raised a thumb and flashed a smile. They got out while they could.

  They laughed all night, cooped up in the dark shed. Santa Mon was easy to make fun of once you’d gotten the better of him. Mari broke into giggles every time Jay mimicked their landlord — gun raised, stomping about, hunting invisible thieves.

  Their only light came from the dim glow of Jay’s phone screen.

  “Do you mind taking a quick photo of me?” he asked. “One day, I’ll look back at it and remember what I’ve been through.”

  She took the phone and knelt a short distance in front of him. Jay tilted his head, raised one knee, and pouted his thick, buttery lips. He might’ve been a peasant, but he was, by some margin, the world’s sexiest peasant.

  “It’s locked,” she said. “Which button do I press?”

  Jay unlocked it with his core’s signature and handed it back. It would stay open as long as she didn’t turn off the screen again.

  Mari squinted at the glow. “It’s so dark.”

  “Set it to night mode.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Have you never had a phone before?”

  “Our commissioner bought one for our priest,” she said. “I never got close enough to see him use it.”

  After a bit of coaching on how to hold it the right side up, she learned which button to press and when. Mari took a few decent shots.

  “Come here, let’s take one together,” he said.

  She crawled onto his mattress and smiled awkwardly, shoulder to shoulder with Jay.

  “I’m posting everything once we get back home,” he said, scrolling through the pictures.

  “We?”

  “Of course. I’m not leaving you in this shithole. You’re coming with me to Henrik City.”

  “I’m flattered, Jay, but that’s not legal.”

  “Nonsense. We have tons of earthens in the city — they work as dossi. But I’m not asking you to be my servant. You’ll be my guest.”

  They sat with their backs to the wall while Mari flipped through his photo collection from Henrikia — the people, the uniforms, the number of likes each post got. She didn’t seem too impressed, or maybe he’d spent too long zooming in on his abs. Before he realized it, her eyes had gone heavy, and she’d turned his sharp shoulder into a pillow. Jay sat up straighter so she wouldn’t wake with neck pain.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Santa would never have followed you to the office if you hadn’t seduced him,” he said quietly.

  “How did you do it?”

  “I didn’t.” She snorted. “I don’t even think I know how.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Earthen women seduce our soldiers all the time. Come on — there has to be a secret. Tell me.”

  “There is no secret,” she said. “I went there to clean his office. That’s all. That’s what we always did.”

  Jay wasn’t satisfied. It felt like she was mocking him.

  “Did you see me behave shamelessly?” she asked.

  “No, but —”

  “I got money. I didn’t ask for it, but I got money.”

  “It’s not the same,” he said, and she knew it was true. “Talon told us it was sex work, but if you didn’t ask for it, why didn’t you report the soldiers?”

  “Because we liked the money. We needed it. On the nights it happened, I would thank Rheina for the money. On the nights it didn’t happen, I would go home with my dignity,” she said. “I don’t know what that makes me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I pray you never have to.”

  The temptation to call Anna-Lisa and ask for Ezra’s hiding place was strong, but the caveat the annoying girl had put in place proved effective in practice. The moment he called and asked for Ezra’s hiding place, Anna-Lisa would cut ties with him and Mari forever. But could he sit still knowing what was coming. How could they survive in Groverton any longer than this?

  Mari fell asleep on his shoulders. Mustering up strength, he carried her to bed. Just as he lay on his own mattress, a knock rattled their door. He tapped Mari awake, handed her the phone and snuck his way to the door. Peeping through a small crack, he picked up on a skirt with flowery designs. Miriam.

  “It’s late, Miriam, what do you want?”

  “I asked you to come with me to the forest earlier today.”

  He had completely forgotten. Jay folded his fist, biting his tongue. Could he risk it. “You said you had something to show me.” He turned to Mari who nodded her approval. He couldn’t just leave Mari alone for the night. It was too risky.”

  Well, the truth would confuse Miriam. He would let her down easy. Jay opened the door and stepped outside. Miriam had done her hair. She smelled like roses and had blue astaphite gems dangling on her ears. She was in a blouse to compliment the skirt. “All this for a trip to the woods?”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” she said. “Shall we?”

  The nights in Groverton had never been as lively as they were today. Almost everyone he could recognise was out, gathered behind some fire. Those pesky children were there as well, digging through a cart of rubbish they must have picked up from the yard. They were sorting out electronics — broken cameras, broken phones, wires, cracked crystals, worn-out levithium blades and the like.

  “Mari’s not feeling well,” he said. “I’m not comfortable leaving her alone.”

  Miriam’s expression turned from disappointment to concern. “What’s wrong? Can I see her?”

  Jay stopped her from entering. “She’s asleep. I need her to rest. If she’s not fine by tomorrow, I’ll let you know.”

  “I wish I could see her,” said Miriam.

  “I know, but thank you.”

  “Alright then,” she said. “I guess we could meet tomorrow instead.”

  “Definitely,” he lied.

  He waited until she was far off before letting out a sigh. Jay turned to head back inside when he heard the children gasp together, then whistle.

  “She’s pretty.”

  They must have found a dirty magazine among their things.

  “Give it.”

  “Found it first.”

  “So what?”

  “Let go!”

  “It’s mine!”

  Jay stopped, a chill creeping through him. He turned from his door. Two boys had an unidentifiable object gripped between their hands, circling each other in the dirt in a tug-of-war. One kicked the other so hard he fell into the dust, letting go. The paper in the victor’s hand gleamed as it caught the moonlight. He spread it out and smiled at it, kissing the page.

  “Hey!” Jay bellowed, cutting across the plain. The boys jumped back, distancing themselves from the junk. The one with the card hid it behind his back. “Give it.”

  “Why?” the boy asked, shivering.

  “I just want to take a look.”

  “I bet it’s worth a fortune,” one of them whispered.

  “Where did you find it?”

  They didn’t want to answer, but their eyes gave them away. There was a large briefcase lying among the junk. It contained some crystals, discs, and old documents. Jay controlled his breathing, relaxing his arms.

  “I just want to take a look,” he managed to say.

  “Fine,” the boy said. “Take.”

  He spread his hands wide open. Left hand? Right hand? Empty. Another boy was already darting down the road. Jay cursed and sprinted after him. The rest of them hooted, chasing from behind.

  The former ascender gassed up, boosting his speed by a resounding margin. The boy cut a sharp left, sprinting through a dark alley. Jay drifted, lost his footing, and slammed into a barrel. Regaining balance, he shot back onto the path and into the alley.

  The gap was smaller than the little vermin had thought. The boy made a second left and ran straight into a group of men sitting around a fire barrel. Jay stopped where the boy stopped, steadying his breathing.

  One by one, the men rose to their feet, kicking away their benches and folding their arms. They were not pleased to see him here. One of them had his hand around the boy’s shoulder. The boy stuck out his tongue at Jay and handed the paper to the man.

  “What’s this, Son?” the man grumbled.

  “I don’t know, but he wants it,” the boy said. “He said he’d kill me if I didn’t give it to him.”

  The man frowned at the card, then at Jay. He passed it to his friends, who also couldn’t make heads or tails of it.

  “Toss it in the fire,” the boy’s father ordered.

  “No, please,” said Jay, stepping forward. “Please.”

  He’d caught their interest.

  “You’re the boy who hid Miriam. They say you’re a troublemaker.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “I’m looking for a man like you,” the man said. “Agree to a favour, and I’ll give you your paper back.”

  “Fine,” said Jay through his teeth.

  The men leaned their heads back.

  “I’m Yohan,” said the man with the card. “Take it.”

  Jay couldn’t believe his eyes. He expected a schoolboy trick where Yohan would snatch Ezra away at the last minute. Jay played the fool and reached out for it anyway. He took the paper, rubbed his hand on the smooth surface and still waited for the trick. There was none. Why had they chosen to trust him so easily? He could run off right now. But that would prove what a scumbag he really was. Jay pocketed the card and folded his arms, bracing for Yohan’s proposal.

  “The men at the yard say you’ve got a sharp tongue. They hate it, but they also say you’re right about a lot of things. Bishop’s injury isn’t on your head. That blood is on our fat landlord’s hands. Right now, he’s no better than the elites we fight.”

  “You’re not asking me to kill Santa Mon?”

  “Would you have done it?”

  Jay grunted. The men burst into laughter. “Hell, man, you are crazy,” Yohan said.

  “I knew he was mental from the first day I laid eyes on him,” one of Yohan’s men said. “Who kills a man over a piece of paper?”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “We’ve not had any water for the last few days. He’s raised the prices so high no one can afford it. Santa locks the pump every night. We want you to sneak into his compound and open it.”

  “That’s it?” said Jay. “Sounds simple. Why do you need me for that?”

  “Santa shoots anyone who trespasses. We have families.”

  “And I don’t?”

  “Yours doesn’t matter as much as ours.”

  All things considered, this was a far simpler task than murder. They gathered behind the women’s bathhouse, the closest point to the water tower. As they watched the mansion for signs of sleep, more townsfolk joined them in the shadows with buckets and gallons.

  The back of Santa’s mansion had a fence. Within that fence was the water valve — a wheel so low to the ground you had to know what you were looking for to see it. Beside a dry garden, some rusted equipment and broken bicycles, there was nothing else to find. One window was open on the highest floor, and from it Santa Mon could point his gun and shoot anyone he found below. The lights were off. No one was around. Shooting fish in a barrel, Jay was about to put the saying to the test.

  “Get it done,” Yohan said, slapping Jay on the shoulder. He looked behind him. The rest of the townsfolk gave him approving nods. How many would remain to drag his body out of the compound when a hole was blown through his guts?

  He took a deep breath, let it out and went on his way. Knees low, back bent, he treaded through the thick mud surrounding the water tank. The closer he got to the fence, the higher it seemed. He could have made it in one leap had he not been so powerless. Jay thumped his belly, loosening the knots. He ran his hand across the metallic mesh in front of him. It was cold. Once again he looked back and saw the villagers frozen, their breaths held. Yohan gave him a thumbs up. The bastard.

  Jay clenched his teeth, grasped the fence and pulled himself up. The metal clinked and shook under his weight. His dirty boots slipped on the shiny surface. He grunted, pushing himself further over. Jay reached the top and leaned the other way, dropping into the compound. He landed with a thud and bent down to become one with the shadows.

  A light flickered on. He lay flat on the ground. It was on the second floor — a water closet flushed and the light went back off. This was no time to sigh. He crouched and moved with haste, skirting the broken equipment and checking possible hiding places for when it became necessary. He glanced again at the highest window. No one had heard him. Finally, he reached the valve. Now it was time for the hardest part.

  The old wheel was rusted and bound to creak once he turned it. He warmed his hand and wrapped his fingers around it. Jay closed his eyes. One, two…

  “Psst!” Yohan waved from behind the fence. He gestured for Jay to come over. Reaching through, Yohan passed a small bottle between the bars. It gleamed with a yellow liquid — oil.

  Jay did the needful, dipping the oil around the base of the valve. He turned it once. Hearing nothing, he turned it all the way. Then he gestured to Yohan to try the faucets by the tank. They responded with an affirmative. Jay began the slow journey back, climbing the fence with far more speed than he’d managed getting in.

  The people had already formed a queue. To avoid making noise, they’d devised a strategy to fill everyone’s buckets. The children carried smaller ones, which they would fill, then slip into the shadows to empty into the larger containers.

  He’d done his part. Jay had been away from Mari for far too long. When no one was paying attention, he slipped into one of the alleys and made his way along the road. It seemed many had caught on to what was happening — figures were moving through the shadows towards the water tank. How long until they were caught? He wouldn’t be there to find out.

  “Hey,” Yohan called, stopping him. He flipped a coin that Jay caught. “For your troubles.” On it was the head of a balding man with a curly beard — someone important, perhaps, in Soden’s history.

  Though they were making progress, there was one peculiar detail that did not sit right with him. While one group of children were helping fill the buckets at the water tank, another group were coming from the river’s direction. Both emptied their contents into barrels. Jay knew for a fact the river was contaminated. Opening the tank had played straight into the swayer’s hands. The whole town could be under her possession by morning.

  He felt the pain of a fool — the headache that came when you realised you’d been scammed. What Jay didn’t yet know was just how much worse things were about to become when he reached into his back pocket and took out Ezra.

  Had it been stolen? No. There she was — a black card with the picture of a sombre girl. The problem was, the texture didn’t feel right. Not only that, the colour was off. With each passing second, his pain worsened. And as his pain worsened, his eyes opened.

  Kennco.

  A receipt for the purchase of three boxes of Kennco resistors. Jay crunched the paper until it smouldered from the heat of friction. Mari. Was it too late? He ran as fast as his legs could carry him. “Mari!” he yelled, barging in.

  Mari sat on her bed, pressed against the wall. Sitting beside her was Miriam, a pistol pressed to Mari’s head. Both were terrified. “Close the door, Jay, and sit down,” said Miriam, her voice trembling.

  A swayer takes advantage of your innermost desires. They nurture those desires, leaving you to act upon them. Why would Miriam want to kill Mari? He pondered the question as he sat on his lean mattress, waiting for what would come next.

  “He’s here,” said Mari, quiet and dry. “Tell us what you want.”

  Miriam went lifeless. She did not respond to that question or to any plea Mari made. It was pointless to try. Whatever Salomae had planned for them would wait until the entire town had consumed the infected water — something bound to take hours.

  I should have been more careful. I shouldn’t have chased that boy. I should’ve come straight home when Yohan gave me the card. I should’ve known something like this could happen. I was a fool. I still am. I won’t forgive myself if anything happens to this woman.

  He would make it right. With Miriam a husk of herself, Jay might be able to disarm her if he moved quickly enough. The moment he shifted his footing, Miriam snapped out of her lifeless state. She pressed Mari’s head down, shoved the gun to the back of her skull and glared at Jay, daring him to move. “Sit,” she commanded.

  “Why?” asked Jay, retreating. “Why would you do this to Mari? Why do you hate her?”

  “It’s you I hate, Jay,” Miriam said. “The hospital called me this morning. They told me my father is dead. That’s what I wanted to tell you today — and to say goodbye. You saw him struggling on the floor and couldn’t find it in your heart to help him. You couldn’t be a decent person to help a struggling old man. Maybe if I shoot your mother, you’ll know how it feels.”

  “Alright, I’m here. I’ll do anything you say. Please, let go of Mari.” Miriam released her grip on Mari’s hair, but there remained no distance between them.

  “You’ll do anything I say?” Miriam asked. Jay nodded, forcing down saliva. Miriam pulled a phone from behind Mari and tossed it to him. “Call Anna-Lisa.”

  “She won’t—”

  “Call her!”

  Mari forgave him before he could act. She put on a brave face, forcing a smile moist with grief. He dialled Anna-Lisa and handed the phone to Miriam.

  “Tell me where you’re hiding the card or Mari dies,” Miriam said. “You have three seconds. One, two… Thank you.”

  The door opened and Yohan strode in with men like him. They filled the small room, hands in their jackets, faces neutral. It was as if they hadn’t seen Jay slumped on his mattress or the gun pressed to Mari’s head.

  “She placed it in a sewing kit and buried it beneath a tree in the woods. The base of the trunk is marked black,” Miriam said. “Gather everyone you can and start searching under the only black tree you can find.”

  “Did she give any other details?” Yohan asked.

  “We should be looking towards the west, but I think that’s a lie to waste our time.”

  Yohan and his men left. An announcement sounded through the whole of Groverton: every able-bodied person was to grab a shovel or spade, torches and lamps — they were going treasure hunting.

  “And what if you don’t find it?” Jay asked.

  “I’ll kill Mari and call her again,” Miriam said.

  “She won’t lie,” Mari said. “I’m the reason she’s out there. If I die, she’s done it all for nothing. So let us go now. We have no hope of catching the swayer.”

  “I can’t let you interfere,” Miriam said, her tone kinder than with Jay. “Until we find Ezra, no one leaves.”

  The gun Miriam wielded was unlike any model Jay knew. Could it be a fake? An illusion like the Ezra card he’d been given? No — it had to be real. Salomae may have crafted and passed it on to Miriam. This Salomae was far more dangerous than he’d acknowledged. He’d focused so much on her ability as a swayer that he’d forgotten she was a competent crafter too. He remembered the knife wounds she’d given him on Genevie’s ship. Hybrids, like Mari’s ascender son, were a particular kind of danger when at full potential.

  “If you’re going to kill anyone tonight, it should be me,” Jay said. “As you know, I am the real Jay Arson. I’m here to learn a lesson. All my life there has been only one person whose opinion of me mattered — my father. He taught me everything I know, the good and the bad. I did not see you as human, nor did I regard your thoughts and feelings as valid. That was wrong. You and this whole town matter. I should not have turned my back on your father. I’m sorry.”

  Miriam bowed her head, shaking it. She sniffled, unable to hold back the tears. “I’m supposed to kill Mari if she tries to leave Groverton. But I’m not going to do it. You can leave.”

  “If we do that, Miriam,” Jay said cautiously, “you do know what will happen to you, right?”

  Mari’s breathing stuttered and she gripped the sheets.

  “You know where it is, don’t you?” Jay asked Mari.

  “I don’t.”

  “Don’t lie to me.”

  “Mari, it’s okay,” Miriam said. “I don’t want the witch to win either. You can go.”

  She shook her head hard, as if trying to dislodge a demon from her mind. “You’ll die if I leave this room,” said Mari.

  “You’re not responsible for my life, Mari,” Miriam replied.

  “I’ll tell Jay where—”

  “I’m not leaving this room without you,” Jay said. “What’s the point of finding Ezra when Salomae has you hostage?”

  “What else can we do?” Mari asked.

  “Please,” Miriam said. “Go. Come back for me when you find what you’re looking for.”

  “You told me Ezra was special,” Jay said. “If she can help me, she can save Miriam too.”

  Mari stayed where she sat, turning Jay’s words over. Shame softened her stance until she bent forward. Turning to Miriam, she said, “I won’t leave Groverton without you.”

  Miriam sank back into lifelessness. She gripped her pistol with all her might, recoiling when they tried to take it from her hand. Jay recovered something far more important — his phone. Blood trickled from Miriam’s nose; the corners of her eyes reddened. Seeing her like this, he couldn’t help but remember his own father, also under a swayer’s curse. To resist the spell was agonising — death a reasonable release. Miriam was strong to let them go. He would never disrespect her again.

  Sunlight threatened the dawn sky. Through the dusky, mist-filled air they searched for signs of life. The old town lay empty; the forest was noisy. Those not infected by Salomae’s germs watched from the forest edge, wondering what had overtaken everyone so suddenly. The question remained: how would they sneak through the woods without being caught?

  “You’re looking the wrong way,” Mari said, grabbing Jay by the shoulders. “Salomae did not understand what Anna-Lisa meant. The card is hidden in Santa Mon’s house.”

  That was somehow worse. If they were lucky, he wouldn’t be home. Jay led the way, taking long strides but slowing for Mari to keep up. Several buckets lay upturned around the water tank, many with bullet holes. The windows on all floors were shut, except one to the right of the front door. There were a number of his wagons parked in the compound among motorcycles and a mini truck. The path to the front steps was open.

  “How is your luck, Mari?” asked Jay.

  “I’ve never had any.”

  “Me neither.”

  “The next step we take could be our last. Either Santa Mon is about to blast us to bits or he might not be home at all.”

  Mari took a bold step forward. Then another. Jay winced each time she moved. Maybe this was the right strategy — Santa Mon liked Mari; she reminded him of his wife, after all.

  A plasma cannon loaded.

  Jay pounced, grabbed the silly woman and dragged her to the ground, rolling her onto her belly. “Move, move, move!” He threw himself over her, forming a shield as she crawled like a drugged worm toward the only shed ahead. Bolts of blue plasma scoured the compound, blasting craters around them.

  “YOU’LL NEVER GET ME, WITCH, NEVER!” roared Santa Mon, firing harder. His terror was monstrous. Dirt rained from above like hail. Mayhem unrelenting, Jay rolled with it, scooped Mari up and ran like hell. He kicked in the shed door they’d been aiming for.

  He patted her down, checking for injuries. The glow from the plasma shots illuminated the dark room.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked. “He’ll attract Salomae’s attention like this.”

  “I’m a disciple of Se Fina, Mari,” said Jay. “Do you know what that means?” She shook her head, worried he’d gone mad. “It means I learned magic the proper way.”

  He pulled the coin from his pocket and sat on the floor. “Find me something sharp — anything I can scrape the coin with.”

  She rummaged through the shed: cups, pans, upturned boxes. “Found anything?” she asked, and poked him with a little knife. He knelt and worked quietly, tinkering with the coin. Mari hovered over him, her breath warm on the back of his neck. Jay began: a triangle, a single dot in the middle, a scraped circle around it, a second triangle, three more dots, finishing with an encircling ring.

  Mari frowned. “What is that supposed to be?”

  “I’m combining a crafter hex and a marker hex,” Jay said. “Control with speed and power.” The corners of her mouth fell. “What?” he yelled. “Can you do better?”

  She shook her head.

  Jay squeezed the coin in both palms. “Geles, Fury — don’t embarrass me today. Please, let it work.” A tickling sensation ran through his palm. The coin vibrated with boundless energy and gave off a faint blue glow. Now or never.

  He burst into the open, formed a ring with his fingers over his eye and flicked the coin. A blue streak cut across the compound and shot through a window. The plasma cannon veered off course, firing wildly through the house. Screams erupted inside. As sudden as it had started, all was quiet again.

  “Mari, let’s go!” He helped her out of the house, yanking her toward the mansion. Jay pounded at the front door, landing kick after kick until it gave in.

  Santa Mon lay on his back, a blue coin lodged in his brow and a pool of blood around his head. The plasma cannon lay on the floor beside him, the building pocked with holes where it had blasted through. Santa Mon’s children lined the stairs, watching their patron’s motionless body.

  Their expressions were very familiar to Jay — he’d seen that look many times on the faces of children in the Midder-Lands. He knew how to ignore it. Jay grabbed Santa’s gun and his keys and told Mari to move. She excused herself as she went up the stairs.

  Barging outside, he tested the keys until one sparked the mini truck’s engine. Jay opened the rear container and slipped back indoors. “Mari, where’s the kitchen?” he called.

  “Down the hall, to your left!” she yelled back.

  He’d had a lot of practice lifting heavy things recently, and he put his back to use, carrying crate after crate of water, milk cartons, eggs, drinks and whatever he could find in the fridge. He squeezed a loaf of bread under one arm and two gallons of fruit juice under the other. After dumping everything in the back of the truck he shut the door.

  “There he is.” The voice was close, approaching from behind. A horde ran their way.

  “Mari!” he roared. “Found it?”

  She did not answer. Jay long-pressed the crafter symbol on the plasma cannon, aimed it through the window and set it loose. He opened fire, temporarily assuming Santa Mon’s mantle as landlord. The men dug for cover. It wouldn’t hold out indefinitely; the cannon would overheat. The numbers were increasing. Salomae had caught on and was coming — he just couldn’t tell from where.

  “Mari!”

  “It’s here,” she said, running down the stairs, a dark paper clutched in her hand.

  “Follow me,” he said, bursting through the door. They hurried to the running truck outside. Jay handed the cannon to Mari as he switched into reverse. He swerved around a parked motorcycle, made a sharp turn and shot out onto the rough road with a bang.

  Hundreds of townsfolk rushed to block the road — old and young, men and women, their eyes gleaming in the headlights, moist with fear.

  “Jay,” Mari said, grabbing his arm. “Jay, stop the car!”

  Jay pressed the pedal. He surged past them before the barrier could form. They stood like lifeless husks, watching him escape. Soon they reached the steep hill leading out of Groverton.

  “Take Ezra,” she said. “And let me down.”

  He drove on, eyes fixed on the road. Jay ground his molars, tightening his grip on the steering wheel. “Jay, Miriam,” Mari called.

  “We can’t save everyone, Mari,” he said. “It’s not possible.”

  Mari bent low, pressing her face against the cannon and screamed. She pounded her fists on his arms, slapped his face, and struck his head. When that wasn’t enough, she slammed against the dashboard repeatedly, breaking down in tears. “I can’t do this anymore,” she sobbed. “I can’t keep doing this.”

  There was nothing he could say. He drove on. By the first light of sunrise, they were out of Groverton and back on the open road. In the far distance, a bright white light glimmered in an old shed. The echo of gunfire rippled through the trees.