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  To Kristin Dodson, without whom I never would’ve made it this far. You constantly encourage me and inspire me to do better—and make me laugh so much it should be illegal. I love you. Also I promise I’m laughing with you, not at you.

  1

  LAI

  BRIGHT YELLOW CAUTION tape surrounds the warehouses, almost glowing in the moonlight. Caution tape, and more than a fair number of guards. They patrol the long, low concrete structures. There aren’t many windows, but there are a few gaping holes from the rebels’ attack almost a week ago. More than doable as break-in entrances. If the High Council didn’t have so many other matters to take care of, they probably would’ve ordered the openings boarded up. But between the rebel Nytes’ declaration of war, public panic at the rebels’ infiltration of the sector and successful attack here, and my team’s “betrayal” and subsequent escape from prison two days ago, they’ve had a few other things going on. Still. The rebels must’ve attacked this place for a reason. They wouldn’t have gone out of their way to pull such a risky operation if it didn’t somehow further their goal of wiping out all the ungifted. And the Council wouldn’t have set so many guards here if there wasn’t something to hide.

  Even though the attack is long finished, I almost imagine I can see smoke curling up from the ash-stained buildings. That I hear screams in the distance as the civilians who were working here suddenly found themselves face-to-face with death.

  I shake my head. Not helping.

  Behind me in the underbrush concealing us, Erik cocks his head in question. I wave it off.

  The team should’ve had enough time by now to get to their respective positions. I reach out with my gift to check on everyone’s thoughts.

  Everyone ready? I ask telepathically.

  Yeah. From Erik, both of us hiding across from the main warehouse building. We’ll be the ones who go in. With my extensive history of sneaking around and breaking into places and his useful gift of telekinesis, it was decided we had the best chances of success.

  Roger. From Jay, stationed by the back of the warehouses, his gift already sweeping over the buildings to sense and track the people inside. Our eyes.

  Can we just start already? From Al, over by the front entrance. Why do I always have to be the distraction?

  Because you’re good at it.

  Disgruntled, half-formed thoughts come back to me in reply.

  Before the rebels ambushed our team almost a week ago, I might’ve smiled. As it is, I hold back my irritation that she can’t just suck it up and follow the plan we all agreed on without complaining.

  Okay. Let’s go.

  I’ve barely sent the thought to everyone when a flash suddenly splits the night. Flames engulf the wooden bits of the front gate. Guards all over the grounds shout and race toward the entrance. Their swords and badges shine in the light of the fire.

  “That idiot,” I hiss. “What are we going to do if the guards call for backup? Not to mention anyone in the area will be able to see an inferno like that. I told her to start a small fire—what part of that is so hard to understand?”

  “Guess we better get in and out fast, then,” Erik says. He’s already standing, shadows cast by the trees and shrubs around us flickering over his pale face. His messy blond hair looks duller in the night, his bright green eyes uncharacteristically serious.

  I sigh, but there’s no point continuing my rant. He’s right.

  We make a run for the nearest opening in the building—a jagged, gaping thing that looks intent on swallowing us whole. All the guards outside have swarmed to the fire by the front, so there’s no one to stop us.

  Be careful. There are two guards not far inside the first corridor, to the left. They’re moving fast. Alarmed. Probably trying to figure out what’s happening outside.

  Got it. Thanks, Jay.

  I pass the message on to Erik and he nods. As soon as we’re inside, we duck underneath a table with two of its legs broken off one side; it leans precariously against the wall, forming enough of a gap for us to hide in.

  It’s only thanks to Jay’s warning that we don’t run straight into that pair of guards. My gift can’t pinpoint the location of thoughts. And as dark as it had been outside, the hazy moonlight and guards’ flashlights had provided some light. Inside, it’s unexpectedly, totally dark. The electricity is probably down from the rebel attack. But there are no temporary lights set up, no signs of brightness from the guards—nothing to indicate their presence.

  Erik and I sit in still silence as they hurry through the hall. I can barely see the edge of their night-vision goggles as they pass. So. The Council is trying to give its men the home advantage by intentionally leaving this place in the dark. Smart—except the Councilors forget they’re dealing with Nytes.

  Once the guards are gone, Erik and I slip out of our hiding space and down the hall to the left, the way they came from. Even though my eyes have somewhat adjusted to the dark, it’s still hard not to run into anything. Rubble litters the floor, along with broken bits of furniture, scattered files and papers, shattered glass. It crunches under our boots, and I cringe at the noise. Jay guides us through the building and out of the way of the guards.

  We’ve just reached the safe room, the most likely place anything important would be kept, when Jay’s thoughts burst in. They’ve extinguished the fire. Johann’s started another, but they’ve caught on that someone is doing this intentionally. They’re looking for her—and doubling back into the building to search for intruders.

  Shit. Got it.

  “We have to hurry,” I whisper to Erik. “They’re coming.”

  Erik waves his hand, and the bent metal door propped against the doorframe in front of us lifts into the air as easily as a piece of paper and sets itself back down out of our way. “Good thing we’re here.”

  “Close your eyes.” I reach for my necklace and touch one of the power crystals hanging from it. Syon’s power crystal is small and electric-yellow, no bigger than my thumbnail. When I draw out his gift from it, light immediately floods the safe room, blinding if you didn’t have your eyes closed to the initial intensity of it. As soon as the light calms down, I open my eyes.

  Before us is a space no bigger than our old bedrooms back in the military. The walls are solid metal, dented and scorched in multiple places. Cracks streak the linoleum floor. A few overturned filing cabinets are the only furniture, but whatever contents they might’ve once held have clearly been emptied out. The drawers hang open at awkward angles, the locks snapped clean off. Erik lifts them into the air with his gift anyway, shakes them, but nothing falls out. There’s nothing else here.

  Erik looks at me. “Lai.”

  “No,” I say. “This can’t be it. There has to be something.”

  “Lai, whatever was here, the rebels have it now.”

  “No. They must have left something behind. Why else would the Council be
guarding this place?”

  “How should I know? Maybe they’re just trying to keep people out for their own good. This place is a wreck.”

  Three guards headed your way. You need to get out of there, now.

  I bite my lip.

  Erik catches it. “Message from Jay?”

  “Three guards incoming.”

  “Then we need to go.”

  “But—”

  “Lai.” His voice is sharp. “There’s nothing here.”

  “The rebels stole whatever was in this room, but what if there’s something else the Council is hiding out here?”

  “You’re the one who stole the blueprints of this place. You said yourself there were no other secured rooms in these buildings.”

  “But what if—”

  Lai. Go. Now.

  I choke back my aggravation. With heavy feet, I turn to the empty doorframe. “Let’s go.”

  Erik and I make it about five steps before shouts of discovery ricochet through the hall. No use for stealth now. We run.

  Our boots pound over rocks and glass, the noise echoed by the guards pursuing us.

  Jay, how many behind us?

  Four for now, but more converging on your location.

  The words have barely entered my head when a blaring alarm rings through the building.

  “Great,” Erik mutters. “Just what we needed.”

  “Better look alive,” I say as two guards rush in front of us from an intersecting hallway. I pull a black metal cylinder from my belt and click the button on its side. Metal pieces unfold from inside it and snap into place until I’m holding a double-headed spear. I don’t slow down, just keep running until I’m right in front of one of the guards. She thrusts her sword forward, but I duck to the side, grab her wrist, and twist it until she drops her weapon. A knee to her gut, and she’s on the ground clutching her stomach. The other guard swings an axe toward me, but before it gets anywhere close, he’s flying back through the air. He crashes against the wall with a whoosh of lost breath.

  Erik rolls his wrist easily as he runs past me. “No sweat.”

  I roll my eyes as I fall in beside him. “Must be nice to have such an overpowered gift.”

  “You would know.”

  We keep running, stopping only when guards stand in our way, and only long enough to dispatch them.

  You’re going to be surrounded soon. You have to get out of the building.

  That would be ideal—the only problem is finding an exit.

  Why find one?

  I pause, almost taking a fist to the face before I use my spear shaft to sweep the legs out from under the guard in front of me.

  “Erik, you wanna make us a way out?” I ask.

  Erik glances at me as he dodges back from a guard’s sword swing. He grins. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of that.”

  We switch places as he runs a little farther ahead and I take on the guard. The guard’s sword comes down on my spear shaft. I tilt the shaft so his blade slides down it and he loses his balance. He backsteps, but I rush in at his side. His sword swings up to block, but I strike his knuckles with my shaft and the weapon drops from his grip with a clatter. A kick to his stomach and he’s down. After facing the rebel Nytes, fighting a bunch of Etioles feels like beating up children. As if they could hope to match a Nyte’s enhanced speed and strength.

  When I look for Erik, I find him standing ahead with a bunch of broken furniture pieces and beams hovering in the air. With one shove of his hands, the clump of parts thrusts through the concrete wall all at once. A groan like an earthquake rocks the hall as dust showers down. The guards pursuing us freeze as the building shudders.

  “C’mon!” Erik shouts as he races through his makeshift exit. Like I need telling—I’m already sprinting after him as fast as my feet will take me.

  We break out into the cool night air and keep running. Shouts surge up around us into the night, along with an ominous creaking, but we don’t stop. A few guards break off to try to detain us, but Erik deals with them with a wave of his hand. As soon as we’ve jumped the gate, Jay and Al are there waiting for us. We don’t say anything as we disappear into the maze of streets beyond the warehouse grounds’ perimeter.

  * * *

  We manage to make it back to the safehouse without incident. Our hideout is a tiny apartment, one just like every other in the area: rickety, old, and barely standing. The inside is sparsely furnished, with just one main room, a kitchenette in the back, and a small bathroom. A landlord in the Order owns it and lets members use it as needed, whether it be for secret meetups outside our home base, screenings of new members, or anything else. Like when some of us need a place to hide.

  “So that was a waste of time,” Al says as soon as we’re inside. She throws her jacket into her self-chosen corner of the room with more anger than the thing deserves. Without it, the scars on her muscular arms catch the dim light, faint streaks against her dark brown skin. She runs a hand over her close-shaven black hair.

  “And just whose fault is that?” I twist the door’s lock with a snap. “What part of small fire didn’t you understand? We could’ve had more time to investigate if you hadn’t been so obvious. But no, you just had to make it huge and flashy like always and blow the fact that we were there.”

  “Oh, what, so it’s my fault the place was empty?” Al spins on her heel to come back and stand right in my face. She lifts her chin. “My fault the rebels stole whatever was there? My fault your stupid plan was pointless?”

  “Like you had a better plan in mind?”

  “Stop,” Jay says. He sets a hand on each of our shoulders. Al jerks away. “We’re all disappointed, tired, and stressed. It’s been a hard couple of days and an even harder week. We need to stick together at a time like this, not blame each other.”

  Jay’s usually tidy black hair is a ruffled mess. His thoughts drag with exhaustion, but even so, he’s trying to keep everyone together. I want to smooth his hair down, take off his glasses, look him in his gentle brown eyes, and tell him it’ll be okay, we’ll be okay. But I can’t. I don’t say empty words.

  “Whatever,” Al says. She’s already heading for her corner. There’s only one mattress in the place, and tonight is Erik’s turn to use it.

  Erik himself is staring off into space. An unsettling new habit he’s picked up since our prison break.

  I’d been worried about Erik after the High Council turned on us and declared us traitors, and while he’s mostly gone back to his old sarcastic self, my anxiety increases by the day. How long until he decides staying in the sector that betrayed him isn’t worth it? How long until he gets tired of our rapidly disintegrating team? How long until he wants to know about his past badly enough to return to the rebels?

  Stop that, I tell myself. Erik isn’t going anywhere. He’s our friend.

  “Look, the warehouses were a bust,” Al says, still with her back to us. “That’s finished. We can’t just sit around doing nothing, so we need to pick a new direction. A more useful one.”

  “Such as?” Erik asks.

  But Al doesn’t have anything to offer. She knows she’s right—we all do—but no next step comes to mind. Well. Not to Al’s or Erik’s mind.

  I feel Jay watching me. Don’t you think this is a good time to tell them about the Order?

  Jay’s gaze is steady when I meet his eyes, but that just makes me look away again.

  I still haven’t told Al and Erik about the secret organization seeking peace between gifted and ungifted that I helped found with several old friends. I need to. They’re already suspicious about me just happening to know a place for us to hide out. But I don’t want to. The four of us can barely hold a conversation for more than ten seconds without it dissolving into a fight anymore.

  Our peace coalition of gifted and ungifted is sacred to me. I don’t want to bring two impulsive, mistrustful people—one who could decide to go to the rebels and another who indirectly caused the death of Paul, one of
my oldest friends—to the Order just because we have nowhere else to go. But I also know it’s our only option. I won’t abandon my team, and there’s no other place for all of us. I just don’t want to face it yet.

  “How many times have we had this conversation already?” Erik asks when no one says anything aloud. “Isn’t that why we decided to investigate the warehouses? We have nowhere to go, we’re notoriously wanted criminals, and there’s nothing we can do to fight against the rebels without drawing attention to ourselves and getting caught by the military. We’re stuck.”

  “Everything’s going to be fine,” Jay says softly but firmly, in that way only he can, with words only he could say without anyone getting angry or arguing over them. “We just need a little time. Once the rebels make their next move, the military will have to shift their focus from finding us to countering them.”

  He doesn’t mention the Order. He doesn’t say if Erik and Al wait just a little longer, we’ll be able to go somewhere we can actually work toward making a difference. Even though he doesn’t understand my hesitation, he doesn’t interfere with my decision.

  That consideration is so like him. A well of gratitude surges in my chest and I send the telepathic message, Thank you. He smiles slightly but says nothing aloud.

  “How long are we going to have to wait?” Al mutters. She sits with a thump and props her chin up on her fist, but her impatience from before has already blown away. Now she only looks tired. “The longer we just sit around here, the more damage the rebels can do.”

  “I know,” Jay says. “Believe me, I know. But if we move too rashly, we’re just going to make more trouble for ourselves—and then we won’t be able to do anything at all. We’ll come up with something. We always do.”

  Silence greets his words, and I can’t decide if it’s one of uneasiness or agreement. Either way, no one’s really satisfied.

  “Lai’s in charge of breakfast, right?” Erik asks without looking at anyone. “Be sure not to burn anything this time.”