“Do you need help with your shoes?” I asked.
“I’ve got them.” His voice was rough, from pain or cold or something else, I couldn’t tell. “Get your things.”
I scooped up my SED and the pistol I’d stolen and followed Sam through the darkness, keeping hold of his shoulder. How soon before someone found Mat in Sam’s washroom?
Was he dead? Had Sam killed him?
My thoughts spun as we crept through the trees. Our shoes made more noise than bare feet, but the risk of stepping on something was too great. Already, my body ached with chill.
Light shone beyond the trees, a pale and fractured glow. We’d reached Stef’s house.
“Wait,” I hissed, and squeezed Sam’s shoulder. His profile flashed against the light as he turned his head. “What if they sent someone to watch her?”
“Ah.” He retreated into the trees and knelt, then fumbled with his SED. “I can’t—It will take me too long to type a message with my hand like this.”
“I’ll do it.” I sank to the ground, shivering in my thin nightgown, and sent a quick message to Stef.
Mat attacked us. Deborl and Merton have escaped prison. We’re outside your house, but afraid it’s being watched. Call Lidea and Geral. Warn them. Meet us in the library with other trusted friends. Please bring us clothes.
Sam read the message over my shoulder. “The library?”
“Even if they look for us there, we’ll be able to hide. Plus, I think there’s something I need to say to all our friends.”
“Will you tell me what it is now, or do I have to wait?”
I lifted my eyes as a light flickered on upstairs in Stef’s house. “If Janan is responsible for the earthquake and eruptions, it will only get worse. They deserve to know, and a chance to get away while there’s still time.”
Sam caressed my shoulder, my spine. “Good. They deserve to know.” He went rigid as a shadow moved across Stef’s yard. “Stay here.” He grabbed the laser pistol and crept away. A second later, blue light flashed and the shadow crumpled. Dead or not, the person didn’t move as Sam darted across the yard and seized something—a second laser pistol.
I sent another message to Stef, updating her. She wrote back immediately.
Go to the library. I have a plan.
After a quick acknowledgment, I doused the light on my SED. Sam was back.
“Is he dead?” I asked. But maybe I didn’t want to know.
He just handed me the second pistol.
“Let’s go.” I didn’t have a waistband or pocket to hold my SED and the pistol, so they stayed in my hands.
“Okay.” Sam looked up, not at Stef’s house, but at the blaze toward the center of the city: the temple shone like a torch. “We can’t go any of my normal ways. If Deborl has anyone on patrol, they’ll be watching for us. Surely Mat was supposed to check in by now.”
“I agree. So we creep through the trees in the dark?”
He frowned as he hefted his pistol. “We don’t have much choice. Are you ready?”
I stood and linked my arm with his. “I’d go anywhere with you, Dossam.”
3
WORLDS
WE REACHED THE market field an hour later. Sam hadn’t wanted to go in a straight line from our house to the center of Heart, thinking that was a good way to get caught, so we sneaked around in the cold, doubling back on our path a couple of times before we finally reached the wide expanse of cobblestone at the middle of the city. Debris from the earthquake and eruptions littered the ground. Cobblestones had buckled and broken.
The four main avenues probably didn’t look much better, but Sam hadn’t been willing to use them—or even get near them until we had no choice. Hopefully the roads weren’t completely destroyed; we had to leave Heart soon.
I still couldn’t believe I’d been exiled. By all accounts, that was a death sentence. The world beyond Range was incredibly dangerous, filled with all kinds of creatures.
Though maybe Heart was just as dangerous now.
The temple flooded the market field with brilliant light. How many souls did it take to make the temple that bright? At least a hundred million.
Next to the temple, fused with it in some places, the Councilhouse stood immense and regal. Janan had built the Councilhouse before everyone arrived in Heart, as he had all the houses, but the columns and relief, which stood in shadow now, had been added later. I could just see the statues around the market field, all pockmarked from battles and age. The field was empty, but in the mornings and afternoons, it bustled with groups of friends, opportunistic sellers, and people simply wanting the sound of other voices. Once a month, colorful tents filled the space for the market; it was one of my favorite times, though newsoul-haters made it hard for me to do any shopping on my own.