The door of the Dom had collapsed, charred wood sending plumes of smoke into the air that stung and watered her eyes; the same door she’d entered countless times, when she’d first arrived here with holes in her shoes and no hope left, after every job Kohl had ever given her that brought her closer to owning her own tradehouse, to when she finally walked into the Dom and took it as her own.
Her first, irrational thought was that this had to have been Kohl’s work. But as much as he wanted the Dom back, it might also be the only thing that man had ever loved. He would never attack it.
Only one person would dare. The realization hit her like a spark of flames searing through her veins, turning the shock and fear of the fire into ash, and leaving only fury in their place.
Bautix had set the Dom on fire.
13
As midnight approached, they reached the safe house, but Aina could barely remember the walk through the Stacks and into the tunnels under the city. Her vision was hazy, her thoughts sliding in and out of focus.
The Dom was gone. She’d lost her home again. She breathed in the still air of the tunnel, trying to make sense of what had happened. In all the years since Kohl had started the tradehouses, no one had dared attack the Dom—they knew it was full of trained killers, reputations honed through years of brutality.
So what did it mean that now, once Kohl was gone and she was in charge of it, someone finally dared to strike?
One day, you’re going to admit how much you need my help, Kohl’s voice echoed in her head.
“Aina, look at me.” Teo’s hands grabbed her shoulders, and she was jolted back to the present. His eyes were alight with fear, even with the fire far behind them. His forehead creased in concern as they stared at each other. “You’re all alive. You’re going to be okay. Kohl hasn’t won.”
“It wasn’t Kohl. Bautix attacked the Dom. That note he left, he promised to knock us down. The Jackals’ attacks have grown closer to us every day.” Then she swallowed hard, finding the bitter taste of ash on her tongue. “Kohl would never destroy the Dom.”
“He wouldn’t,” Tannis muttered in agreement. Aina had avoided looking at Tannis since they’d run from the fire—but now their eyes met, and she saw her own disappointment, the sense of failure, reflected there.
The whole group had slowed to a stop and huddled in the narrow tunnel. Aina’s gaze went to the rock walls, the shadowy crevices. The Inosen held worship services underground to be close to the Mothers, who lived in the earth—the mountains and caves of Sumerand, the tunnels burrowing under Kosín. Aina felt a brief chill in the darkness underground, but it was welcome after the fire.
Tannis stood next to Mirran, their faces gray and ashen. The three recruits had gathered in front of them, covered in soot and sweat—Kushik, Johana, and Markus. Johana held her arm gingerly away from her and Aina’s heart clenched at the angry red welt along her forearm. Ryuu, Raurie, and Lill stood at the front of the group, singe marks on their clothing and the scent of burned hair coming off them.
“The tradehouses are proof that people from the south can prosper without the help of the Steels,” Tannis added. “Bautix doesn’t want anyone to have that kind of hope unless he gives it to them.”
“That’s why he hates magic too,” Lill said, holding a flare that lit up her violet hair like they were in the fire all over again. “It’s power that he doesn’t have; it can’t be created with money or steel. He’s convinced he made the world safer by killing Verrain, and that every time we stand up for ourselves, it’s a threat. Anyone who wants to be seen as strong usually allies themselves with him, not against.” Something darkened in her eyes as she said this, but she didn’t elaborate.
“Then that means we still need to fight,” Raurie whispered, then looked at Aina and Tannis. “Don’t let this stop you; they expect you to give up now. But this is exactly the time to strike back, which means we’ll need somewhere to practice the Mothers’ magic. Somewhere all of us can learn the spells at once, without worrying the other Inosen will see and try to stop us.”
“What about in Amethyst Hill?” Lill suggested. “At Ryuu’s ridiculously large mansion with private security? I can’t think of a better place.”
“Sure,” Ryuu said, nearly stuttering over the word in surprise. “Come tomorrow—we can use the time to prepare for the shipment. I thought you wanted nothing to do with anyone who isn’t Inosen.”
Lill shifted uneasily. “I don’t know. You are now, I suppose, and you’re all proving yourselves to be … not completely terrible.”
Aina and Teo glanced at each other, eyebrows raised. “We are?” Teo asked.
Just then, whispers sounded from somewhere deeper in the tunnel, and they all went silent. Lill turned off her flare. Aina, Raurie, and Lill flattened themselves against the nearest shadowy wall and stopped breathing—an instinct Aina had honed by years hiding from patrolling Diamond Guards in these same tunnels with her parents.
“Wait,” Lill said, gesturing that they could step out into the dim light again. “I think that’s my dad.”
A moment later, torchlight rounded the corner, followed by two people; a middle-aged Kaiyanis man and an older Milana woman. The torchlight illuminated the black tattoo arced across both of their foreheads with three small diamond piercings.
“Urill and Sofía,” Raurie said with a sigh of relief as Lill stepped forward to hug her father, who must have been Urill. He had light skin, freckles, and gold eyes like Lill, even though he had the bright blue hair of Kaiyanis people while she didn’t; she must have been half Sumeranian.
“We came to look for you,” Sofía said, taking in the small group with trepidation in her eyes. Aina then recognized her as the same woman who’d healed her last month after the night at the Tower. “Are these your friends?”
Raurie nodded, then gestured at Urill and Sofía. “These are the two other Sacoren who live in our hideout. Sofía’s family and three other families are here too.”
“You’ve been gone for a long time,” Urill said, casting a disapproving look at his daughter. “You could have told us you were going to meet your friends.”
“That wasn’t what kept us,” Raurie said slowly. “Can they come in?”
Urill nodded, and then Sofía beckoned for the rest of them to follow her.
They proceeded down the long, dark tunnel until a wooden door in the crevice of a wall appeared; Aina would have missed it if Sofía hadn’t stopped then and inserted a key in a small hole at the top of the door. It swung inward without a sound. All of them kept quiet as they entered, and a hush greeted them.
When they turned a corner and entered a main room flooded with candlelight, there were several audible sighs of relief. Raurie’s aunt, June, waved them over and pulled Raurie into a hug when she got close enough. There were nearly twenty people, all huddled in small groups around low tables with meager supplies of food spread out—porridge, lentils, scattered nuts. Most of them cringed back from the newcomers, and Aina watched as one woman pushed a small child behind her, like she expected them to attack. For a moment, she imagined her parents among all the people here, trying to hide as death stalked them. But hiding had only gotten them killed.
“What took you so long?” asked Raurie’s uncle, who stood next to June. Then his gaze shifted to the rest of the group. “What happened to you all?”
Aina stepped to the front of the group, making sure her weapons were out of sight, and then said, “Bautix attacked the Dom. He sent the Jackals and some men he hired from Kaiyan to do it. If he did this to us, he won’t hesitate to do it to all of you—you need to be ready. This was a warm-up for him.”
Raurie spoke then, the words tumbling out as if she suddenly couldn’t hold them back anymore. “The magic of blood and earth would work to defend against any attacks. We should be prepared to use it.”
June’s mouth pressed into a thin line, weariness etched on her features. “If this is about learning King Verrain’s evil powers, you can
forget about it, Raurie. We will not resort to violence. That is what they do, not what the Mothers wish for us.”
“So what’s your plan?” Aina asked with a humorless laugh. “Sit here and wait to die?”
“He’s doing what he does best: stir conflict, make it look like there’s endless violence if he’s not in charge,” Tannis said. “He treats everyone in the south as his scapegoats, and that includes you. Raurie’s right—you should learn how to defend yourselves.”
Everyone in the safe house went quiet, looking apprehensively between Raurie and June as if they’d heard this argument before and didn’t want to get involved. But Aina’s anger only grew the longer the silence extended, because this kind of complacency was what allowed the Steels to win—like her focusing so much on hunting down Kohl made her miss that Bautix was still a threat.
“Well?” Aina prodded. “If he attacks—no, when—what will you do?”
“You can do whatever you want, Aina Solís, but violence does not come easily for all of us,” June said, her jaw trembling as she turned to Raurie, who nervously tugged at a loose strand of her skirt. Remembering how much Raurie had fought with her, Teo, and Ryuu last month to stop Bautix’s last plans, Aina wagered that June had no idea what her niece did with her free time. “Raurie, you’re going to get arrested if you try it. Your parents died for their choice to fight back, and I’m not going to let you follow them. The Mothers will provide for us.”
Aina snorted in disbelief and shook her head. That was exactly the kind of thing her parents had said before getting killed. It was exactly like how, as strong and skilled and prepared as she and all the people at the Dom were, it had still been attacked.
She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to close herself off from the world for a moment, but instead of darkness, all she saw were flames.
“Besides the fact that we believe our magic should only be used for peaceful reasons, what would it do?” Urill asked in a kind, placating tone. “You know it can’t contain fires.”
But Raurie had called up the earth to cut through the flaming tree. Maybe the magic couldn’t stop fires, but it could be useful in so many ways if they stopped being afraid of the consequences.
“You don’t trust me to use it in the right way,” Raurie said to her aunt in a harsh whisper. “Why don’t you trust me?”
June reached over and placed a weathered hand on top of Raurie’s trembling fist. “I’m trying to protect you, Raurie.”
As their conversation died out, the other Inosen began to set up places for the Dom’s employees to sleep. Mirran and Teo spoke to the recruits in a low, comforting tone, while Ryuu tried to convince the Sacoren that they would be safer in his house. His shoulders sank when they told him they would stay here—they couldn’t trust his neighbors or guards and they might get caught on the walk there.
Aina helped Tannis carry blankets from a corner to the Dom’s employees. Dark circles shadowed Tannis’s gold eyes, which seemed to have dulled, like the light was extinguished from them. “When Kohl recruited me for the Dom,” she said in a low voice to Aina, “I thought all my troubles were over. I thought I finally had a place to live that wouldn’t disappear, and I know you did too. But every time you think you can stop being afraid, they remind you not to get complacent. Kohl, Bautix, the Steels—they always find ways to prove us wrong.”
The truth of her words echoed painfully in Aina’s thoughts. When she’d first come to the Dom, she’d had nightmares every day about it all disappearing. As they passed the blankets to the recruits, she saw the hope had trickled out of their eyes. They’d already accepted that the nightmare was real. And that was what people like them always did—faced the harsh hand they were dealt and learned to survive in their circumstances. Reach for more but expect little. Save no room for dreams.
The only reason she’d had the dream to one day own a tradehouse, run the business, be a boss … was because Kohl had promised to let her. If he hadn’t believed in her, she would have stayed the same—fearful, unambitious, addicted to glue. She would be dead already, if she hadn’t had that hope pulling her along.
Her eyes trailed toward the door of the safe house, imagining the tunnel and the city above—and where Kohl might be now. If there was anyone who would feel the devastation she and Tannis did, it would be Kohl. Her heart clenched, and she wondered if he’d already heard about the fire.
If he had, he’d want to destroy Bautix as much as she did now. Fury rekindled in her, making her draw her shoulders back and lift her chin. Raurie was right: now was the time to strike back, not cower.
She turned to the Dom’s employees—Mirran, Kushik, Johana, and Markus. They all still looked dejected, broken … but she wouldn’t let them stay that way for long.
“We’re going to get our revenge for this,” she told them in a fierce voice. “When have we ever sat back and let the Steels do whatever they want to us? That’s not what the Dom is. Get some sleep tonight so you’re ready to work tomorrow.”
The recruits began seeking out spots on the floor to sleep as Raurie walked over, wringing her hands together. When Tannis turned to face her, Raurie whispered, “Thank you, for pulling me away from the fire back there. After using the magic, it was hard to focus.”
The tension in Tannis’s shoulders lessened as she said, “Well, I don’t want to give up either. Thank you for reminding me.”
As they spoke and helped the recruits set up places to sleep, Aina slipped out the main door and back into the tunnel.
But right when she was about to turn a corner at the end of the tunnel, footsteps sounded behind her and she paused to see Teo jogging toward her. Her heart sank a little—she would have to tell another lie, about where she was headed now. In silence, they exited the tunnels onto a street in the Stacks with rain pelting down. Mist rose above the dirt roads like smoke. She breathed it in, trying to get the clean air into her lungs.
“It’s probably too late for the rain to help,” she said, squinting through the mist and the deep night in the direction of the Dom, but it was too far to see from here.
“I thought I was going to lose you back there,” Teo said suddenly, his hands in his pockets. The mist settled on his dark waves of hair and golden-brown skin, the droplets sparkling like little diamonds. “At the fire.”
His mouth opened like he wanted to say something else, but he held back. After another beat of silence, she stepped toward him and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug.
“Thank you for calling out that warning to me,” she whispered into his ear, her head against his shoulder as she stared out at the misty streets. “I wouldn’t have seen that tree. I wouldn’t have moved back far enough, and Raurie’s spell wouldn’t have done much to save me.”
“Of course, Aina,” he replied, hugging her back, his breath warm on her face. “We have to look out for each other—no one else will. I’d never let you get hurt.”
“Me either,” she whispered back, and for a long minute they stood there under the awning of a building, letting the rain build up around them while everything within their circle of warmth remained calm. She’d need that calm for when she let go of him.
“You can all stay at my apartment too,” he whispered. “You don’t have to go underground.”
“I know,” she said. “Thank you, Teo. I’ll talk to Tannis about it and figure out our next steps.” Then she shook her head slowly. “All this time, I was so focused on Kohl. It’s pathetic, really, that he hurt me so much. What kind of leader am I supposed to be if I can’t focus on real threats? What if we got caught in this attack on the Dom because I was paying attention to Kohl instead of Bautix?”
“You’re not pathetic for that. Tannis and Mirran didn’t see it coming either. And you’re allowed to still feel hurt.”
She drew away slightly, looking out toward the rain-slicked streets ahead, but then he reached out to take her chin in his hand so she faced him.
“You’re belittling what he did to you, but I wa
s there. I saw how much it took out of you every time he would pull you in and then push you away again, how he kept you there with promises but never let you get too far. I saw you after he took all of your money and left you for dead. And I saw how, every single time, you went back. You’ve finally pulled away for good now. I don’t want to lose—” His voice lowered to a whisper when he next spoke, his brown eyes softening. “Don’t pretend it never happened, Aina.”
“I can’t forget it, Teo,” she said, pulling back so his hand fell to his side. “That’s impossible. But what I also can’t forget is that it made me weak, and being weak only gets you killed. It gets your house burned down and leaves you with nothing. You know that. And if feeling all that pain leaves me easy prey, like it did all those years I worked with him, then I don’t want it. All of those emotions, Kohl would never let them get in the way of his work. Tannis pushes them away too, and I’ll learn to. I can’t afford to feel that strongly.” She paused, letting their eyes meet briefly before saying, “For anyone.”
As the rain beat down and mist clouded around them, Teo said, “You’re not weak, Aina. And I haven’t given up on you.”
She swallowed hard, still tasting ash in her mouth. “You should.”
Turning away before he could stop her or ask where she was going, Aina disappeared into the cascading rain. Breathing it in deeply, she tried to banish the scent of smoke that seemed stuck to her now, in her nostrils, all over her hair and clothes, but it wouldn’t leave.
Descending the hills deeper into the Stacks, her boots sliding on the mud, Aina walked farther south. The mist rose higher here, thickening and casting everything in a faint silver glow. In dips in the road, the rain formed large puddles, and she could already see it seeping under doorways into homes. The summer rains always devastated the south, sweeping through in heavy deluges almost every evening for a month. Everything down here would be flooded by morning, and by then, everyone would know the Dom had been attacked.
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