“What can I do?” I asked Dotty. “Can they save him? Can they bring him back?”
“We won’t give up on Oscar until it is medically impossible to revive him. I’m sorry, Matilda, I don’t think he’s going to make it.”
“Abraham?” I asked, looking wildly for him.
“Abraham can’t die, no matter how badly he’s injured. But there has never been a House assassination,” she said. “Not in all the time since the Restructure. For two to happen in one day?” She shook her head and swallowed hard.
“What now?” I asked.
“I don’t know. If the allegations are proven true against Abraham, he will not be allowed to survive. His brain will be locked away in storage, his body dismantled.” She nodded, her lips white at the edges, her eyes wide with fear.
But her voice didn’t betray the horrors she was so matter-of-factly telling me. “The Houses will demand justice. I believe things will become very dark for the galvanized and for you. At the best, at the very best, you will be claimed by House Orange in payment for House Gray killing Slater Orange.
“There will be a testimony and trial, but the Houses err on the side of brutal punishment when it comes to the galvanized, and I am sure they will do so now. Even if Abraham is innocent, Helen is not. It is possible we will all bear their guilt.”
“Everyone? All the galvanized will be punished?”
“Our treaty with the mortals, our trust with the Houses, has been gravely damaged. Under no circumstances—none—are we allowed to injure a head of House. I don’t think anything will be the same again. Our world is gone. It is too late now. Too late for all of us.”
She gave me a sad smile, then turned to help the other galvanized with Oscar and Abraham.
The medical people pushed into the circle, hurrying over to Oscar with cases of equipment.
I had lost Oscar before really knowing him. I had lost Abraham and this new life that I might have learned to love. I wanted to fall on my knees and sob.
There was no time for that. But there was plenty of time to fight, to survive.
What resources did I have?
My strength, my brother in the stands, and the scarf around my shoulders.
It wasn’t much.
It would have to do.
I unpinned the scarf, my fingers fumbling through the clasp as more medical people slipped through the ring of House Black around us. Finally got the clasp free. I quickly unknotted the end of the yarn and pulled. The yarn ticked as it slipped free of each knotted stitch.
Time slowed, stopped.
My heart was beating the same, well, faster now since I was facing a future of pain and punishment and might, by these decisions, be sealing my grandmother and brother’s death.
People around me froze in place.
Even the slight breeze and sounds ground down to a halt. Except for me.
I pulled the stitches as slowly as possible as I walked over to Abraham. I bent and deadlifted him into a fireman’s carry. I pulled yarn while I hurried out of the stadium. I set him down outside. I only had two feet of scarf left.
“I’ll be right back.” I ran into the stadium, then up the stairs, only pulling on the yarn when I thought I saw someone move. I needed time. Much more than I had.
Quinten was easy to pull away from the two men who guarded him, lift, and carry outside. By the time I made it clear of the stadium and around the corner to where I’d left Abraham, the scarf was gone.
The world suddenly snapped back into motion. The earth shook beneath me as if a giant had struck it with his fist and the sky cracked with thunder and copper lightning.
I stumbled. Fell onto my knees with Quinten, the smells, sounds, and motion slamming into me all at once, overwhelming and painful.
“Matilda?” Quinten said, startled. It took him half a second to grasp the situation: me on my knees, him on the ground next to Abraham, who wasn’t moving.
“We have to get out of here,” I said. “Can you walk?”
