Surely it was the kitchens. Something cooking over an open flame. Ezra had smelled the fire in Cascade before us. He was overly sensitive.
“No, I don’t smell anything but river water,” I said—at the exact moment alarms sounded. It was the piercing, constant bell that alerted everyone in the House of Industry that they needed to evacuate immediately. I blew out a breath I’d held for too long. “This is either helpful or very, very bad.”
Even deep in the stairwell, the bells rang out shrilly, disturbing the Generators. Many held their hands over their ears, grimacing. “It’s a false alarm!” I shouted over the sound. “Don’t be afraid. Keep walking!”
We were so close. They couldn’t give up now.
Ezra passed me, wobbling with the effort of carrying Julian. “It’s definitely not a false alarm,” he muttered.
One by one, we poured out into the storeroom. It smelled strongly of smoke, but the air was clear. “This way,” I said, clapping my hands todraw attention. “One more flight. These stairs are nice and easy. And then we’ll be in the front hall. So close! Won’t it be lovely to see the sun?”
Moving painfully slowly, we climbed the wider set of stairs that led to the front of the House. All we had to do was cross the expansive great hall. Then we’d be at the huge double doors at the entrance.
At the top of the stairs, we emerged into chaos. Smoke billowed from the wing that held all the House’s classrooms. People were running—professors ushering groups of children and older students out the front doors, servants carrying the youngest. I’d never imagined such disorder in the House of Industry. I wanted, so desperately, for Julian to see this, to understand what he was seeing. But he had his face tucked against Ezra’s neck.
“Head for those big doors,” I told the Generator in line behind the little boy. He was balding and very thin, with sallow skin and the sorts of sores people got when they were malnourished. “Those doors there. See? Keep going, and soon you can use your radiance again.”
He didn’t nod, but something like understanding dawned in his eyes as he set his sights on the exit. Another little spark of hope fluttered against my ribs, only to be squashed by the sound of a pistol shot. The wood paneling beside me shattered, a thick splinter burying itself in my upper arm.
In an instant, disorder escalated to a sea of mindless panic. The high-ceilinged great hall filled with echoing screams. Only the Generators continued walking with slow determination. I wanted to sink through the floor and disappear, anything to avoid another crush of a fleeing crowd. But I couldn’t stop now, not when we were this close.
Transistors didn’t use pistols. Looking around wildly, I searched for whoever had fired on us. It was a guard in plain clothes. There was no time to wonder why the House had allowed hired guards onto the premises, into a place that had always been considered sacred. With little more than an impulse, I struck the guard dead with a sharp bolt ofradiance. “Stand down,” I screamed as more ruffians poured in from the outside, running toward us with weapons. “Stand down or die!”
Ezra had drawn Nikola’s pistol from his pocket, but he was unsteady, struggling to coax Julian to stand on his own two feet. A bolt of radiance stuck a column beside him, and he stumbled, trying to get Julian to duck.
Enraged, I sought the source of the attack and found two Transistors stalking toward us, seeming heedless of the state of the others around them. I struck the carpet at their feet with a warning bolt of radiance, causing them to stop short, looking surprised. “These are Generators,” I shouted. “Innocents! We’re helping them evacuate from the fire.”
The Transistors, a young man and a middle-aged woman, hesitated, looking conflicted. As they stood in place, students and professors ran by to escape the burning House. In the distance, Professor Dunn was using a chair to prop the doors open—letting sunlight stream in like a promise. She shouted and gestured urgently, showing the Generators the way out.
Seeing that the Transistors weren’t attacking us, one of the hired guards smirked and raised a pistol to the woman’s head. Before I could scream a warning, he pulled the trigger.
Time slowed to a trickle. The side of her skull opened like a flower blooming before she fell to the ground in a heap.
The guard took aim at the other Transistor, but the young man grabbed him by the wrist and used his other hand to fill him with a shocking amount of radiance. This time, I knew to look away. I knew exactly what that much power would do to someone’s eyes.
“You don’t matter to the House!” I yelled, trying to spot more attackers in the rush. “They’re using you. Just like the Conductors. Just like the Generators.” Something searing hot grazed my hip, and I tripped back, nearly falling into the shuffling line of Generators making their way toward Professor Dunn.
The young Transistor killed another guard effortlessly and then stared at me. “Who are you?” he asked.
“It doesn’t matter!” I shouted. “Help get the Generators out. You see him, there? That’s Julian Gray. The Elders tortured him for speaking the truth.”
He looked at Julian and Ezra, and ahead to the little boy leading the line, and then he ran to the child and scooped him onto his hip. Taking the following Generator by the hand, he headed for the open doors where Professor Dunn beckoned.
There was no time to celebrate that small win.
Even if the Transistors came to our side, the hired guards wouldn’t. What loyalty could they possibly have to Children of Industry? Like Ainsley’s men, they were motivated by the opportunity to do violence for pay. Determined to defend the Generators, I jumped onto a decorative table, kicking a vase full of lilies out of the way. There, I had a better vantage point to spot attackers.
I didn’t hesitate. One guard after another fell, flesh smoking. And I wasn’t the only one firing radiance at them. The Transistor carrying the young Generator cleared a path, cutting down guards in his way.
The smoke was getting thicker.
Something grabbed at my ankle, and I kicked at it until I heard a suspiciously small yelp and looked down to see Harriet and Isla. Horrified, I jumped down and pushed them under the table. “What are you doing?” I asked breathlessly. “You could be shot! Where is the rest of your class?”
“Right here,” Gertrude said sharply, suddenly at my elbow. “Crawl, girls. Single-file line. Scurry now, right out the door. See Professor Dunn? Go, go!”
“What happened while we were down there?” I asked, trying to shield Gertude with my body as more shots sounded. It was difficult. She’d always been much taller than me.
“Your little acolytes set the House on fire is what happened,” Gertude said, sounding more exhilarated than concerned. “I believe they called it adiversion.”
