“Or stay there and get yourselves caught,” August called back. “I really don’t care.”
Felix spared Marlow a quick glance, and she responded with a shrug. Whether August was lying or not, Felix couldn’t let him out of his sight. So they both hurried after him.
The streets of Haverglen were completely deserted now. The change had been so swift, Marlow had missed when it happened.
Warm lamplight through drawn curtains and the smoke from the chimneys were the only proof that she hadn’t imagined the flocks of residents earlier. She trailed a pace behind Felix and August, keeping her eyes peeled for any City Watch or ministry.
The buildings here were much shorter than the ones back in Bedwyck. Their dingy flat had been on the sixth floor. A pain to get to, especially for Felix. But it was cosy, and it was more space than Marlow had ever had before. The few items she’d accumulated were still there waiting for her.
She couldn’t help wondering what Felix’s plans were after all this. Once he finally put his nagging need for revenge to bed. She doubted he’d want to return to Bedwyck. But they couldn’t stay in Fallowmoor without spending the rest of their lives hiding.
The aesran would still want their heads. And Ashcroft was running the ministry now. He’d never stop hunting them. The man was good at holding a grudge.
The resistance was all but gone, and without a leader like Raesarinn, rebuilding it would be impossible.
Maybe once the tear was closed, she could convince Felix to leave Atheran. Jivante was kind to wielders, or so she’d heard. Nobody would know them there. She could get a decent job, and Felix could . . .
Who was she kidding? Felix wouldn’t leave Atheran. And she would never abandon family.
The town shifted around them as they walked. The cobblestone street had given way to a muddy path flanked by crumbling wooden houses. August stopped suddenly outside one that stood apart from the rest, its upper half leaning slightly to the right, as if sharing a secret. The door mirrored the tilt, hanging askew in its frame. Only half the windows still held glass panes, and heavy curtains blocked any view inside.
“What is this?” Felix asked.
“You wanted to find Gideon.” August gestured toward the door.
Where had he taken them? Could it be a trap? Was he really clever enough for that?
“I don’t trust you, Aesling,” said Felix.
“Don’t go in then,” August responded, sagging against the wall. “But I need to sit down, and I need a godsdamned meal. So decide fast.”
Felix’s eyes lit up gold, and he leveled them on August. “Answer me honestly. Is Gideon inside?”
August looked up, his expression vacant. “He is.”
“How did you find this place?”
“An anchored boy named Theo.”
The name knocked Marlow’s world off balance.
Theo was dead?
The gold faded as Felix met her gaze. Theo was dead. And he was stuck here as an anchored.
August blinked and startled upright. “Stop doing that, you absolute ass!”
Felix ignored him, scrubbing a hand over his mouth as he turned to face the rickety door.
A hundred different questions tangled in Marlow’s head, but only one made its way out. “Is he here now?”
The frown dissolved, and August nodded once, his eyes on the space beside her.
The guilt was like a boulder hanging from her neck. She should have gone with them when they left Bedwyck. If she and Felix had been here, maybe he’d still be alive.
“Can you tell him . . . ” The words caught in her throat. What could she even say to make any of this better? It wasn’t fair, and her apology wasn’t going to fix it.
August gave a resigned sigh. “He says you couldn’t have stopped it, even if you’d been here.” He was quiet a beat, then added, “And that you better not say something stupid like ‘I’m sorry’ because it’s not your fault.”
