Lore linked her arm with Caris, pulling her forward. Blaine was at their back as they slipped into the crowd, the sound around them almost deafening. Someone somewhere in the crowd had drums, and the occasional sound of a handheld horn ripped through the air. Protests against banking laws weren’t new, but this was the largest Caris remembered one being in recent memory.
She assumed it was because Eimarille was in residence at the palace. The protest was marching that way, and they got caught up in the flow of it. Caris stayed steady on her feet as Lore pushed their way forward and dragged her along.
They were a block away from the intersection that would take them down a side avenue where the Bureau of Patents was located when the roar of the crowd picked up. The steady beat of the chanting took on an edge of fierceness that made Caris glance nervously around her.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Blaine’s hand gripped her shoulder, and he pushed her at an angle through the crowd. “Peacekeepers are lining the sidewalks on both sides. I can’t see up front, but I’d bet they’re blocking the street in front of the palace. It’s going to turn into a kettling situation.”
“We can’t afford to get arrested. We need to get out of here,” Lore said.
“What do you think I’m trying to do?”
The crowd surged around them, the chanting taking on a defiant pitch. Caris nearly lost her balance, but Blaine kept her upright. He stayed close, a steady source of strength she knew—irrationally—would never leave her.
Westergards were always loyal. She knewthatfrom the history Meleri had taught her.
Someone let off another handheld horn from somewhere in the crowd up ahead, the noise a piercing sound that didn’t fade away. It grew louder, deeper, and it took Caris a few precious moments to realize it wasn’t a horn but a warning siren.
The crowd’s shouting faded in the wake of the sound, the fearful uncertainty an almost palpable thing in the air. The crackle of a speaker reached her ears, followed by a voice that sounded far too calm in that moment.
“Revenants in the civic center. All citizens to clear the area and shelter in place. All wardens within the city limits to lend aid.”
Blaine’s grip on her became bruising, and Lore’s was no better. Caris had no time to wonder what was happening as the two shoved their way to the edge of the crowd with a brutality that couldn’t stop the crushing surge of panic that ran through everyone around them. The chanting of the crowd turned into screams. The vaguely orderly march turned into a maelstrom of bodies all looking for a way out—one which the peacekeepers refused to allow.
Lore slammed against the side of a motor carriage and yanked Caris closer. The crowd made it difficult to breathe, but Caris climbed for the roof of the vehicle without needing to be told. Blaine had already made it on top of the hood, crouched there as he kept an eye on the people racing past them in the street.
Beyond them, at the intersection, Caris saw the peacekeepers had parked the paddy wagons close together to act as a barricade against the crowd. Flashes of magic from wands held by a few peacekeepers kept protesters from fleeing down the side streets.
As she watched, peacekeepers clambered on top of the paddy wagons, with one thrusting his fist into the air. “This is for the Clockwork Brigade!”
Lore cursed, eyes widening in horror. “We never sanctioned this.”
Caris knew they hadn’t, because the Clockwork Brigade was built on secrecy, not the horror the peacekeepers—if they really were peacekeepers—let loose. The backs of the paddy wagons all faced the boulevard with the protestors. The peacekeepers on the roof yanked the long metal rods up out of the locking mechanisms.
For a moment, the doors stayed shut.
Then they slammed open with a crack that sounded like a drum. Revenants burst free of the paddy wagons and ran into the crowd of protestors. Caris bit back a scream, unconsciously jerking backward at the sight of revenants.
Blaine yanked free his flare gun, pointed it at the sky, and set it off. The sound of it discharging echoed in her ears. Caris followed the path of the projectile into the sky. When it burst, purple-colored smoke erupted into the air, marking their location.
Blaine glanced back at them, a grimly determined look in his eyes as he reached for the pistol he’d taken from the Auclair estate. “We need to hold our ground here. Honovi will come for us.”
“Are youmad?” Lore shouted, pulling free a pistol holstered to the small of her back. “We’re about to be overrun by revenants!”
“What about my parents?” Caris asked, heart in her throat. “I can’t lose them, too.”
“We can’t get to them from here,” Blaine said.
She knew he was right, but that didn’t make it any easier not to throw herself off the motor carriage and try to make her way to them.
Blaine thumbed off the pistol’s safety and took aim at the closest revenant in the crowd. He managed a headshot, but the bullets weren’t spelled or poisoned, and the revenant’s body still staggered forward, lacking one eye and part of its skull. None of them had a machete or sword or studded baton to hack off heads or bludgeon them to nothing to keep the revenants down. A physical weapon was long-lasting where bullets were limited in use.
Caris remained crouched beside Lore, who held her pistol with both hands, grip steady despite the frantic look in her strange-colored eyes. Lore looked nothing like herself except for how she comported herself in the face of danger—ruthlessly determined to survive.
“Drop your weapons or we’ll shoot!”
The shouted order made Caris look over her shoulder at the pair of peacekeepers standing on top of the brick wall surrounding a nearby building. Rifles were pointed at Caris’ group while Blaine’s and Lore’s pistols were pointed at the revenants. Lowering their guard against the dead would ensure they’d be killed, but not doing so risked them being shot.
