“I’ll tell them that’s how dedicated I am.”
“Then I’ll tell them to ask why you don’t have the key.”
“And I’ll say it got lost in the struggle. Not that it would even matter since they’ll believe my story, not yours.”
“Maybe.” He shrugs, entirely unperturbed. “Or maybe they’d never look at you the same again. Especially once I describe, in painstaking detail, how you used the future to help me escape the tavern. I bet they’d love to learn all about your messed-up visions.”
“Fuck you, Ezzo.” I hate that he’s right and that he damn well knows it. I hate that if we’re caught together like this, the trackerswilltake the time to ask questions and then everything I’d tell them he’d contradict. I hate that I’m stuck and I’m stuck and I’m stuck with him. “If I ask the future where to hide, will you believe the answer?”
“Will you actually get an answer?” His lip curls with the jibe. “Or will it just show you the same thing it did Chase?”
My Gods, this Hue is annoying.
“Let’s find out,” I grit, though deep in my gut, I already suspect I will. There’s been a pattern to my visions since I became fate-touched, a trend to what questions the fates choose to ignore and what truths they choose to reveal—and he’s at the very heart of it. As long as we’re cuffed together, I’m confident they’ll allow me to see.
Where will we not be found by the trackers?
The moment I engage my magic, I’m rewarded with the vision we need.
“We’re going east,” I say, though why the future’s sending us deep into Meridian territory is beyond me.
Perhaps the trackers won’t think to look there.The Gray blurs to ash and twilight as I shimmer us through the streets, the shadows taking on a crueler, heavier feel as we enter the world of fanatic reform. Here, it’s not just the stench of iron that marks the buildings as hostile, it’s the sigil that’s been inked in blood on every door where his followers live. The sacred star, the Meridian calls it, an intricately pronged sun that appears to shine with a light from within.
The seal of a prophet.
Or at least, a man who claims divinity.
“What is this place?” Ezzo appraises our destination with open interest and wary feet.
“An old halfway house,” I tell him, wisping our way in. “The Meridians used to meet in vagrant spaces before their numbers grew large enough to commandeer their own church.”
“I’m sorry—the Meridians?”
“You’ve really not been paying attention, huh?” I’m kind of amazed at just how oblivious he is, how he managed to drink right past the biggest crisis in Sarotuza. “They’re a fringe religious group that broke with the sacraments—though I guess they’re not actually that fringe anymore; they’ve gained a lot more power over the past few years and tons of new followers. There are thousands of them now, I think. Maybe more.”
“And the Church isn’t trying to shut them down?” Ezzo asks, studying their brazen symbol.
“It’s trying, but their leader is popular and he’s doing the one thing the Church can’t while it’s still bound by the accords.”
“What’s that?”
“Killing Shades for sport.” I don’t miss the flash of satisfaction that flames in Ezzo’s eyes.
“Sucks to be hunted, doesn’t it?”
Nor do I bother dignifying his self-serving reply. “So, what’s your plan here, exactly?” I give the cuffs connecting us an angry tug. “Follow me around the city forever?”
“Not forever, no, just until I figure you out,” he says, smug as sunshine.
So forever, then. My teeth grind themselves brittle as we make our way through the house. “Shouldn’t you be more worried about your friends?” I drag him down to sit among the remnants of a ruined couch. “Or do you not care what happens to them?”
“They’re safer without me.” Where I sink into the tattered cushions, Ezzo sinks right to the floor, unable to control his physicality.
“Doesn’t that get annoying?” I had quite forgotten about the limitations of his hue.
“I’ve never known any different.” He offers me another shrug. “In the Gray, I wisp; it’s just what I do.”
“So then, how’s the cuff staying on?” I ask, rattling our wrists.
