Some refugees are trying to head to the open plains beyond the Outer City, only to run headlong into approaching Federation troops. The enemy is marching in from all angles now, a line of red along the horizon growing steadily closer. Other refugees clutch their children and belongings and stream toward the back of the Inner City walls. They know that there are escape tunnels installed underground. If the nobles are fleeing through there, then they might have a chance too.
I want to tell them all to turn back. Even if they made it there, Maran soldiers wouldn’t let them in, not without letting the Inner City’s residents go first.
But there’s nowhere else for the refugees to go. So I try to ignore their terrified faces and keep running in the direction of my mother’s house.
As I reach her street, I see a couple of her neighbors still frantically grabbing their belongings. Nana Yagerri is one of them. She drops the pans she’s holding and then runs up to me, waving her arms.
“Talin!” she signs as she reaches me. Her figure is bent double, and she’s wincing from her sprint. Her gnarled hands clasp mine in a trembling grip before her fingers move wildly. “Your mother isn’t here. She’s already left. She wanted me to go with her, but I couldn’t leave all this—” She pauses to look at the humble shack that she’s poured so much love into maintaining.
My mother already left? I put both hands firmly on Nana Yagerri’s shoulders and squeeze them once. “Where?” I sign.
“She ran toward the walls,” she signs in response. Another explosion rocks the ground somewhere in the shanties behind us, and she lets out a startled cry. “They’re setting everything on fire, Talin! What will we do!—”
She’s going to die out here, with her few pots and pans and precious belongings. I take her hands in mine and start pulling her away from her house.
She resists at first. “Talin, my things!—” she starts to wail.
I shake my head sternly at her, then hoist her up onto my back. There’s no time for any of this. With her still crying, I push away and hurry along with her toward an area of the Outer City that still hasn’t been burned yet.
Is that where my mother might be too?
A patrol of Federation soldiers appears at the end of the street. I see them tossing torches on the roofs and shooting anyone nearby who isn’t clad in Karensan scarlet.
I dart sideways into an alley, but not before one of them sees me. He whistles loudly—I hear their voices as they shout something to one another.
He’s calling for a Ghost. I don’t bother to wait.
As I dart off with Nana Yagerri clinging to my back, I hear the unmistakable shriek of a Ghost round the corner behind us. Its voice changes pitch when it sees our fleeing figures, and I hear the click of its claws as it starts to chase us. Nana Yagerri screams at the sight.
I won’t be able to outrun it. So instead, I skid to a halt, ease the old woman off my back, and turn around to face the Ghost. My eyes narrow—I draw a long blade in one hand and my gun in the other. The Ghost snarls as it lurches toward me. Someone has stabbed clean through one of its eyes, leaving nothing but a ruined socket and blood dripping down the side of its face. Shreds of blue fabric hang from its fangs.
I lift an arm to rest my gun against, then aim straight at the creature’s neck cuff. I fire three times in rapid succession.
They all strike true—once, twice, thrice. The cuff shatters, leaving its neck exposed. I shoot again, but the Ghost darts away from my line of fire and breaks into a low, jolting sprint.
I push Nana Yagerri out of the way and crouch. My muscles tense. The Ghost draws frighteningly close.
At the last instant, I break into a run, aiming headlong at it. Its mouth opens wide—it lunges at me. I leap up and kick off exactly against its open jaw, then twist in midair. I land squarely on its upper back, then whirl around and wrap my arm tightly around its neck.
It lets out a bloodcurdling scream, then thrashes in an attempt to throw me off.
No time—I have to move fast. Already my grip is slipping. I bring my drawn sword down hard on the back of its neck, burying the weapon so deep in its throat that the blade comes out the other side. Somewhere from the alleys, Nana Yagerri screams.
I still haven’t severed the Ghost’s main artery, though. The creature twists around in fury and tries to claw me off its back. I duck, avoiding its poisonous nails, then yank out a dagger and saw it across its throat as hard as I can.
The skin breaks with a sickening rip, and then I feel the blade cut the vein. Blood gushes in a torrent onto the ground.
The Ghost lets out a hoarse, choked cry, stumbles, and collapses. I leap off its back and land nimbly beside it. I don’t bother watching it in its death throes—I instantly run toward where Nana Yagerri’s voice had come from.
When I turn the corner, I freeze. She’s struggling against the grip of two Karensan soldiers who have already found her. One of them hitsher hard across the face. She cries out, blood on her mouth, and stumbles backward. Her eyes meet mine in panic.
I have no time to stop them. Even as I lift my gun, the other soldier is already slashing out with his sword. He shoves the blade through the old woman’s back. It cuts through her fragile body as easily as a needle.
Nana Yagerri’s eyes go wide. She collapses forward as the soldier shakes her off his sword.
And all I can think of is the night I’d run with my mother, trying to ignore the sounds of others getting cut down behind us by Federation troops. All I can remember is my mother lying on the ground, weeping and holding my hand, telling me everything was going to be okay even as she dripped blood along the ground.
I’m attacking before I even realize it. My gun swings up at the first soldier—I shoot him straight between his ribs. He grunts and falls. As for the soldier who’d killed Nana Yagerri, I grab him by his hair before he can even think to swing his sword at me. I yank his head back, then cut him as I just cut the Ghost.
