Sofia didn’t speak. Flor wasn’t looking for a response. She was simply ranting. And Sofia was more worried about the distant look in Chalia’s eyes as they approached. She prodded at the dragon’s mind, finding only silence there. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, trying to calm her beating heart.
“Chalia,” she said aloud. The dragon didn’t move.
“She’s asking me to help you.”
Sofia whirled, nearly stabbing Lumi as they appeared behind her. They stood there, unabashed in their nudity. Flor’s face went red, and she looked as if she were still planning on throwing a dagger through the shapeshifter if they made a wrong move.
“They killed your mom?” Lumi asked.
“The king’s men—” Sofia started.
“Not you,” they said sharply. They looked at Javi with piercing eyes.
He had gone a little pale, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. “They killed my blood-mother and four others who fought back too hard. The rest they arrested and tortured at the prison, but I didn’t even know who’d survived until later.” His voice cracked on the last words, and Sofia’s chest tightened.
“Do you think they took any of our people?”
Sofia heard the thread of hope in their voice.
Javi looked between Flor and Sofia. He hadn’t been in the prison; they had.
Flor had lowered her dagger, her shoulders answering Lumi’s question before her words. “We didn’t see anyone else there, but it’s always possible.”
Lumi’s nod was stiff, their teeth biting into their lip.
“Did you know you’d bring them?” Their eyes turned to daggers as they looked at Sofia, nostrils flaring.
Sofia opened her mouth, but then stopped.
“I didn’t, but I should have. I should have known they’d be out looking for—” she stumbled over the words, “for me. I’d say I regret putting you in danger, but your people are the reason Fox walked away that night. Your healer saved him from his injuries after the flood.”
“It was my fault, more than Sofia’s,”Chalia said.“I’m the one who was seen.”
“You couldn’t have known,”Sofia said to Chalia, repeating the words out loud. “You shouldn’t blame her.”
“I don’t,” Lumi said simply.
They stared at each of them in turn, and Sofia’s body was tense, waiting. She didn’t know what they were looking for.
“I’ll do it.”
CHAPTER FIVE
FOX
Despite being sent away on a leave, it took Fox another two days to get the courage up to seek out Ian—or Vato—or whatever he called himself now. After sun cycles of thinking of the man as his friend, finding out he was also a resistance spy had been more than a little shocking. He’d been avoiding speaking with the man since the prison break. It had been easy when he’d been working day and night, but he’d spent the last forty-eight hours wandering around the city, eyes sliding over the detritus that littered the streets, blood leaking out from some rubble piles.
Thanks to Fox’s screw up, the lockdown in the city had been extended until the king’s men could search every single Dragonborn house. He felt sick. They’d been locked away for over a week now, and the dead were rotting in the streets. The Dereyans had been slowly collecting their dead, but the others had simply been left. There would likely be a mass burning in the coming weeks and their bodies would disappear beneath the smoke and flames without names—their loved ones without closure. At least he’d gotten to bury his brother.
Leon. Ian’s best friend. Leon who the resistance had killed. Leon who was the reason Fox had spent so many sun cycles fighting against theresistance. And all the while, Ian was workingforthem. As if they hadn’t killed his best friend.
Fox kept his head down and his eyes focused on the street as he walked, his cloak pulled up to obscure his face. Now that he’d decided to confront Ian, he didn’t wish to wait any longer. He needed to inform him about what was happening in the lab and what he’d done with the girl—Dia. Ian would know how to get the information to Sofia. But he also needed to ask him abouteverything.
The commotion echoing through the empty streets told him when he was close to Ian’s unit. Fox turned the corner, his blank mask falling into place like a shield. The Dragonborn were lined up, about a dozen of them, as soldiers threw their belongings out onto the street with little care. They were emptying out three houses at once, their entire lives thrown into a single pile in the muddy, damp street. He could already see that they’d broken some of the chairs they’d thrown out and even food had joined the pile, meat and vegetables tossed onto the road with little care that it was all they’d have to eat for the next few weeks until rations returned or the markets were back up.
Three guards were screaming at one of the Dragonborn, a man—only a few sun cycles older than Fox. His face was pale and gaunt, but he continued to shake his head.
“Where’s your wife? I see her on the register, so where is she?”
