“What I mean is, Loyalists see this and without question no one checks my wrists. They assume I’m one of them, a former Patrol or someone in his camp. The Chancellor isn’t recruiting Macazi. He hates us. This is part of my disguise to infiltrate them on the Macazis’ behalf. I’ve been making the Loyalists think I’m one of them but feeding that intel to my people.” He smirks. “We’re not some band of vagrants. We are well organized. I’ve been studying how to fly under the radar my whole life.”

“So why didn’t you…”

“Say something? I didn’t know you were trustworthy. We hear things, you know? With Loyalists, I’ve heard all sorts of things about you. How you’re a plague on our island and it’s the Chancellor’s calling from the gods to root you out. How you’re cruel and stupid. How your presence will put everyone at risk of a resurgence in the Sickness.”

My mouth falls open.

“You’d be surprised at the stuff he feeds his following and they just eat it up. Either way, I wanted to size you up for myself.”

I stand taller. “I see. Well, how do I know what you’re saying is true, now? You’re clearly good at getting others to trust you.”

“Look, I don’t want anything from you. Matter of fact, I knew that was a trap we were walking into. I was waiting for you to forget about me, a chance to get away. But you made a point to ensure I got through okay, and even told her to make sure of it. I’m coming clean so you know I don’t wish you any harm. The Loyalists trust me. They drop traps and I arm them. Then I feed that information to my people so they know what places to avoid. I had to activate the trap in the alley, you see? They’d have gotten suspicious if they didn’t see it activated on their end.” He shoves his bangs out of his face, and I can better see the scar on his head. It’s puckered and red, like hot iron seared it to his flesh. If that’s not commitment to going undercover, I don’t know what is.

“Look, I’ve got this whole area mapped. This is my section. I can show you where all the traps are if you have a map?”

Jhamal shifts on his feet. Zora and Bri both leer at me. Uhhh. Trust him?

“Well…?” I ask the others. Everyone should have a say in this.

“I mean, I do have a map,” Bri says, pulling out a folded sheet of paper.

“I guess it cannot hurt,” Zora says.

“It’s a consensus, then.” Well, almost. Jhamal has said nothing.