Her chin falls. “Zora told us everything before…” She pulls me to her, bringing her blade down hard behind me. Someone grunts before collapsing on the ground. “Go. Do whatever is needed. The Yakanna stand with you, Jelani.” There’s a note of sadness in her voice, but thirst for vengeance burns behind each syllable.

“For Zora,” I say, setting a hand on her bare shoulder.

“For Zora.”

I plow through the masses, dodging, throwing blows. The Chancellor’s men are completely caught off guard without access to magic. My foot bumps a curved blade and I scoop it up. I look for the Beerchi who dropped it but spot none. Something shoves into me and I turn, blade up and ready. I swipe. The Loyalist sidesteps and I miss. I raise the handle again, bringing it down hard, and red splatters my shoes. He holds the place his nose just was, shrieking, and I move on to the next.

The ceiling door opens and light from outside pours in. A head peeps in, then he closes it. A blade dents my view; a lanky Patrolman hovers over me, a dagger clutched in his hand.

He’s armed. They know.

The clang of metal tears at my ears, and I realize several of the last Patrol to come through carry weapons of some sort. They’ve caught on. But how? No one that’s come in has made it back out. Unless…

Kai.

So that’s why she was down here a moment ago. To tip off the Chancellor.

I grit my teeth and my blood runs hot. Patrol swings and I duck, metal whooshing over my head. Light on my feet, I bob and weave between his blows. He swipes and I slide aside into someone or something and it shoves me back. He pivots, panting. I’m wearing him down. He charges at me once more, and I hook an arm around him, using his momentum to shove him to the ground. His head bobs. I snatch his weapon and pop him in the head with it.

I drag him to the other Patrol, who’s still out like a light. Two bodies, four beads of onyx. I need to get them out of this corridor and try to get this onyx out. I tug on both bodies, but it’s like trying to drag a sack of bricks. I finagle one into a side room and hurry back for the other, but he’s gone. Shit!

“I got it!!” Joshi shouts from somewhere, holding up a black ball.

“Toss it over here,” Julius shouts. The bloody ball of onyx flies from Joshi’s fingers through the air and Julius’s gadget cups it like a catcher’s mitt. A flicker of joy tugs at me but I bury it. It’s too early to assume the best.