He clamps a hand over my mouth. Footsteps grow louder, and I tighten my grip on my weapon. She’s here. The clack clack of her feet drums faster, echoed by heavy breaths as if… Is she running? Jhamal’s and my quizzical stares match.

I spot her garment before her, a flutter of fabric denting my vision, and I reach between the bars to grab some piece of her. I snag the edge of her robe and yank her toward me. She grunts.

“Sssh,” I say. “I’m not gonna hurt—”

But when she faces me, her eyes bulge and a dagger tip bursts from her neck.

I yelp, holding her tighter as she goes limp.

“I-I—” she sputters. “I-I’m so-sorry. I-I didn’t know. She—” She lets out a gush of air with her last word and her weight doubles in my arms. Red flows like a river over her robes, soaking my arms.

“I—” Words are tar in my throat. This woman did nothing to me but feed me, greet me with a smile each day. I didn’t hurt her, but somehow her blood is on my hands. Like so many others’. Her glassy stare stills and I swear I see smoke plumes rising from Yiyo in them. I blink and hear screams. No… I bite my lip to stay in the present and turn, expecting to find Jhamal shocked, but instead his brows kiss as he reaches for the tip of the gold point protruding from the woman’s throat.

“This is—”

“Ghizoni gold.”

I don’t recognize the voice, but it’s brittle, with a smirk lurking behind each syllable. The girl who comes around the corner shoves a long weapon into a strap latched to her thigh. She’s tall with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and even broader hips. Gold armor covers all but her right shoulder, rippling off her like waves. Light from the floating orbs reflect like diamonds off her velvety brown skin. Her head’s shaved low on the sides, and a thick braid down the center of her head is wound up in a high bun. Jhamal looks like he’s seen a ghost.

“You don’t look happy to see me, coquella.”

“Brother?” Jhamal scoffs. “Friendly, are we now?”

She steps over the woman whom I’m struggling to keep up. I ease her to the ground and press her lids closed when this friend of Jhamal’s sticks out a hand.

“I’m Kai. I didn’t get to meet you before.”

“Rue.” I blink, half confused and half relieved to see the face of one of my people. Hope blossoms in my chest. For a second the air is thick with silence as we stand behind bars waiting for this Ghizoni warrior to let us out of this cage. She plucks a card-shaped key from the woman slumped on the ground and slips it into the cell door. The bars glow and clank open.