“They’ll be here any minute; you better run,” the Loyalist says. It comes out as a threat, but his hands are shaking. I step closer and he steps back.

“Uh, Rue,” Bri yells. “Not a bomb, but still urgent.”

I glance at Bri, but the machine is no less activated than it was a moment ago. A light glows on its side and lasers shoot out its top.

“This thing has a homing device,” she says. “He’s not wrong. We have minutes to shut it down before it alerts their people that we’re here.”

We’d be outnumbered AF. Shit. The Loyalist is covered in sweat. “You better not touch me. O-or…”

“How long have you been working for the Chancellor?” I ask.

He slicks a hand over the branded L on his head.

“I’m not telling you anything.” He looks both ways, and I summon my magic. It crackles between my fingers. “Answer the question.”

I step toward him again and his eyes glow with fear. He backs up, bumping into Jhamal’s chest. He twists the Loyalist’s arms behind him and he howls. I grab him by the collar and take him back to the trap.

“Shut it off.”

He fidgets with the wires, but more lasers shoot from the device, scanning in every direction. Red light blinds me a second. Pinchers snap in my direction, but I move out of the way.

“Faster!” I shove him. His hands work over the device and it shudders a moment, then the red light goes off as it powers down.

I exhale.

“N-now let me go.”

“For a foot soldier for the Chancellor, you sure are scared.”

He chews his lip.

“What do we do with him?” Zora asks.

“He’s going to tell me what I want to know, then we’ll decide.” I reach for him and he holds his hands up, flinching, his sleeves rolling down. His wrists… I push up his sleeve. No onyx. Where there would be onyx is the X-shaped scar of someone never Bound, someone… magicless.

“You’re Macazi?” The magicless are in league with the Chancellor’s followers now? They’re murdering Macazi all over this City, they’ve treated them like shit for generations. Make it make sense.

I look to Bri and she shrugs. “No idea. I didn’t even know he’d amassed a following of Loyalists, let alone that he’d recruit Macazi.”

“I’m sure the Macazi would be shocked too,” I say, “to learn one of their own is playing both sides.”

The Loyalist’s eyes dart between us.

“Explain yourself,” I say.

“I’m not saying anything. I-if you’re going to kill me, so be it.” He folds his arms but he stinks of fear. Brave when it counts. It’s almost admirable.

“What were you going to do with that trap?”