“You don’t,” she said. “This is no accident. The commissioner is supplying the Shield’s soldiers with weapons and other tools. And with all those cuffs, they could kidnap literally thousands of othersiders—and the Shield could break them. No one would be safe. That is why I need you to stop.”

“Okay,” I said.

“I’m serious,” she said. “I won’t buy any more photographs from you. Not until all this blows over.”

“I get it,” I said. “Even if I see the perfect shot, I’ll skip it.” But I remembered what she’d said to me once: Forget getting the shot. Focus on the truth. That’s the hardest thing for a photographer to capture.

She stood, and came toward me. And I flinched, because who had ever seen Cass express any emotion other than an angry one? She chuckled, at my fear, and then she hugged me.

“Take care of yourself out there, Solomon. Even when we’re not looking for trouble, it has a way of finding us.”

After that, I wandered. Away from the eucalyptus-smelling canyon, into the denser disorderly streets. Bright lights in some windows; dark patches where the Blight had struck and turned the land foul.

I loved Cass, trusted and respected her—but I couldn’t stop. I was an addict, now. Hunting for the truth.

The world was full of monsters, and my camera wasn’t much of a weapon against them, but it was the only one that I had.

Maraud was still paddocked, down at the Underbridge. Which is why, when I heard the screams and followed them to the soccer field at the end of the alley in front of me, I couldn’t do a damned thing to stop what I found.

The cry was distinctive. Nothing else sounds like a snake hissing and a lion roaring and goat bleating all at once. It was a chimera, but this one was in greater distress than I’d ever heard. Huge three-headed fire-breathing monsters are usually the things that inspire fear, but this chimera was itself very much afraid.

Sure enough, I found it roaring; swinging its terrifying tail; belching fire in chaotic jets. Only when I got up close could I see what it was fighting.

Destroyers, soldiers of the Shield. A horde of them. They came in pairs, swinging chains, and alone, with torches and long, sharp weapons.

Trees burned all around the field. Two people were already sprawled motionless on the ground, but there were an awful lot more where they had come from.

An unarmed Destroyer walked out, waving his arms. Taunting it. The chimera charged—and another Destroyer swung a chain, which wrapped around the monster’s hind legs. Thrown off-balance, it came down in a heavy crash. The taunting Destroyer was firmly in its jaws, and it bit down hard.