If it weren’t for the pounding of hooves closing in on us, I’d be picking apart the story Asher told me earlier, trying to figure out which pieces were lies. The Loyalists are barely a click away now. They’ll be on us in no time.

“I’m sorry. I can explain everything. Just let us in, Saph. Please.”

“I should consult with the Prime first—”

“We don’t have time!” I erupt.

“Then he should have thought of that before—”

“I seek refuge from Kara the Prime,” Asher shouts. “I invoke the right to work for the Trinity!” He looks to me, eyes urgent. “Say it. Repeat those exact words.”

“I seek refuge from Kara the Prime,” I recite desperately. “I invoke the right to work for the Trinity.”

Saph turns away, and for a second I think we’re doomed. Then the doorway creaks. As soon as it is raised enough to squeeze beneath, Asher and I drop to the dirt and roll into the settlement. I get one final look at the wastes—the legs of an army of horses galloping into view—before Saph lets the door fall back in place.

III

Powder Town

Chapter Twenty-One

The hooves pound nearer, then slow as commands are shouted. Horses whinny and snort. The Loyalist army is gathered just beyond Powder Town’s wall, and we’re on the inside, sitting in the dirt just a stone’s throw from being captured.

Up in the watchtower, Saph is wiping dust off her goggles. “You have no business here,” she calls down to the army. I don’t know where she finds the strength to keep her voice steady. She’s lucky she hasn’t been shot dead.

“You have something that belongs to us,” a Loyalist responds, and I freeze. Reed. I can picture him sitting in the saddle, that ram-skull mask pulled over his eyes, Rune settled proudly on his shoulder. He never wanted to help me. All he cares about is finding the Verdant, and the things he said in the shanty that night—the clean water he provided—were just a means to break me. He thinks I truly know how to read the map, that I’m withholding. I must be shaking, because Asher puts an arm around me, pulling me nearer.

“People cannot be owned,” Saph snarls. “This is where our people and yours have always disagreed.”

“She has something that belongs to us,” Reed amends. “The General wants it back.”

“Then the General should request an audience with the Prime, not bring an army to our door.” A pause. “Does he request an audience?”

“He’s not with us,” Reed answers.

“Of course he’s not. He never leaves his stone fortress.”