No, it was never my fault, but somehow I always got blamed, and upon reaching the blockade, I dug in my bag for my ID. Ivy had already flashed hers, and after comparing the picture to my face, the two officers let me past. Jenks was hovering over Edden like a tiny spotlight, and I limped a little faster. There were definite advantages to being a noncitizen, but only if you were four inches tall.

Captain Edden had put on a few pounds since taking over the Inderland Relations division after his son had quit. His ex-military build made the stress weight look solid, not fat, and I smiled as he squinted at me from under his FIB cap, his eyes showing a heavy relief that I was no longer out cold on the pavement. Standing beside an open car door, he finished giving two officers direction before turning to us.

“Rachel!” he exclaimed, thick hand finding my shoulder briefly in a heartfelt squeeze. “Thank God you’re okay. That wasn’t you, was it? Trying to stop something worse, maybe? You would not believe my day. The I.S. is so busy with misfired charms that they don’t even care we’re out here.”

“Wasn’t me this time,” I said as we came to a halt in an open patch of concrete. “And why is everything automatically my fault?”

The bear of a man gave me a sideways hug, filling me with the scent of coffee and aftershave. “Because you’re usually mixed up in it somewhere.” His tone was pleased, but I could see the stress. “I wish it had been you,” he said, his eyes flicking to include Ivy and Jenks as he put an arm over my shoulder and moved us away from the news vans. “The I.S. is giving me some bull about it having been a cascading inertia dampening charm.”

Jenks rose up, but I interrupted him, saying, “It was an inertia charm, but it was one charm, not a bunch of them acting in concert. It came from about three cars ahead of mine. Probably the black convertible the kid was driving.” I hesitated. “Is he okay?” Edden nodded, and I added, “Nothing came from my car. If it had, I wouldn’t have been able to get out of it.”

Edden chewed on his lower lip, clearly not having thought it through that far. The I.S. would have, though. Ivy looked tense, and I was glad I had friends who’d sit with me on the hard road and protect me from helpful mistakes. A guy with an armful of bottled water went past, and I eyed it thirstily.

“If anyone would bother to look,” I said softly, voice edging into accusation, “they could see my safety charm hasn’t been triggered. It’s probably another misfired charm. Have you listened to the news today? No one’s brain dissolved. We got off easy.”