Still, I couldn’t get it out of my mind—that spark when she put her hands on my chest like that. I ran my hand over the soft woven coverlet thoughtfully. I’d never felt like that before—except with one other person.

This was ridiculous. Nadin was my friend.

But Tamara had been my friend, too. That’s how it always worked for me. Normally I didn’t even think about it, but at times like this it felt like a torquing curse.

“Hey, Isaak,” Dad said suddenly from across the room. I looked over at him warily, dreading what he was going to say now.

But I didn’t get a chance to find out. Just then, the door to the guesthouse swung open, and Eos entered, carrying a lantern.

“Sorry to disturb you,” he said. “We just found out that we’ve got a few new refugees joining us tonight, so they’ll be staying here with you and your father.” He ushered in two people, a man and a woman, who looked strangely familiar to me. It took me a moment before I recognized them—the couple who had been playing ulama in the plaza last week.

“This is Corin,” Eos said, gesturing to the woman, “and Gios.”

I grinned. “I saw you two before, in Hope Renewed. How did you get away from the Enforcers?”

“One of our best runners was with them. We weren’t about to abandon them,” said Eos. “And we’ve developed… certain techniques over the years. Enforcers usually can’t hold our people for long.”

“It’s easy to trick a mind that’s reliant on the System?” I said. Eos tugged his earlobe.

Dad broke in, “Mind telling me what’s going on here?” He was glaring at Gios and Corin, who stared back at him in confusion. I rolled my eyes, and was about to start translating when Eos cleared his throat.

“There’s one other thing, Isaak.”

My eyebrow arched, and Eos pushed the door open wider—revealing a man with a shock of white hair and a crooked, hawkish nose standing just behind him.

“I think we’re going to need your help again.”

Chapter 32

“Ceilos,” I said once Isaak and Gitrin had gone. My breath hitched in my throat. “I don’t understand… what are you doing here?”

He turned his hands out. “I’d like to know that myself.” He came closer to me, and I could see through the shadows that his face looked haggard. I thought I could see the fading remnants of a bruise along the edge of his jawline.

My hands curled into fists. “Who did this to you?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see much of him. He kept me blindfolded.”

“The man who called himself the Liberator?”