“If I have to. I guess I hoped that doing good on this mission would give me some credit with the Judge, maybe enough to get Sascha out, even if it means I have to stay.” He gave me a sheepish look. “That probably sounds dumb to you.”

“Not at all. It makes total sense.” I spoke past the lump in my throat. “Let’s get this done so that you can find him again.”

His flickering smile whispered his gratitude. He tugged his ski mask down over his face, tucked the crossbow against his body, and pulled the blanket around him like a cape. “You can rest. I won’t be far.”

I tucked the smelly sleeping bag around me, leaving it unzipped in case I needed to get out in a hurry. I switched off the flashlight and lay there in the dark, thinking about Henry. His situation reminded me of Ana and Takeshi, who had dared to fall in love in the dark city, and who had been separated tragically when Takeshi had been possessed by a Mazikin. Hopefully, Ana was in the Countryside now, and they’d found each other again, but I knew well enough now that giving one’s heart to another Guard was just asking to have it crushed.

To get my mind back on track, I practiced drawing the knives from their sheaths and striking at an invisible attacker. This afternoon, I hadn’t been wearing gloves, so it took me awhile to get used to the feel of my fingers being thicker and less sensitive, protected but not as nimble. As I worked, I couldn’t help the little spark of pride as I thought about what I’d learned, and how fast I’d learned it.

I rolled over, wincing at the feel of gravel through our thin, moldy pad, still fingering the handles of the knives holstered against my body. I flinched at a distant sound, sudden and high. A shout? Or was that just more traffic noise? Before I figured it out, a hooting laugh only a few feet from the tent brought me out of the sleeping bag. I crouched low in the inky darkness, sniffing at the air, straining to hear anything but the white noise of traffic. A few seconds later, I heard it again.

And then someone screamed.

Suddenly, the camp was full of screeches and clangs and heavy thuds and ripping fabric. I shot out of the tent and into the night, knife in one hand and flashlight in the other, and was immediately tackled by a hissing ball of rags reeking of incense. I hit the ground, rolled, and kicked the thing toward the water. I shoved myself to my feet. The camp was a battleground, sheer chaos. Someone was shouting to call 911. Someone else was sobbing. I couldn’t tell what the hell was going on because it was all bobbing flashlights and running, screaming people.