A sudden whoosh of heat and crackle drowned me out. Damp grit and paper shards swirled around us as flickers of orange lit up a darker, swelling smoke cloud. Down the line, people were bellowing.

The pail clattered aside. Daniel grabbed my shoulders, spun me around with a shove. “Go! Get downtown and warn your den! Now! These guys don’t wait.”

I dug in my heels. If I left now, I’d be none the wiser, not even enough to excuse my going AWOL. “Rousseau knows. Bright was at Ladysmith’s just two days before BlackAdder torched them. Daniel, I’m here. Let me help!”

“Go home!”

I scooped up the pail. “Wasting time. Just tell me what to do!”

His growl of exasperation wasn’t quite a curse. “Desperate measures . . .” he muttered, and paced away, turning his back and pulling something from his pocket. Something like a mini cell phone. As I strained to see around him, he had a short argument with it, scowled at its tiny screen, then slid it back into his jeans.

I blinked as a gust blew hot ash into my eyes. “That works here?”

“Sometimes.” He looked caught. Did he think I wouldn’t know what a cell phone was? “Look, Glim, the mess down there is headed this way. I’m going to have to deal with it and I don’t need you getting in the way.”

A cell phone working as far south as the Souk. News to bring home, but maybe not to Rousseau. “You gonna pay up this time?”

“Hell, no. So it’s going to get nasty.”

“Then we gotta pack! Save your stuff!” I peered about for a cart, wagon, even a hand-truck hidden in the chaos.

“Glim, this is not your problem! Besides, the good stuff’s on the boat already.”

“But there’s still something you need or you’d be on the boat, too.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “You are really . . .”

A few stalls down, another shouting match erupted. Several deep voices, one higher. Glass shattered. Shots were fired and a woman screamed.

Guns? Now I was scared.

“You need to go.” Daniel reached for his phone again, not bothering to conceal it this time. He tapped a brief message and put it away, staring down the line. “That’ll be the old couple with the oil lamps. Frail and unarmed, of course. Damn. Damn!”

“Should we go help?”

He hooked my elbow as I turned that way. “I tried already. Ran around to recruit resistance, get a group to stand up to them. Everyone looked the other way, and those old folks were sure I meant to steal their stuff. It’s every man for himself up here!”

“So put me to work. Whatever it is you’re doing . . .”

“Do you ever listen to reason?”

“If the situation is reasonable . . .” Carried away with my own bravery.