Like me, not a fighter. We went in slow. The sentries were AWOL at the second checkpoint, too—downtown of the two rubble piles, where the walkway snaked east of the wide harbor of Astor Place and split, one leg turning west past Unca Joe toward the dry ridge of Broadway, the other continuing downtown. Around the turn, bright tongues of flame obscured the dark lower floors of our den, gilding its double-arched window casings and sturdy cornice lines, flaring on the scarred glass towers looming on either side of the Lagoon.

I panicked. “We’re on fire!”

“It’s just torches.”

But a lot of them, and people ganged up along the walkway crossing Unca Joe’s stone and brick façade.

Two of our war canoes were in the water, lanterns flickering in the bows, fully manned but paddling in indecisive circles in front of the building. The walkway by the main entry swayed faintly on its legs, packed with denfolk yelling down to the canoe crews, waving and shaking their fists like in an old video of a sports arena.

I surged forward, but Rubio grabbed my arm.

“Simmer down, Glim. That boat’s halfway to Inwood by now.”

I was sorry to have missed the excitement, now that it was over. “We scared them off!”

Rubio rolled his eyes. “Yeah, with our Jedi high-tech paddlers. Nah, more likely the fifty screaming-mimis at the top of the water gate got ’em laughing so hard, they had to leave or piss their pants.”

“It could’ve been Adders!”

He shook his head. “That boat was on a joyride. Show off, stir up green envy in the broken heart of Downtown.”

But I thought it was his own envy he meant. I was proud to see the canoe crews on duty, circling the Lagoon. “Have some respect, Rube! After the sentries and the enforcers, the crews are our next level of defense!” Which is how Rousseau always put it.

“Okay, I’m grateful.”

“No, you’re disgusting!”

The smell and flicker of the torches, their hiss in the slackening rain . . . it stirred up your adrenaline. I picked up speed. Sometimes Rubio just deserved to be left behind.

The outliers of the crowd raised a raucous welcome as we came along the walkway.

I spotted a girl I knew. “Louka! Qué tal?”

A wild grin lit the shadow beneath Louka’s cap brim. Pumped up, but I could see her fright was genuine. “Uptown bastards tryin’ ta sneak in through the water gate!”