I drew a deep breath, settling into the strange rightness of it. “You could settle near us,” I said, “if you’re looking for somewhere that isn’t ruled by the Purifiers. Leander—that is, my neighbor; you’ll meet him soon—he and I don’t let the nearby town tell us what to do, and together, we’re strong enough to hold them off. If you don’t mind staying in the countryside…”

I hadn’t even noticed all the others gathering around us as we talked.

“How deep in the countryside?” another man asked. “Could we start a farm there?”

“Ah…maybe?” I had no idea how anyone did such a thing; after growing up in Dad’s workshop with a bustling street outside, I was genuinely proud that I could—usually—identify farms from a distance, nowadays. “If you did, that would certainly make my life easier.” If we didn’t have to order all of our food through illicit means and therefore at such an inflated cost…

“I can make clocks anywhere I happen to live,” said Jasper. “I had to leave most of my things behind, though, so I’d need to find a good metalworker to supply me as I got my new business started…”

A smile spread across my face, despite everything else I’d felt and given up that evening. “That part shouldn’t be difficult at all.”

We emerged, half an hour later, in a neighborhood far from the barricade’s manned gates at Larimont’s north and south compass points. Hulking buildings lined this street, looming over us as we crept through the darkness but apparently deserted for the night. Still, the metal inside them tingled distractingly against my senses.

“What are those?” I whispered over Ruby’s head as I balanced her carefully against my shoulder, my satin skirts rustling far too noisily around me.

Jasper, walking beside me with all of their luggage, sighed. “The mills that paid for the barricade.” He pointed with his chin, as both of his hands were fully occupied. “The workers’ rowhouses all start on the other side of that road.”

“And their graveyard’s waiting just beyond the barricade.” The older woman behind me—a necromancer named Eliza with short-cropped grey curls, dark brown skin, and a fabulous, knee-length black jacket embroidered with glittering golden thread—gave a derisive snort, adjusting her ominously scaled crimson bag over her arm. “At least half of that fine, moralizing City Council made their fortunes off their workers’ graves—and now that they’ve got the City Guard in their pockets, anyone agitating for better conditions in those mills is going to get added to their lists right quick!”