Exactly, I told her. And if they kick Kyle out for me… or kill him… I shuddered. Well, can’t you see how little sense that would make? He’s one of you.

We’ve got a life here, Wanda. You’re jeopardizing that.

It’s my life, too. And I’m… well, I’m me.

Melanie groaned in disgust.

“Wanda?” Ian demanded.

“Nothing,” I muttered.

“You’re a rotten liar. You know that, right?”

I kept my head down and breathed.

“What did he do?”

“Nothing,” I lied. Poorly.

Ian put his hand under my chin, pulled my face up. “Your nose is bleeding.” He twisted my head to the side. “And there’s more blood in your hair.”

“I—hit my head when the floor fell.”

“On both sides?”

I shrugged.

Ian glared at me for a long moment. The darkness of the tunnel muted the brilliance of his eyes.

“We should get Kyle to Doc—he really cracked his head when he went down.”

“Why are you protecting him? He tried to kill you.” It was a statement of fact, not a question. His expression slowly melted from anger to horror. He was imagining what we had been doing on that unstable shelf—I could see that in his eyes. When I did not answer, he spoke again in a whisper. “He was going to throw you in the river.…” A strange tremor shook his body.

Ian had one arm around Kyle—he’d collapsed that way and seemed too tired to move. Now he shoved his unconscious brother away roughly, sliding farther from him in disgust. He slid into me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. He pulled me close against his chest—I could feel his breath go in and out, still more ragged than normal.

It felt very strange.

“I should roll him right back in there and kick him over the edge myself.”

I shook my head frantically, making it throb in pain. “No.”

“Saves time. Jeb made the rules clear. You try to hurt someone here, there are penalties. There’ll be a tribunal.”

I tried to pull away from him, but he tightened his grip. It wasn’t frightening, not like the way Kyle had grabbed me. But it was upsetting—it threw me off balance. “No. You can’t do that, because no one broke the rules. The floor collapsed, that’s all.”

“Wanda —”

“He’s your brother.”

“He knew what he was doing. He’s my brother, yes, but he did what he did, and you are… you are… my friend.”

“He did nothing. He is human,” I whispered. “This is his place, not mine.”

“We’re not having this discussion again. Your definition of human is not the same as mine. To you, it means something… negative. To me, it’s a compliment—and by my definition, you are and he isn’t. Not after this.”