She didn’t let go as we pushed through the crush of people. Our progress was terribly slow, and I had to fight my instinct to make way for others. There were too many people, and not nearly enough of us running in the same direction, but Gerel was a force: she didn’t hesitate to shove others aside and drag me along with her.

A third boom rattled the street, and a bright flare of fire lit the skyline ahead of us.

My heart kicked, and I tried to keep close to Gerel, but half the people who’d been running with us now turned and fled in the opposite direction.

“Mira, hurry!” Gerel was ahead of me, her fingers tight over mine. I pushed harder, trying to squeeze between a pair of burly men, and then—

My fingers slipped from Gerel’s.

One of the men shoved me aside, into another person. We tumbled, staggered, and by the time I looked up, Gerel was nowhere in sight—swallowed up by the chaos.

“Gerel!” My voice was lost under the cacophony of mass panic. “Gerel!”

As thousands of people grabbed and pushed around me, I scanned the tallest people nearby, but I couldn’t see her. She was gone.

The air soured with sweat, while dust and ash fell like mist. I coughed and gagged, catching myself as people plowed into me. I couldn’t stay here. I had to move. But Gerel . . .

I shouted her name again, but it was no use. The calamity was getting worse, and Gerel wouldn’t want me to waste time looking for her. She’d tell me to go straight to the hotel. She was probably halfway there already.

North. I searched for familiar landmarks and pushed through the throng, toward the Fire Rose Hotel. Gerel would be there when I arrived. She would be safe. Ilina and Hristo—who’d been wandering the markets looking for rumors about Nine—would be there already, too.

They had to be.

IT SEEMED LIKE ages that I fought my way north, block by block, pushing myself between terrified people. But eventually, the crowds thinned as others took side streets or ventured indoors. And, when no more explosions sounded, the mass panic began to ease.

Still, a bitter stench smothered the streets, and every crack or shout made me jump. Every flare of light felt sinister. Even the people skittering about the streets seemed filled up with potential danger. If only I had a knife. There were thousands of noorestones nearby, and I could use them to defend myself if necessary, but a knife would be obvious protection.

My heart pounded in my ears as I searched the flat-topped buildings for the Fire Rose Hotel. There. Two buildings down, gold flowers painted on the walls shone in the glow of streetlamps. I slowed to a walk, struggling to catch my breath in spite of the dust and smoke that hung in the air.

The double doors were solid bloodwood, bright with gilt vines growing up the polished surface. Extravagant, Gerel had called the hotel, but Captain Pentoba had warned us that less expensive places would be more of a risk, should anyone working there discover our identities. In Flamecrest, the wealthier innkeepers could afford to be loyal to their guests; they had far less incentive to talk to anyone about the people staying with them.