Gerel and I kept close to Chenda, letting her shadows darken around us. Having Aaru’s silence would have been useful, too, but this wasn’t the time to ask him to use the gift of his god.

I didn’t even know if he could anymore.

Worries haunted me as we made our way through the dark, dust-choked city. I had never seen it so deserted. During the day, even with the horror of the Great Abandonment sitting on the horizon, the narrow, twisty streets were always filled with a steady roar of voices, punctuated by occasional shrieks of laughter or outrage. On corners, people usually begged for spare coins, but everything was empty now. Even the heavy carts that were pressed up to the sides of buildings had no merchants standing there, no one calling out for buyers seeking silks or honey or spiced cloudfish. There was no clatter of horsecarres, no tolling bells, no shouts of police struggling to create orderly traffic.

The quiet was eerie. Uncomfortable. Unbearable, so soon after disaster. That was why people had gathered together after Idris rose up from his seabed, rattling the bones of the earth and causing the western horizon to darken with a silent promise: worse would come; the Great Abandonment was upon us.

People had needed community. Companionship.

But now, just two hours after explosions rang through the streets of Flamecrest, there was nothing.

“We’ll have to run,” Gerel said as we reached Revis Avenue. We had to cross, but there were no shadows to hide in, no crowds to get lost in. “One at a time. Keep your steps light, and aim yourself there.” She pointed to a pocket of darkness between an abandoned food cart and a bank. “Mira, you first.”

My back was pressed against a building. I hated the thought of crossing the street, so exposed to anyone who might be looking down from a building, but I’d made the decision to come out tonight. I had to do this. And I had to do it first.

I sucked in a deep breath and set my eyes on the food cart, and then, nerves steeled, I pushed myself off the wall and sprinted. One, two, three: I ran on the balls of my toes, keeping my breaths long and even. I felt too slow, too clumsy.

And when I reached the middle of the street, I could look to my left and see the Red Hall all the way down the illuminated stretch of road, glowing so bright it washed out the stars.

The building was immense, imposing. It seemed like an eye that stared straight down at me.

My mother was in that building.

Then I was across the street, tucked away in the shadows Gerel had indicated.

Chenda came next, graceful in her long strides. She crouched next to me while we watched Gerel.

Then I heard them: footfalls. The steady cadence of guards patrolling the area came from behind Chenda and me, moving straight for Gerel.