Unfortunately, not seeing Rekkan only made me think about him more.

I thought about him through teaching children how to climb, and I thought of him while a drunken Uzmed jabbed me with a plastic blade and knocked back each of my attempts to do the same.

"Focus!" Uzmed demanded. "You fight worse than my eight-year-old daughter."

I shrugged. "I hear she fights well."

His scarred lips twitched, softening his face. "Well, yeah. She does."

I returned the smile, but only briefly. "Uzmed, how does Mazamu know you are training me to fight?"

He flipped his palms out wide. "Eh, Mazamu knows everything. Guess her hearing aids connect to secret microphones all over the Refuge."

"That doesn't... concern you?"

"I've got no problem with Mazamu. She gives me my information."

I tensed. "Really? What kind of information?"

"Gossip, mostly. Apparently Nezuli is bald now. That made Mazamu laugh so hard she swallowed a tooth."

Remembering the bald woman at the Ether temple, goosebumps rose on my arms. "What kind of allergic reaction does Nezuli have?"

"Fuck if I know." He tossed the plastic knife to me, and surprisingly, I managed to catch it. "Again," he said, raising his arms before him in a defensive posture. "Attack me."

I skirted a thumb along the dull blade, frowning. "I'm wasting your time. I'm not even improving."

"Just you wait." He jabbed a swaying finger in the air. "You may not notice every step along the way, but seemingly overnight, everything will change."

And Uzmed was right.

But not about my combat skills.

In the middle of the night, the thunderstorm started. Despite the meters of dirt above the Refuge, the crackle and boom shook my bedroom. Separated from the person I trusted and skeptical of the rest, the ominous echo frayed my nerves. To calm myself, I imagined Rekkan's even breath on the back of my neck; the weight of his arm draped over my shoulder; the worry lines of his forehead erased by slumber.

When I entered the cafeteria at breakfast time, the thunderstorm still raged. Each resounding boom rattled the web of overhead air ducts and vibrated through the metal tables and chairs. The oppressive atmosphere dampened the mood around the cafeteria, tensing shoulders and hushing voices.

The arrival of food did little to elevate the mood. While the three lab experts heaped eggs and hashbrowns onto their plates and shoveled bites into their mouths, most nibbled at their food. Figgel slipped into a glassy-eyed stupor without any tales of blood-soaked furniture and smashed-in heads, and even Ivogg lost his usual optimism. His checkered bowtie blazed as brightly as ever, but his gaze was distant and movements slow.

Across from me, Mekkar twirled his fork between his thumb and forefinger. "Thunder sure is loud today, isn't it?"

A hum of agreement passed around the table before everyone returned to silence. I cast an unwilling glance at the Northerner entrance. Even though I had promised Rekkan two days, I couldn't help hoping that he would enter any minute and take his seat beside me. He wasn't exactly a shining light of optimism, yet his presence never failed to comfort me.

Rekkan didn't come.

I ripped off the corner of a blueberry muffin and chewed it slowly.

When a clap of thunder shredded the quiet, Mekkar jolted an inch from his seat and gripped one hand in the other, knuckles whitening. "Thank Ether we put all those measures in place so the power can't go out, right?" His voice strained, and his gaze flicked between Zhina and Ivogg. "Right?"

Zhina nodded. "We spent years building safeguards against a power outage."

I set down the muffin and turned to Ivogg on my left. "You said a power outage could turn the air toxic?"

He nodded gravely. "Unfortunately, yes. With a power outage, this whole paradise could become uninhabitable inside an hour."

Zhina coughed. "Inside twenty minutes."

"Perhaps," said Ivogg, "But luckily, such a thing could never happen. We have back-ups for the back-ups for the back-ups against that!"

Zhina's frown creased her plump face. "Unless someone overrode them all."

Mekkar huffed an uneasy chuckle. "No one here has the desire or capability to do that."

"Lazora disagreed," said Zhina.

"Well." Ivogg darted an apologetic glance in my direction. "We all love Lazora, but she was a bit of a..."

"Realist," Zhina supplied, staring down Ivogg.

My eyes flicked between Ivogg, Mekkar, and Zhina. Every reference to my mother still breached some unhealed wound — a festering amalgamation of hero-worship and indignation. She loved me, but she barely showed me that love. She rewrote history books, but she barely touched my life.

Still, if my mother once feared a power outage, I believed her concern was valid. If only I knew who she had suspected, how, and why.

My mouth moved to form another question, but something even more unsettling seized my attention. Lekk, Megg, and Bokk entered the cafeteria. Lekk's nose jutted left and then right, blotted with purple and yellow. The red wristband signaling their Cutthroat Crew allegiance had disappeared. The three plopped down at a table near the center... on the Southie side.

The few Southies seated there dropped their food to stare. 

Seconds later, Bezan entered through the Southie door, and he strode toward the same table. He grinned at everyone else and scooped a half-dozen fried eggs onto his plate.

Lekk, Megg, and Bokk smiled back. Blood trickled from Lekk's swollen split lip. 

"What the fuck," I muttered under my breath.

Ivogg chortled. "Not the words I would use, but I agree with the sentiment. What an incredible transformation!"

I shook my head. "What happened?"

"A few extra Mediation sessions with our lab experts." Ivogg nodded at the three pigtailed women. "You ladies should lead all of the mediation sessions!"

They shrugged and giggled at the compliment.

Wrongness prickled the back of my neck. Abandoning the rest of my muffin, I jerked to my feet.

Long, slender fingers brushed my forearm, and golden-brown eyes blinked at me. "Ru, where are you going?"

"Just want a closer look at the transformation."

Ignoring a grunt of protest from nearly everyone at the table — and a dirty look from the Rekkan in my mind — I paced toward the table of enemies.

None of them looked up.

I cleared my throat and gestured to the empty seat beside Bokk. "Can I sit with you for a moment?"

Bokk blinked at me for a moment, expression utterly blank. Then he smiled. "Sure, Zafaru. The more the merrier!"

The wrongness spread, tingling through my body, but I dropped into the seat beside Bokk and forced myself to return the smile. "You all seem to be in great spirits this morning."

Lekk cocked his head, the remaining bite of a muffin perched in his palm. "Of course we are! The world is a beautiful place."

"That's right," Bezan agreed. "So beautiful, and so free!"

I blinked at them each in turn. The few Southies at the table I didn't recognize scoffed and ducked their heads, focusing on their food. Lekk, Megg, Bokk, and Bezan held my gaze, smiles unwavering.

I appealed to the henchman on my right. "It doesn't bother you to sit by Southies? Just yesterday, you claimed Southies are worse than animals."

Bokk scratched his head. "Did I say that? That doesn't sound like me."

When his hand dropped back to the table, I noticed it: tiny purple dots speckled his arm.

Cold crashed over my gut, numbing my tongue. First the Ether temple woman, then Nezuli, and now these four... this was no coincidence. Purple freckles and an obsession with freedom seemed far more benign than rotting skin and a hunger for human flesh. However, the change in personality terrified me. Something was fundamentally wrong with their brains.

The people I was speaking to were not really people anymore.

Megg propped her chin on her fists, eyelashes fluttering. "Is something wrong, Zafaru?"

I had the strangest sensation that the Head Chef was watching me through her eyes—that he could maybe even sense my elevated heartbeat.

A part of me just wanted to go find Rekkan and fucking run. But then I remembered Fennikk. Nikkla. Razalu, Uzmed, Serigg, Zhina... fuck, I didn't even want to leave Evil-Grandma or crazy Figgel to whatever sugar-coated poison now played out before my eyes.

"Of course not," I croaked. "Like you said, the world is a beautiful place. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to use the restroom."

I rose to my feet, and they turned their focus back to their food. Moving with careful slowness, I drifted toward the Northerner door. On the way there, I shot a glance at Serigg, praying she was watching me.

Three seconds after I passed through the door, she slipped out behind me.

Eyes flitting between me and the cafeteria entrance, Serigg whispered, "What is it, Zafaru? What did you see?"

"I think we need another look at that supply closet."

She nodded and snatched my arm, hauling me off toward the closet where we had first spoken. "Oh yes, dear." Her voice rang down the corridor. "I know exactly where the broom you need is."

She opened the door, wrenched me inside, and slammed it shut. Her functional eyelid raised high, and the sagging one twitched.

I hesitated, brainstorming an obtrusive approach. Though I still wasn't sure I could trust her, I needed her to trust me. Without raising suspicion, I would slowly gain her trust and delve into her mind.

I sucked in a breath and released the words in one spurt. "Tell me everything you know."

Oops.

Unobtrusive was perhaps not my style.

She folded her arms over her chest. "Everything I know about what?"

"Why did my mother ask you to protect me? What did she suspect?"

Her hands slipped to her sides, and she puffed out a weary sigh. "I want to tell you, but... do you promise to stay away from Rekkan?"

"No. But he's staying away from me, for now. And he's the least of our concerns."

She shook her head. "If you knew what he did to Marvikk —"

"I do know. Rekkan told me he beat him up badly enough he spent time in the hospital. But he also told me the reason."

Her dilapidated facial features twitched. "Believe me, we asked why Rekkan did it, but he never —"

"He was afraid to tell you. He didn't want —" I paused, hesitant to reveal Rekkan's secret, but seeing no better recourse, I plowed ahead. "He didn't want to admit he was keeping a cockroach under his bed. Marvikk tortured and killed that cockroach... and told Rekkan the cockroach was just like him. Unwanted."

"Oh." The syllable lasted for several seconds, part voiced and part just breath. Serigg swallowed, droopy eyelid glistening. "Oh, Ether. And we just... fuck." The curse sounded especially vulgar from her mouth, like a child shoving open the door to a forbidden room. "Poor Rekkan."

I knew Serigg had lost everything — her husband, her team, and even her face. And perhaps I should have taken pity. But my indignation on Rekkan's behalf won out.

"Yeah, poor Rekkan. You really fucked up. Now, tell me what you know. Why did my mother ask you to look after me in case she died?"

Serigg hesitated, blinking back tears. She sniffed hard, eyes averted. When she met eyes again, she spoke in a barely audible voice. "Zafaru, your mother... I think she was afraid she knew too much. All of the Seven Sentries wanted global peace, but we disagreed on how to achieve that. And Lazora found out one Sentry was developing a particularly unsettling Plan B."

Breathlessness burned my chest and tightened my voice. "Plan B?"

A wry smile. "If we can't change their minds, we change their brains."