But Reed’s forgiveness didn’t matter. Now that it was clear to everyone how much danger Nate had put them in, there was no hope left for a future with the gang. He had no right to call them his family after he’d put them all in Agatha’s sights.
He had no right to love Reed.
But the soft, private smile on Reed’s lips when their eyes met still sent a current of affection through him.
He was going to miss Reed so much.
“Agatha could be anywhere.” Reed steeled his expression, his shoulders tensing. “We need to hide.”
“She won’t be alone either. When I was up on the roof waiting forever, she went that way with five or six people,” Sparks said, pointing.
Nate guided Pixel to take Sparks’s hand and hung back, breathless with guilt. All four of them had narrowly escaped death to give him a chance to live. And he’d shattered his only chance by destroying the Diffuser. They’d be right to hate him. Even with the gates opening, there was no telling that enough Remedy would make its way into the Withers—if any made it out of Gathos City at all.
It won’t in my lifetime.
“I can help you get settled somewhere before I go,” Nate said. “If you let me rest up for a few days, get my arm working again. I’ll tinker as best I can for you. Lights, locks. I know it won’t make up for this. Nothing will.”
Reed blinked at him like he’d grown another arm out of the side of his head. “What?”
Nate scratched his neck, embarrassment blistering. He should have known it was too much to ask. He’d never been anything but trouble to them, and the sooner he made his own way, the better. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I can go to Alden’s. Or maybe the Servants.”
Sparks came closer, squinted at him. “What happened to him in there? They hit his head?”
“No,” Brick said. “But I’m about to hit his head. Stop feeling sore, Nate. We didn’t round up half the fiends in the Withers to send you off to get snatched up by trappers or whatever trouble you’d manage to find next.”
“Besides.” Sparks’s expression shifted like she’d stepped into a shadow. She glanced at Pixel and back at Nate. “Alden’s place burned up this morning. Heard some fiends griping about it. No one knows where to go for cheap chem.”
“What?” High-pitched ringing sounded in Nate’s ears. He staggered back. “Where’s Alden?”
“Figured he ran off.”
Agatha and a bunch of her Breakers. Sparks had pointed in the direction of Alden’s shop.
Nate’s memories snapped together. It stung like a jolt of electricity.
You can’t come back here, Alden had said.
He’d known. He’d known they’d come for him once they had Nate.
“No.” Nate’s feet began to carry him in the direction of the shop with dragging, dizzy steps. “He doesn’t go anywhere. He doesn’t leave. He won’t leave. He’s never left.”
“Whoa.” Reed grabbed his good arm. “Nate. Stop. What are you doing?”
“I have to see!” He had to know it was true, because he could already picture the shop gone—obliterated by fire. Nothing left inside. Nate’s hands ached, gone cold in the rain that spat down at them listlessly.
“Then I’ll go with you. Sparks, Brick—keep Pixel safe,” he said. “Keep moving. We’ll meet up at sunset. In that alley behind the gull-catcher’s place.”
Pixel wrestled Brick’s grip, reaching for Nate. “No! We have to stay together.”
“Pix, you gotta stay with the girls.” Nate let her scrabble her small hands at him. “Let us go check on Alden, and we’ll find you when we’re done.” He caught one of her frantic hands and lowered his voice. “Look how scared Brick is. You have to keep her safe.”
Brick glared, and Sparks snorted.
“She needs you to take care of her,” Nate said.
Pixel laughed softly, until the laugh became a dry sob. “What if the Breakers catch you?” Tears welled up and spilled down her face.
A shiver ran through Nate. The Breakers would catch them if they didn’t hole up soon.
“They can’t catch us.” Reed crouched at Pixel’s side, rubbing her back. He looked up at Nate. “We’re alley cats, remember? We’re quick and smart, and we stick together, no matter what.”
Nate swallowed, wondering if he was imagining something pointed about Reed’s gaze.
“What do we do with this one if she wakes up?” Brick asked, hefting Juniper up.
Pixel scowled. “Don’t let her poke me with anything.”
“Tie her up if you have to,” Reed said.
“Gently,” Nate added. He shuffled one step, then another, as if blown by a strong wind.
None of them fussed with goodbyes. The girls dodged into an alley, finding the shadowed places beneath dripping fire escapes.
“Can you run?” Reed asked.
“I think so.”
They took off. The cool air whipped at Nate’s face, tickled where the rain wet his hair. He was sore inside and out. Raw. He breathed raggedly. Every footfall sent aftershocks of pain through his shoulder.
None of it bothered him. Even with Reed beside him, all he could think about was what they were running toward and how much his mind screamed at him to run away from it.
He didn’t want to see Alden’s bones. Fran’s. Both of them cooked to nothing in the only home they’d ever known.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Thick clouds grazed the tallest buildings in the Withers. Smog-tainted rain fell in heavy torrents, bitter on Nate’s lips. It seared the cuts on his wrists. His footsteps splashed, and his clothes stuck to his body, weighing him down as he ran toward an anemic column of smoke and steam where Alden’s shop was.
Reed raced beside him, his blood-soaked shirt slowly going pink as the rain washed it. He reached for Nate’s hand, and Nate shook it off. He had to concentrate. One foot after the other. If anything distracted him, he’d fall, and that would be it. He’d be done. Empty. He wouldn’t be able to take another step. He wouldn’t be able to look.
They turned the corner, and he stumbled to a stop. He’d known for a few blocks what he’d see. That much smoke didn’t come from a bin-fire. But the wreck of Alden’s shop stole his breath, chilled him to the bone.
The windows were gone, and the inside of the shop gaped at them like a toothless maw. Charred. Wisps of smoke rising from the ashes of Alden’s things.
A single wind chime hung from the door, which had been torn off its hinges.
“Nate,” Reed said.
A low growl escaped from Nate’s chest. A warning.
Don’t say anything. This is my fault.
They’d never have set their sights on Alden if it weren’t for him.
He made himself keep walking, every step revealing more ruin. The glass counter was gone, reduced to rubble and gleaming shards. The curtains that shielded Fran’s bedroom from the rest of the shop were burned away. Smoke poured from inside her room.
Nate choked on the smell of it and stepped through the doorway, his shoes crunching on broken jars. He wiped the rain out of his eyes and yelped when Reed grabbed him and yanked him back.
“Nate!”
“What—”
A wooden staff crashed against the broken plaster in front of Nate. In the dim light and the smoke, Nate struggled to identify his attacker.
“Alden.” His throat tightened.
Alden stood in the charred room in a torn, bloodied robe, swaying like a ghost in the blackened shell of his shop. His hair was singed at the tips, curled to wisps of ashy-white. A split lip and cut eyebrow bled like a red curtain down his cheek. He pushed his tangled hair out of his face.
“Oh.” He dropped the wooden staff, and it clattered to the floor. His bare feet left a trail of blood. “It’s raining.”
“Alden.” Nate appro
ached slowly, the way hungry kids stalked sludge-rats. Alden tensed up when his darting gaze found Reed. “It’s me.”
“They took everything.” Alden shivered. “I couldn’t stop them.”
“Alden, where is your grandmother?” Nate asked. He didn’t want to hear the answer. “Where’s Fran?”
“She went to sleep.” As Alden spoke, tears ran down his face. “They were at the door. I made her tea. She didn’t know, Natey. I didn’t hurt her. I swear I didn’t hurt her.”
Nate reached Alden and took his hand, grasping it tightly. Alden’s fingers were thinner than he remembered. His knuckles bled, bruise and ragged.
Nate tried not to imagine him fighting—or what he’d had to fight off. “I know.”
Alden’s wavering gaze shifted from Nate’s hand to his face. He blinked as if he’d only now seen him. “Hello, little dove,” he said. “Did they fix you up?”
“Yeah.” Nate’s voice broke. “I’m better now.”
“Everything’s gone.” Alden held one arm across his middle, and his hand trembled violently. “It hurts. And I don’t have anything left to make it stop.”
Nate touched Alden’s face carefully, wiping blood away with his sleeve. “What happened?”
“They came for my things.” Alden glanced at Reed, wary in a way Nate had never seen him, not in the worst of his throes of want, not ever. “But Grandmother didn’t see,” he whispered to Nate. “She didn’t see any of that.”
“Good,” Nate said helplessly, fixing Alden’s robe where it had slipped from his shoulder. “That’s good, Alden.”
“She wanted her bones to go to sea, Natey, but I couldn’t get her out fast enough. The fire wouldn’t stop.”
Nate didn’t know what to say.
“No matter. Everything’s gone now.” Alden pulled his hand out of Nate’s and fidgeted with the ruined ends of his hair. “Why are you here? I don’t have anything. The Diffuser’s gone too. They took it.”
Nate’s throat went sour. The Breakers might not be able to mass-produce chem, but they still had a way to abuse GEMs. “How did they get into the safe?” he asked, sharp with anger.
Reed nudged him with his shoe. Nate realized too late that Reed didn’t want him to ask—didn’t want to know.
“I was persuaded to open it,” Alden said, shoulders moving in a shrug that became a shudder and ran down the length of him. “I asked why you’re here,” he said, recovering with an agitated breath.
“I thought you were dead.” Nate cringed, not sure if this was any better. “They told me your shop burned.”
“The rumors are true.” Alden’s breath huffed. “It must be the talk of the Withers. Wherever will the lost find salvation now?”
Nate’s chest ached. Alden’s broken empire only mattered to those who couldn’t afford the Breakers’ superior chem. He’d been losing his grip on the fiends of the Withers all along.
“Come with us,” Reed said. “Pixel’s with the girls. She’ll want to see you. We’ll take you to the Servants to get mended.”
“I am not one of your charity cases.” Alden glanced at the open door and the rainy street beyond, fear flickering in his gaze before it hardened. “You shouldn’t have brought Nate here. If he got away from her once, he won’t get away again. They’ll make him sleep like they do in Gathos City.” His voice went ragged. “They’ll cut him apart. What were you thinking coming here?”
Nate was frozen in place, struck numb by the way Alden unraveled before him. It was like watching the train crumple apart.
“Alden,” Reed said in the gentle tone he used with Pixel whenever she woke screaming in the night. He took Alden’s elbow carefully.
Alden shook him off and pushed him hard, losing his balance. His body folded forward, and a strangled cry tore from his throat. Reed caught him, and Alden fought briefly before he slumped in Reed’s arms, hair falling over his face. The rage appeared to drain out of him, and he let out a hoarse, sobbed breath.
Reed’s eyes widened, and he turned a questioning gaze to Nate. He stroked Alden’s back, maybe without meaning to or maybe because he was Reed.
Nate wanted to reach for Alden, but resisted, struck with the awful thought that Alden would crumble to dust if he touched him.
“Nate,” Reed started to say, shaking his head. His pale-green eyes held a mix of apology and pity.
It made Nate want to lash out at him like Alden had. They couldn’t give up—not on wishes, not on anything.
Before Reed could say more, Alden straightened, flipping his hair out of his face and wiping his nose with a delicate sweep of his hand. “You’ll have to forgive me for that outburst. It’s been a long day.”
Silence stretched between them until Alden sighed and crossed his skinny, bruised arms. “So. You don’t look especially better-off. How did you get away from Agatha?”
“She was out.” Nate edged toward the door—hoping Alden would follow him. “Reed tricked fiends into killing her guards and breaking the door down.”
“She’s nothing without the fools who fight for her—for her chem,” Alden said, quietly bitter.
“I, uh, broke her still. So now she can’t make chem anymore. Or Remedy.”
Alden took a step toward him, one hand outstretched like a gull’s claw. “Tell me how she made Remedy,” he said, frantic. “In a still? How?”
Startled by the feverish questioning, Nate stumbled on his words. It didn’t matter anymore. He’d wrecked it all. “Serum, she said. It’s part of blood. Not GEM blood. But she mixed it with other things. Plant stuff. Chemical stuff. I couldn’t tell.”
“Blood. That . . .” Alden clenched his jaw. “Of course.”
Reed cleared his throat. “Agatha’s still out here somewhere.”
“Yes, I noticed when she brought her friends here and they set my home on fire.”
“Nate isn’t going to leave you here.”
Alden shot an icy look at Nate, and he shrugged. Reed was correct.
“If you won’t come willingly, I’m going to carry you,” Reed said, meeting Nate’s surprised look with a resigned shrug. “And it won’t be pleasant for either of us. Come as far as the gull-catcher’s shop. We’re meeting the girls there. Find somewhere dry. Sleep.”
“I’ll have plenty of time to sleep,” Alden said, monotone. He turned to the wall where the shelves were cracked down the middle, forming triangles and angular shadows.
Nate held his hand out for Alden. His sleeve was stained with blood and greenish Remedy.
Alden traced a trembling finger along the swollen wound that circled Nate’s wrist like a bracelet. “Did you get enough?” he asked in a whisper that sounded like an apology.
Enough for now.
“I’m fine, Alden. Let’s go.”
Alden took his hand.
Alden’s haunted gaze drifted up to the tops of the tall buildings and the crumbling, ornate carvings around the higher windows. He stared like a child, frightened and curious at once. Cradling his arm over his middle, he winced with every footstep.
“You’ve really never been out here?” Reed asked, voice soft with unmasked concern.
Alden didn’t answer.
Nate exchanged a quick look with Reed, pained at the thought of Alden’s entire life spent indoors, surrounded by his mother’s things and the sound of his grandmother’s paper-rustle voice.
They stopped to drink acidic water from a broken gutter and made their way to the rails—the shortest path to the spot Reed had picked to meet up with the girls. The rain had stopped, and the evening sun shone through breaks in the thick cloud cover. People came out of their homes, clearing broken concrete out of doorways and sweeping glass off the street.
There was something beautiful about every small effort to return the Withers back to the way it had been before the train wreck and the fires and
the mobs of angry people. Wretched or not, this was their home. For most people, the Withers would be the only home they’d ever have. Even if the gates opened, the city wasn’t going to welcome every Witherson to its gleaming towers.
They traveled slowly, silent except for Alden’s coarse breaths. Every few minutes, he swallowed back a sound of pain. He was hurt more than he was letting on. Reed threaded Alden’s arm over his shoulder.
He’s never quiet. Not like this.
The sickly sweet tang of decay hung in the air as they passed a building reduced to rubble. A lumpy pile of bodies rotted in the street below them. No one ever left bodies out in the Withers. They brought them to the shoreline and pushed them into the sludge or burned them in the street. But someone had left those bodies there. Someone had run away from them and never looked back.
The rails were crowded, but no one spared a glance at Alden’s barefoot, hobbling form. He fit in with the other dusty, bleeding travelers. Everyone walked with the clumsy momentum of fear. A family passed, carrying bloodied children who clung tightly, wide-eyed and silent.
Alden’s pale skin gleamed with sweat. He scanned the faces of everyone who passed as if afraid he’d recognize someone. With his shop gone and a surplus of Breaker chem on the streets from the fiends’ raid on Agatha’s basement, Alden had no power. There were no more bargains to be made.
Reed kept silent, his jaw tense and twitching as he matched Alden’s sluggish pace and carried the brunt of his weight. They’d already be at the meeting place if they could run.
And it wouldn’t take skill to track them.
Nate longed for a ticker and his tools, something to keep his hands busy and his mind quiet. Walking wasn’t enough.
Sadness pressed at him, sudden and heavy. “Fran knew she would die.”
“I’m sure it was a lucky guess.” Alden shivered, beyond the help of anything Fran could have knitted to warm him up. “Everyone knows they’re going to die.”
“She told me about the Mainland,” Nate said. “She believed in it.”
“While I appreciate your conviction,” Alden said, measuring his words out like each one taxed him, “I feel the need to remind you that my grandmother also believed that the cockroaches in her bedroom were trying to get a look at her knickers.”
Fragile Remedy Page 25
