“The tangles didn’t suit you.” Nate laughed like a creaking hinge.
Alden gave a soft hum of acknowledgment and closed his eyes. His fingertips fluttered against Nate’s arm at the edge of the bandage. Nate studied the deep circles under his eyes and the blueish pale tinge of his fingertips and lips.
“How old are you really?” Every time Nate had ever asked, Alden had given him a different age.
“Would be twenty this summer.” He opened his eyes again and struggled to focus on Nate. “Began misbehaving at a tender age. Don’t tell.”
“I won’t,” Nate said, heart shattering. Alden must have been a child when he’d taken over the curio shop. When he’d started pushing chem and losing himself in it to forget.
Alden hissed and tensed up, his eyes squeezing shut.
“I’m right here,” Nate said. That’s all he could say. That’s what James had told him to do. “You—you can let go.”
“Rushing me out the door, Natey?” Alden asked, peering one eye open.
“Shut up.” Nate sniffled and scrubbed at his eyes with his forearms. He took Alden’s hand and kissed his dry knuckles.
Muffled shouting sounded outside. Alden’s expression gentled to a true smile. He closed his eyes, and the tight furrow at his brow smoothed out. “Take care of that little alley cat.”
“Pixel? She’ll take care of all of us.”
“I like her. Give her shiny things always.”
“Does it hurt?” Nate asked.
Alden nodded faintly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Mmm. Can’t be helped. Please burn me up. None of that pageantry at the sludge-shore.” Alden panted, drained by every word. “I’m simply not dressed for it.”
Nate choked. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Of course you will.” Alden sighed. “You’re going to be terribly bored.”
They fell into silence.
Sunlight shimmered through the dusty window, catching Nate’s eye.
When he looked down, Alden was gone.
The stillness had come so quickly, settling in between one labored breath and eternity.
Nate pressed his hand over his mouth to stifle a sob. Tears ran down his cheeks, over his fingers. Grief blanketed him, as heavy as sickness, squeezing his chest until it burned. He wanted to keep talking to Alden, to always hear his voice. To always be his friend.
“Alden,” he whispered. “You rat. You weren’t supposed to go.”
Alden’s eyes were closed, but he didn’t look like he was sleeping. He looked dead. And the ugliness of it was all wrong.
The window shimmered again. This time, Nate squinted at it and wiped his nose. The hair stood up on his arms.
As Nate drew himself up to look through the dusty glass, the pane shattered with a crack, and the rancid smell of gasolex filled the room. Before he could shout, the fluttering curtains burst into flames.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Nate didn’t spare a moment to think. He jumped across the chairs, launching himself from one cushion to the next, and leapt into the flaming curtains. Pain flashed through his hands. He held on and used his weight to pull.
He had to get them down before the whole room went up in flames.
Come on.
The curtain rod whined, buckled, and finally gave. Nate crashed to the floor with the curtains twisting around him. Burning. His initial burst of excited fear became panic as he got tangled in the curtains and his sleeve caught on fire. He twisted, trying to roll and dampen the flames.
James appeared beside him, slapping and stomping the curtains and Nate’s clothes. “Get everyone away from the windows. They’re outside!” he yelled.
It was too late.
Another glass bottle shattered on the wall behind him, tossed through the open window. It didn’t light like the first had, but the noxious smell of gasolex got worse. Angry shouting erupted outside.
“The Breakers. Jamie! The girls,” Ivy was trying to lift Alden. “The little ones. They’re GEMs too.”
Nate inched back from the window, shaking. He darted a look at Ivy, surprised that she knew.
Alden’s head lolled to the side.
“Ivy—he’s gone. Help the others.”
She gave him a long look and nodded, setting Alden down with painful gentleness before dashing out of the room.
Nate stared at his hands. One was red and angry, and the other—the other was blistering up and throbbing with agony.
He retched, unable to move. James tugged him toward the hallway. “I need to hide your friends.”
“But everyone else . . .”
“I know,” James said grimly. “We’ll figure something out.”
No.
No one else was going to get hurt because of Nate. He gripped James and stood, ignoring the searing throb of his hands.
Two men climbed through the window, one holding a pipe and the other, a stun gun. The man with the pipe had a wild shock of white hair and tattoos all over his neck. He charged at James, and Nate dropped his shoulder and launched himself at him, realizing too late that he’d aimed with his sore shoulder.
His vision erupted with black fire as he rolled with the man, sending them both to the floor in a heap. Nate couldn’t move. Couldn’t help. All he’d done was delay the attack.
He was useless.
“Stay there,” the man growled. He kicked Nate’s ribs and continued in the direction Ivy had gone.
James grappled with the other man in the hallway. Nate rolled onto his side in time to see a flash of red hair and Brick tackling the man with the pipe. Reed followed, coming behind the man with the stun gun and jumping onto his back to put him in a choke hold. The stun gun sang, blue-white light zipping through the air, narrowly missing Brick.
The fight moved down the hall, out of Nate’s line of sight. He wrestled his way to his hands and knees and cried out when his skin stuck to the floor. His arms buckled, and he crashed back down, sobbing with frustration. Clutching his hands against his middle, he tried to roll again, using his shoulder for leverage.
“Oh dear.” A gentle hand took him by his good shoulder and eased him to sit up. “You’re in a bad way.”
Nate blinked through his tears and went very still.
Agatha propped him against the couch and crouched in front of him. She jerked her head toward where Alden’s body lay. “So you’ve seen what happens when someone crosses me.”
A snarl tore from his throat.
She laughed. “He took the beating well. Didn’t beg. Not at first. But you—you’re already crying.” Her skin gleamed with sweat, and she breathed hard, like she’d been running. “If I’d known you’d have been this much trouble, I would never have opened my doors to you. There are really no words for the damage you’ve caused. No possible way you could repay me.”
This time, there was no getting away. She held a knife as long as Nate’s forearm.
Nate grit his teeth. “I’m not sorry.”
Her eyes flashed with rage that didn’t touch the smooth contours of her face. “Know this, boy. You didn’t save anyone. You delayed me. I’ll have another still up and running before your friends have sunk to the bottom of the sludge.”
“Remedy,” Nate croaked.
“I’m not as stupid as you think I am. I’ve got more than enough to keep me alive until I can make more. If the others die . . . well, there are always more to come. Pixel isn’t the only unripe GEM in the Withers.”
Pain made Agatha waver in front of Nate. He squeezed his eyes shut. Whatever she was going to do, it couldn’t hurt much worse than the agony searing through his hands.
“I didn’t want to do this,” Agatha muttered. “I wanted to protect you. All of you.” Her knife skated along Nate’s side, and she whispered to herself, counting. Counting his r
ibs. Finding the right place, he realized. The surest way to kill him.
He heard the sounds of bodies hitting the thin wall in the hallway. Grunts and shouts.
I don’t want to die.
Nate opened his eyes.
“Agatha!” Ivy stood in the entrance to the living room, her hands stretched out. “Gods, don’t do this.”
“Vivian.” Agatha’s breath was hot against Nate’s skin. “You should have stayed in the towers. How dare you show your face after you left all of us behind. After you left me.”
“Let him go.” Ivy’s words became a moan. “Agatha.”
“You knew what they would do. What they would make of me without your protection.” Agatha’s fingers dug into Nate’s tender shoulder. He stifled a cry, sickened by the blank horror on Ivy’s face.
“He’s my son. I never thought . . .”
“You did not think. Not at all.”
“I know.” Tears wet Ivy’s face, her pale eyes big, hurt. And remorseful. “Please don’t take him.”
Agatha rasped a toneless chuckle. “You won’t have to mourn him for long.”
A current of fury ran through Nate, hotter than the fire. No one was going to touch his mother.
He grasped the knife, sliding his hand along the blade until it met Agatha’s. Slack-jawed, she looked down at the smear of his blood, and he used that moment to pivot and yank the knife forward, using her strength. The edge sliced along the tender skin at his ribs and landed exactly how he wanted it—in the wooden edge of the couch, trapped under his arm.
Nate had never been strong. But as a Tinkerer, he’d learned how to find the perfect angles. The weak spots. Where to press. How to bend things so they snapped.
Agatha snarled. He twisted her arm, and she lost her balance—and her grip on the knife.
You’ve gotta mean it, Brick had told him.
If he was going to die, he was taking Agatha into the stillness with him. Where she’d never touch his mother. Or Pixel. Or Reed. Or anyone.
She clawed at him, and he reached back and found the handle of the knife. His hand slipped, slick with blood and burned ruin. Agatha elbowed him in the throat, and he doubled over, gasping.
Ivy swung James’s metal medicine box at Agatha’s head, catching the sharp edge near her ear. The glass inside shattered, tinkling like chimes. Agatha shrieked out a guttural sound and sprang up at Ivy. They crashed into the wall by the window.
Nate moaned, trying to breathe. He reached back for the knife again, and his hand slipped once more, fingers refusing to curl into a grip. He crawled forward, bearing his weight on his elbows, wrecked palms facing up. It was slow going. Too slow. Agatha had her hands on Ivy’s throat, overpowering her, too much taller, too much stronger.
Ivy went still, her arms dropping at her sides. Limp.
“No!” Nate levered his elbow against a chair and pulled himself up. He staggered to the side, the room tilting beneath him. He couldn’t lose her too.
Agatha turned slowly, blood glaring down the side of her face, dripping down her shirt and pants. She gritted her teeth.
Her hands were shaking.
Nate dodged to the side, getting in the sightline of the eye slicked with blood. His only chance. His last chance. He dove for her feet, hoping to get her off-balance—to grapple with her somehow. His pulse thundered in his ears, and his throat vibrated with a broken growl.
He lost his balance and came up short, crashing down to his knees. It knocked the wind out of him. He’d failed. He couldn’t fight, wasn’t strong enough.
Agatha’s breath made a gurgling sound. She stared at Nate—and slowly lowered her gaze.
The gleaming tip of the huge knife protruded from her gut.
“I thought you were better than them.” Juniper stood behind Agatha, chest heaving. “But you’re not.” She wrenched the knife out of Agatha’s middle. It clattered to the ground as Agatha crumpled. The sun shone through the window behind her, lighting her hair up like fire.
Juniper sniffled in a breath and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Then she sat in one of the chairs and ducked her head.
Agatha made wet, horrible sounds. She pressed her hands to her belly as if she could stop her lifeblood from pumping out, but it was too much. So much. Foul and dark. Nate shuffled past her, dragging himself by his elbows, and went to where Ivy was on her side against the wall.
His wrecked hands smeared blood all over Ivy’s neck and her clothes as he felt for her heartbeat—for any sign of life. He couldn’t feel anything. Only pain.
It hurt so much.
He pressed his face against her middle and choked on a raw cry. She didn’t move. Alden sprawled out on the floor where Ivy had left him, utterly still. They were gone. A great big hole opened up in Nate, as if Juniper had stabbed him too, and carved out everything he needed to breathe.
Ivy coughed.
Nate lifted his head weakly, sure he’d misheard.
Her eyes fluttered open, gray mirrors to his own. Confused, scared—and then wet with relief. “Nate.”
All the strength left in him snuffed out. “Mom!” he cried. His arms trembled violently as he reached for her like a child.
She gathered him up in a fierce hold, and he sobbed, no longer aware of anything but pain and the steady rush of her breath.
“I’ve got you, Nate.” She rocked him, again and again. “I’ve got you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
James took Nate outside in the clear light to work on his hands. Ivy held him on the steps, brushing a wet cloth against his face over and over. The chill of it drew Nate from the haze of the chem James had given him.
Nate drifted, wondering if it would feel better if they simply chopped his hands off.
“I’ve never done sutures on burned flesh,” James muttered, hunched over Nate’s hand where it lay on a towel in his lap. He’d put a thick salve along the deep cuts from Agatha’s knife, so that all Nate felt from the mending was the long, slow pull of the thread. The burns were the worst of it, relentless. Screaming.
His hazy attention turned to the street, where Reed was still talking to the neighbors. The woman who’d been nursing her toddler stood with the little one strapped to her back with a colorful blanket. She held a wooden staff with a knife strapped to the tip. An older boy stood beside her with a pipe Nate recognized as the one the man with the neck tattoo had held. A dozen more gathered around Reed, who stood with his shoulders back and proud. Reed’s eyes were bright as he spoke, too far for Nate to hear. A soft flutter of affection made Nate smile. People listened to Reed. Trusted him. Followed him.
The bodies of the Breakers were two doors down in the middle of the street. Burning.
Sparks jogged over. She’d kept Pixel hidden on the roof—only the two of them had been left unscathed. “Good thing we never scavenged around here. These folks would have beaten our heads clean off and roasted us in the morning.”
Ivy’s arms tightened around Nate. She hadn’t let go of him once since she’d woken up from Agatha’s attack. “Hard-won peace is the most difficult to shake.”
“The Breakers won’t come this way again,” Sparks said.
If there were even Breakers anymore. Reed and Brick had taken Agatha’s body to the nearest main intersection and left it there. It was cruel, but it was their only chance to make sure the message got to the right people as quickly as possible.
Those who ran for the Breakers had no one left to pay them. No one to supply them with chem. As soon as Nate could get his hands on a ticker, he’d rig it to send the same message as often as he could.
He wasn’t stupid enough to think someone wouldn’t try to rise in her place, but they wouldn’t have GEMs or good chem to bargain with.
“Are you almost done?” Nate asked, hoarse—his throat swollen from Agatha’s sharp blow.
“Trust me, you want this done correctly,” James said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Especially in your trade. Even with my best work, it’ll be weeks before you can work. And you’ll have to stretch your hands and oil them every day if you expect to keep your grip.”
“It can’t be weeks,” Nate whispered.
They didn’t understand. Alden was dead, and Nate was outside in the sun like a sleeping gull. As soon as his head was clear, he’d get to work setting up better security for Ivy House.
And figuring out how to save Pixel from wanting for Remedy.
James finished with the needle and wiry thread. He coated Nate’s palms and fingers with another greasy layer of salve before wrapping them with so much soft cloth that Nate looked like he was wearing steamed buns for hands.
Maybe James was right about needing time.
“I need to look at your side,” James said.
“No.” Nate squirmed. “Later. Let me go.”
James and Ivy exchanged a look.
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Reed said from the bottom of the stairs. “I’ll bring him back to you when . . . when he’s done.”
Nate reached out, and Reed shook his head ruefully, surveying the mess of Nate’s bandaged hands. He and Brick had come out of the fight with scrapes and bruises, but neither had been hurt badly—because James had opened the front door to a mob of neighbors who’d dragged Agatha’s men into the street and beaten them to death.
“It appears people still respect Servants of the Old Gods,” Ivy had said with a tired smile.
Reed took him by the elbows and helped him up. “Looks like you’ll be teaching Pixel more tinkering real quick.”
They made their way to the room where Alden’s body had been taken. He was the only one there. Proper windowpanes muffled the sounds of excitement in the street.
Reed lingered, resting his warm hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Call out if you need me.”
Ivy and James had said the same thing, but this time Nate wouldn’t need anything at all. He only wanted to say goodbye to his friend.
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