Go to the medical ward.

  That made the most sense. Not because John had said so, but because Zach couldn’t see Lucas in this crowd. He had to be at the medical ward. If he knew his brother had been killed, if he’d even suspected it, surely he’d be here by now.

  He set off at a run.

  With what had happened at the Dreamhold, everyone not currently serving their Function duties was standing in front of the building. That meant he could go on foot. Of course, he was still careful, stopping at every corner and looking down every street before he ran on.

  The sun had gone down considerably since he’d come running from the military base. Still, he kept to the buildings’ cool shadows. Running in that heat had been—

  His thighs started cramping, the muscles spasming uncontrollably, burning with an uncomfortable heat. Worse, when he came to a complete stop, it started itching as though there were hundreds, thousands of ants crawling up from his feet to his pelvis, biting and stinging him all the way.

  Squatting right there, he scratched at his legs vehemently. It was so bad, he picked up a small stone lying in the street and started dragging it down the length of his legs, repeatedly going over his thighs.

  “Oh, for God’s sake, it’s one thing after the other,” he said.

  This hadn’t happened before, so why was—

  He glanced behind him, searching the empty street. He had the odd sense someone was watching him. But he’d been running too fast for someone to have followed him, which meant he’d found the person here—at the intersection of 3rd and 2nd Street, he realized.

  He couldn’t see anyone. Slowly, he set the stone down, bringing his attention back to his legs. The burning, itching sensation was fading now, but all the scratching had brought long, red streaks down his legs.

  Is this because of the running, or something else? Wouldn’t it be perfect if I suddenly contracted some disease unique to this world?

  As he got back to his feet, he remembered the medical ward was about a fifteen-minute walk from where he currently stood. Something nagged at him that it was the speed that had caused the sudden breakout.

  Should I walk instead? Fifteen minutes—

  There it was again. The feeling that someone was watching him. His heart started racing. Someone had killed the Dreamers in the hold—what if they were hunting him now? Or what if it was someone who felt it wasn’t fair that he got to survive while the other Dreamers were slain in the building?

  Either way, he was not inclined to stay and find out which one it was. He started down the street, wishing he could run but fearing the same thing would happen again. Even as he walked, he felt it building slightly. It almost felt raw as it rubbed against the fabric of his pants.

  The sensation made him want to stop, to scratch again, this time going as deep as he could. But that feeling, that certainty that someone was watching him, made him go on.

  After getting to the center of the camp as fast as he had, the fifteen minutes it took to get to the medical ward took forever.

  During the walk, Zach strained his eyes over his shoulder, glancing around the street until he noticed the hint of a darker shadow standing in one of the alleys.

  His eyes passed over the figure as if he hadn’t seen anything. If this was truly the person who’d killed the Dreamers, it didn’t seem wise to force a confrontation. Especially since the power seemed to be causing sudden attacks whenever he used it.

  So, he continued on, grateful he made it to the medical ward without his stalker revealing themselves. He paused outside the doors, organizing his thoughts before he went in.

  Lucas. He had to see Lucas.

  When he pushed the doors open, the ward’s emptiness hit him immediately. A sudden silence that hadn’t been there the last time he’d walked down these halls. The same woman from before sat at the small desk, that same book opened before her.

  She was smoking from what he now understood was called a roll. Though he supposed in this world, they called the action pulling from the roll. When she heard the door open, she hurriedly lowered the thing, hiding it underneath the table.

  It took a minute for her to register who was standing before her, but Zach saw the instant her mind made the connection. She opened her mouth multiple times before she finally cleared her throat.

  “Um... Your mother went to the hold a few minutes ago. With Ava. To check if they could do anything for… the wounded.”

  He nodded, glancing back outside. “Is Lucas here?” he asked.

  “He is,” a voice called from one of the nearby rooms. A split second later, Lucas came walking out, drying his hands on a large cloth.

  Zach looked down at the woman by the desk, wishing she were anywhere else but here. “I need to speak with you,” he said, turning back to face Lucas.

  “Oh, you need me to check your hand?” His tone was simple, nothing more than someone in the Medical Function wanting to check on a patient, but his eyes were pointed.

  Zach nodded silently.

  “This way,” Lucas said, stepping into the hall and making his way down.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  Zach glanced at the woman, who looked away from him almost instantly. The sad, sympathetic glances he’d gotten outside the hold now filled her eyes as well. He pulled away from it, forcefully telling himself this wasn’t the time.

  As they walked past one of the rooms, Zach paused, seeing someone familiar. Jackson sat there on a bed, a nasty bruise darkening the skin around his jaw. When their eyes met, the boy glared daggers at him, though he was remarkably more reserved compared to the last time they’d interacted.

  Zach swallowed the apology that was forming on his lips. Why should he apologize? Regardless of what had happened, they’d antagonized him, not the other way around. Still, he could tell Jackson was going to be a problem.

  He hurried to catch up with Lucas, relieved when they finally turned into a room. The second the door closed, Zach said, “Is Noah fine? Is he-is he alive?”

  Lucas blinked. He frowned, tilting his head to the side. “What are you talking about?” he asked as if he were trying to solve a complicated puzzle.

  “What happened at the hold? Was Noah there? Did he Step out before they got to him?”

  “Oh, that’s what you’re talking about.”

  Lucas leaned his head back against the door, staring up at the ceiling.

  “He’s fine. I mean, I haven’t spoken to him since the attack—we think it happened a few hours ago—but I’ve been here at the ward, so I haven’t been able to speak with him yet.”

  Zach looked around. “But you’re sure he’s fine...?” he said, confusedly.

  “I know he’s fine. It’s a link in our Theurgy.”

  “I know that word,” Zach said, recalling the strange man he’d spoken with at the shooting range. “That man said he smelled it on me.”

  That did it. Lucas came alert as if someone had threatened him. He pushed away from the wall, his eyes narrowing almost into slits. “What man?”

  “I don’t know who he was,” Zach said. “He just spoke to me, back at the base. He spoke to me about my family’s Sin. I think he meant Oliver’s. Then he said he smelled Theurgy on me, and that he was hunting you.”

  Speaking about it now, Zach realized he’d actually forgotten that bit of the exchange. But it was the moment after that, after he’d looked into his eyes, that still seemed hazy.

  Lucas was looking at him with wide eyes and a pale face. “There aren’t many who know about us, about Theurgy. And he said he could smell it? No, no, no, no. This can’t be happening, not again.”

  He walked over to the window, and Zach thought he was about to do what he’d done last time, cutting the palm of his hand to call Noah here. But all he did was stare out at the courtyard beyond and shake his head softly.

  “If you hadn’t told me that, they might’ve spotted us if we used it. Thank you for that.”

  “Does that mean Noah would’ve been spotted if he Stepped?” Zach asked.

  “No. His Stepping has to do with his Creational Force. That’s something else entirely. But I have to warn him. But if I leave the ward early, I’ll draw attention to myself. We promised never to do that. It’s bad enough you came asking for me.”

  He faced Zach.

  “After the attack on the hold, he probably Stepped back to our apartment. I need you to go and warn him, before he tries to make contact with me.”

  “I’m being followed,” Zach said, remembering the darker shadow. “I don’t know who, or what they want, but they were following me.”

  Lucas swore under his breath. “How did you get here? Did you walk or take a wagon?”

  “Walked,” Zach answered.

  Lucas nodded. “With what happened at the hold, the streets are empty?”

  Zach nodded.

  “So, it’s surveillance,” he muttered to himself, “otherwise they would’ve tried to take you. But for whom? Questions, questions, questions.” For a minute, he sounded just like his brother.

  “That’s fine, that’s fine. Go through the back. I’m confident they won’t do anything.”

  “What if they can also smell Theurgy?”

  “They haven’t come for me or for Noah because they can’t trace the smell back to us. They smell it on you because Noah used the power on you. As long as we don’t use the power, they can’t trace us.”

  Zach nodded, taking note of how calm he seemed when a second ago he’d acted as though the world itself was ending. If he hadn’t known it before, he did now. These brothers had an interesting story.

  “Our place is the fifth floor of the apartment on the corner of Buys and 1st. The seventh door on the right of the staircase. Clap thrice outside the sixth door before you go to the Seventh. Do not move until Noah opens the door. Got it?”

  Zach nodded. Corner of Buys and 1st. That wasn’t too far from the medical ward. At most, it was a five-minute walk.

  “Then go, hopefully he doesn’t use the power.”

  Lucas went for the door, but when he pulled on the handle, Zach remembered Jackson with that big bruise, sitting on the bed.

  Unable to help himself, he asked, “Why is Jackson still here? Did I hurt him that badly?” John and Eve would’ve mentioned it.

  “You did a number on him. He came here complaining about the pain, saying it’s difficult to eat and speak, though it doesn’t stop him from going on and on about it.” He stepped into the hall. “Down the hall, then turn right. There are double doors there at the end that open on Buys.”

  Zach walked out, keeping his discomfort to himself. If Lucas was sure the stalker wouldn’t do anything to him, that had to mean something. Especially if he was sending him to his brother. He wouldn’t put Noah in such a predicament, knowing there was danger, would he?

  He hoped not.

  When he left the ward, the sun had gone down even further. However, there was more of that oddness to the weather. Where the day had been filled with nothing but heat, there was a winter chill in the air, a biting cold that sent a shiver up his spine.

  Moreover, in the dying light of the sun, snow started falling. He caught a flake, studying it in the palm of his hand. But when he brought it up to his face, he noticed it wasn’t snow. It flaked away like ash.

  Now it’s raining ash!

  He dusted his hand against his shirt and continued down the street. The burning itch in his legs was no longer there, but he still refrained from using the speed. The streets were still empty. Those who were coming back from their Functions would no doubt join everyone else in front of the hold, demanding answers, wanting to know if demons were loose.

  Still, not using the strange speed didn’t mean that he had to walk slowly.

  When the building finally loomed before him, he remembered the journal waiting underneath the bed. His concern for Noah could only be a good quality, but he couldn’t help but feel frustrated at all these occurrences. Life seemed determined to keep him busy and distracted. What if—

  He slowed his walk, pretending he was looking up at the apartment building. His stalker was back. It only dawned on him then how odd it was that he could sense someone watching him. But he couldn’t focus on that now.

  He walked into the building, going up the flights of stairs. Uncarpeted, there was an open, small window on every level that allowed fresh air into the stairwell. When he reached the fifth floor, worried that the stalker had entered as well, he went into the hall, counting down the doors until he reached the sixth one.

  He hesitated briefly, then clapped his hands just as Lucas had said to do. On the last clap, the seventh door opened. Noah’s hands shot out, pulling him in and closing the door behind him.

  “Are you aware someone’s following you?”