A scream, blistering with rage. A grunt, dwindling to a hissing gurgle. Warm blood spattered onto Katrine's chest. Lucian's grip on her neck loosened. Air rushed back into her lungs.

Gasping, her eyes flew open, stinging with smoke billowing from flames licking the walls. Anya crouched over her, both hands on the hilt of the knife buried in Lucian's neck. Blood oozed from the cut on her cheek, mixing with tears streaming from wide, glassy eyes.

Lucian raised a hand to his neck and blinked. He coughed. Blood bubbled from his lips. Then he collapsed, a scarlet pool growing beneath him.

The room roared, an awakened beast. Wheezing, Katrine clawed her way out from underneath Lucian. Anya fell backward, releasing the knife and stifling another scream with her hands, as Sid rushed over to push Lucian away. He toppled to the floor, arms splayed like a forgotten doll, and stilled. The fire crackled as it engulfed the desk, glittering off the facets of the crystals. The vials and syringes burst with deafening pops, feeding the hungry flames.

Freed, Katrine pulled the keys from her waistband and forced them into Sid's hand. "Let everyone out, I'll catch up to you!"

Bobbing his head, Sid pulled his sister to her feet and the two stumbled out of the room, trailing bloody footsteps. Anya had buried herself into his shoulder, her claw-like hand gripping his torn gown.

Katrine's head whipped back to Lucian, the room wobbling. He was dead. He had to be. But maybe it wasn't enough, and his eyes were going to snap back open and those hands would turn into scissors, slicing her head right off her neck so it'd roll on the floor—

Shattering glass made her twitch, and she shifted to her knees. She seized the knife, her knife, and yanked it out of his neck; blood dribbled from the wound. He didn't move. Inching forward, eyes glued to his face, she reached into his pocket and pulled out the syringe. The needle was bent, but the glass was still intact.

Shoving the syringe into her waistband and the knife back in its holster, she ran into the laboratory just as the workstation collapsed behind her. The vials and notebooks sat unharmed on the desk. Take one, she thought, take it! An acrid smell, sweet and thick, rose above the smoke and she gagged. Her feet propelled her out the door without a second look, ignoring her mind's feeble protest, and forced her down the hallway.

The cell door was askew, and Katrine skidded to a stop before it. Anya had unlocked half of the children while Sid stared down at the unconscious priest, an inscrutable expression darkening his face. He could be measuring the man's weight to carry him, or considering what could be found by digging through his pockets.

"Leave him," Katrine said. "You take the rear. Got it?"

Tearing his eyes away, Sid nodded. An apple-shaped bruise had already formed on his cheek, threatening to grow bigger than his head.

Katrine peered down the hallway. Go right, where Anya said the priests came, or back towards Lucian's laboratory, taking the other path at the fork? She did have her knife back, but how many priests could be waiting for her? Faint wisps of smoke reached her nose.

"Done," Anya said from behind her.

"Good." Taking the keys, Katrine motioned the children forward to listen. "All right, everyone—"

One bit back a shriek, stumbling backward. Willem twisted the doll in his hands. A few stepped back, wide-eyed.

"Your neck! It's bleeding!" Netty exclaimed.

Katrine touched her neck. Her fingertips slid on her skin and came away slick with blood. But she wasn't, there was no— She looked down. Her previously white shirt was crimson, her jacket covered in spatters. His blood, Lucian's blood, all over her, blood that had flowed in his hands and arms, that venom now seeping into her skin. Shuddering, she squeezed her arms to calm herself. "It's not mine! We're getting out of here. You all follow me and be quiet. I don't want to hear a word out of you. Understand?"

They nodded.

Katrine jammed the keys into her waistband, grabbed Anya's arm, and started for the right. She at least had a fighting chance against humans. Once her back was turned to them, she withdrew the knife from its sheath. The once-pristine blade was now mottled with red; she wondered dully whether it had looked like this in Levi's hand.

They turned a corner and darkness swallowed them. Katrine trailed her fingers along the wall, fixing her gaze on the flickering light coming from the end of the hallway. The black air was dense and silent, broken only by their shuffling footsteps and that tiny light.

Her fingers hit air and she halted. Someone bumped into her legs as her hand curled around a metal bar. A gasp, a shuffle.

"Wait here," she whispered and dashed ahead. The tunnel stretched as she ran, growing longer and longer as the light bobbed weakly in the distance. There's more, of course there would be more. Finally, the gas lamp appeared at the corner of the tunnel and she lifted it from the wall, quickly searching the next dark hallway for any enemies. Then she dashed back to the group and, with a soft curse, confirmed her fears.

The children in this cell looked the same as the others: dirt-streaked and terror-stricken, the light of the lantern illuminating wet eyes and bruises. They didn't wear the same white gowns, but the stained rags looked the same as the ones she'd worn that day when the man in the beautiful suit came to her mother's door. Katrine pushed the lantern into Anya's hands and holstered her knife. Grabbing the keyring, she shoved a key in the lock, scowling when it didn't fit. Some other priest could have the keys to this cell, she realized with sinking dread as others refused to budge. They're going to burn still shackled to this damn wall—

The door clicked open.

Biting back a triumphant laugh, she ran inside and grabbed the first chain she saw. Its prisoner, a boy even scrawnier than Willem, shrank back in fear, scrabbling backward into another girl's chest. His upper lip, split by a cleft, trembled.

"No time to explain, we're getting out," Katrine said, jamming the key into the shackle. "Be quiet and stay still."

"Theo!" Willem shouted, running toward the boy.

"Shh!" But the boy sprang to his feet, blubbering in relief, and Katrine took the chance to release him. Crawling on her hands and knees, she unlocked the rest. None resisted, but they regarded her with cautious stares.

"I'm Katrine. I'm getting you out, okay?" she said as she unlocked the last shackle and pocketed the keys. "Stay with the others and don't make any noise."

Grouping the children together, she counted their heads: six added to her ten. How was she supposed to keep sixteen children quiet and calm when she wanted to fall to her knees and start screaming herself? She tugged at her hair and shuddered when she felt that it was crusted with dried blood.

Leaving the empty cell behind, Katrine started down the hallway again and waved the children along, their long shadows preceding them. She unsheathed the knife and held it before her, while Anya held the lantern aloft like a flaming sword. They crept through the darkness, as quickly as she dared without making too much noise, and turned the corner where Katrine had found the light. Another lantern flickered at the end of the tunnel, but an open door bisected it. It hadn't been open before. Hackles rising, she tiptoed to it and pressed herself behind it, peeking around. Nothing.

"Water! Get the water!" a voice echoed from down the hallway, and Katrine immediately ducked into the doorway.

It opened into a balcony that looked down upon a cavernous space, larger than the stables or even the auditorium at the Mitras Company. The ceiling appeared to be made of crystal, possibly the same crystal back at the laboratory, with thick columns of the same material holding it aloft. The floors were smooth marble, white in color but for the few light splotches of red.

Katrine peered over the wooden railing, searching for an exit. There had to be light above them seeping through the crystal because with no windows, the room should be pitch black. Or was the crystal...glowing? It seemed to sparkle when she moved her head, a great expanse of diamonds above her.

Bending over, she looked below. There was what appeared to be a jagged piece of metal on the floor. It reminded her of the swords the Scouts used that could snap in two if swung incorrectly. There were other strange objects hidden in the shadows: a long black rod, the splintered butt of a rifle, a torn tan jacket with the MP emblem. A broken syringe. Shards of crystal.

Anya tugged at her sleeve and pointed to the right. At the end of the balcony, another door. Nodding, Katrine counted every head and waved them along.

This door led into a stairwell that culminated in darkness save for a rectangular-shaped crack of light. An exit? Katrine dashed up the stairs, pressing her hands to the vertical trapdoor. It rattled against the lock at the bottom. Setting down the knife and withdrawing the keys, she began again the horrible task of locating the right one.

"Stop right there!" a voice boomed. One of the children squeaked.

Heart seizing, Katrine pushed her way back out the door through the swarm of tiny bodies. A man in a brown tunic had grabbed one of the girls by her arm, and she twisted fruitlessly in his grasp. But he dropped the girl when he saw Katrine, his fleshy cheeks quivering.

"You're the—"

She crashed into him. He wasn't much taller than she was. She noticed the constellation of red spots and the pathetic attempt at a mustache as he tipped over the ledge. He couldn't have been older than Mila. Noiselessly he slipped into the black abyss beneath them, and then a sickening thud echoed up. Then, nothing.

Maybe he's dead, I killed him, Katrine thought, her body shaking, fingers clenching the keys turning white and cold. Refusing to confirm it, she ran back up the stairs and continued testing the keys as if nothing had happened. The children packed themselves into the stairwell. They were looking at her differently; she could feel it.

The lock clicked, the mechanism bouncing open in her fingers. Relief and terror flooded her. Removing the lock, she cracked open the door and light poured out into her hands. She steadied herself. Then she swung open the door.

The stench knocked the breath out of her lungs.

The air was thick and soupy, steeped in some unholy combination of decaying flesh, rotting wood, and stagnant water. It stung her eyes, struggling to push itself into her chest and infect her with its poison.

The place was familiar in an awful, foggy way, a nightmare she'd had years ago that she could only grasp tendrils of and left a sour taste in her mouth. Squat, decaying buildings sat on top of each other, jockeying for position in the hazy air and leaving a few pockets for alleyways. Above was blackness, not a sky but some ominous substance ready to drop and crush them. But something was off. It was silent. No moaning, no dogs barking, no screams floating in from the floor beneath. The broken cobblestone road beneath her was deserted. In that clouded mirror there was always someone staring back at her: a gleaming white smile and a dark velvet suit; tears beading at red eyes, a name muttered over and over until it was good as mush.

A squeak behind her snapped Katrine to action. Stepping onto the bottom ledge, she swung herself around and out of the doorway, landing on a tipped-over crate spilling out mold-spotted wooden beams. She held out her hands. Willem's frightened face looked back at her.

"It's okay, I'll catch you. Jump!"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Willem leaped out the window and into her arms. His sharp elbows jutted into her chest and she felt his ribs through his tunic. They'd all be lighter than they looked.

Setting him down, she waved the next one on. "Quickly!"

After catching the younger ones, the older children pushed themselves out with her assistance. Katrine sheathed her knife and took the lamp from Anya, who tumbled out the door and took the time to brush off her already filthy gown. Sid, the last to jump, eased the trapdoor shut behind him after she'd counted all sixteen heads.

"We're in Hammershead!" someone exclaimed.

"No way!" Anya said. "We're in Grand Boulevard."

Sid shook his head. "Neither of those. We're…" He trailed off, looking at Katrine expectantly.

But she didn't know, either. It felt like the Underground. But the lines of the houses were a bit too straight, like they were built with a purpose rather than slapped together out of desperate necessity. No candles flickered in the windows. There wasn't the sickly sweet odor of rotting food and piss; rather, it smelled like a swamp, someplace waterlogged and moist. And most unnervingly of all, no one had appeared. Even though she'd shushed them, they had to have made a racket. Underground, they'd all lived on top of each other, scrabbling for that extra inch of space. Was this place abandoned? Or had no one lived here to begin with?

"I don't know," Katrine said. "But we need to get away before anyone comes after us." The lantern, emitting a pitiful dome of light, did little to ease her fears. She crept to the edge of the building, peering around the corner.

The building faced a dark abyss, stretching out on both sides and leading into two tunnels carved into both ends of the earth. At the front of it stood a massive black carriage. But it wasn't like any carriage she'd seen before; it was sturdy and cylindrical and made of iron, with a strange triangular shape melded to the front and a smaller cylinder attached to the top. The wheels were enormous, linked together with a bar, and sat atop what looked like the tracks back in the mines in Utopia, where the miners pushed carts full of iceburst.

Willem nodded sagely. "The shaky cart."

Katrine squinted at it. "The what?"

"This looks like the carriage we took after that ceremony," Anya said. "It was terrible, it rattled and shook and the noise was like—"

"No one thought to tell me about this?"

Sid shrugged. "You never asked."

"You slept the whole time!" the snub-nosed boy said with a snicker.

"So we're not at the cathedral?" Katrine asked. "They took us somewhere else on this thing?"

No one answered.

Not in Mitras, she thought. Then where? This wasn't the Underground City. She'd know it, even if it had been more than twenty years. There were rumors of other cities started, underground shelters in case of disaster, but they were supposedly abandoned. Only cockroaches and rats lived down there, they said. Flooded in the rains. Can't believe that, though. Not with everything that's happened.

"If this is anything like the Underground, then there'll be stairs." Katrine turned back to the houses. A great yawning blackness faced her, the cavern of a mouth so large she couldn't see the teeth. She shuddered. How could she know that nothing was hiding in there? Or no one?

A shout came from beyond the corner. Another man yelled a response, and footsteps echoed.

"Come on!" Katrine hissed, sprinting into an alleyway between two half-constructed houses. The lantern bobbed in her hand, shadows skittering in front of her as she dodged stacks of planks and overturned toolboxes. She thought she could smell faint traces of smoke. Maybe the whole place could catch fire, burning the abandoned city and the district above it, too.

She skidded to a halt and squeaked when she nearly stepped on the mushy, gray remains of a dead animal. Anya slammed into her back and the other children burst into gasps and frantic whispers. She suddenly remembered all of them were barefooted.

"Quiet!" Katrine took a deep breath, yanking at her hair with her free hand. "Watch your feet. We're looking for the stairwell. You saw one like it when you went up, right? Eyes peeled."

They crept through the inky darkness, the shadows of buildings looming above them, assassins waiting to strike. Odd creaking noises and the occasional whimper made her flinch. Maybe it was a bad idea to go here. Those priests might see the light bobbing. She gritted her teeth, turning a corner to be met with a crumbling brick wall and a puddle of bent nails. Hopefully, the fire is a bigger concern. But when they find Lucian's body—

"Katrine!" A spindly girl pointed to the left. Katrine walked toward her, peering ahead. There! A long, narrow structure extended up into the darkness, higher than any of the buildings surrounding it, and when illuminated by the lantern she could see the steps and splintered banisters. A long board painted with the words Do Not Enter blocked the entrance.

"Perfect." Katrine yanked the board out from between the posts and dashed up the stairs. The shadowed buildings grew smaller and smaller until they disappeared into the darkness, and all she could see was the Cult's enormous building. Crystal spires extended from the top of it, twisting up to meet the cavern's ceiling.

The stairs terminated at a paved tunnel, and she sprinted down it to find a short iron ladder leading up to a wooden door bolted with a cast-iron padlock. Setting down the lantern, Katrine withdrew the keyring and shoved a key into the lock. A faint noise drifted in, thin and reedy. When the first key didn't work, she moved to the next. One will work. It did before. But more and more refused to turn it. It's the last. It's always the last one.

It was not. No key worked. With shaking hands, Katrine passed the ring to Anya. "You try."

But Anya failed as well, with mounting desperation forcing each key into the lock again until the ring slipped out of her hand and clattered on the floor. "We're not— We can't..." Her breath quickened.

"Stay calm, we have to be calm," Katrine said as she craned her neck to look behind them, anticipating someone sprinting after them with a knife and a syringe.

"Your bracelet," Sid said.

"My what?"

"Your bracelet." He pointed at her arm.

Katrine looked down. A thin gold wire cuff dangled from her wrist, three tiny diamonds glittering weakly. Helena's bracelet. "What do you need it for?" she asked as she pulled it off her arm and held it out to Sid.

He didn't answer, but took it and immediately forced the two ends apart, molding it into a straight line. Katrine winced.

"Move," he said, waving her aside, and Katrine stepped away from the door. Sid bent down and inspected the lock. "I need light." She obeyed, kneeling beside him and holding up the lantern.

Delicately inserting the end of the bracelet into the lock, Sid narrowed his eyes as he wiggled the newly-fashioned pick back and forth. A sliver of tongue escaped the corner of his mouth. Katrine held her breath, eyes stinging as she stared at his long fingers delicately pinching the metal; a practiced hand, something she'd seen before.

With a click, the lock popped open and fell to the floor. Sid grinned, finally looking like a boy his age instead of a grizzled warrior, and pocketed her ruined bracelet. Katrine rose to her feet and hustled the children into a group.

"Close your eyes," she instructed, "and everyone's holding hands. I don't know what's out there." Gripping the knife tightly, she braced herself against the door and pushed it open.

Cool air rushed into the tunnel and Katrine gulped at it like water, hurling herself outside and collapsing to the ground. It was damp, soft, and faintly fragrant. Voices called in the distance, coming from above in a strange, foreign language. I'm out, I'm free, she thought, smiling as she ran her fingers through the soft, mossy carpet. Something buzzed in her ear and landed on her temple. Irritated, Katrine swatted at it and it disintegrated between her fingers in a slimy mess. She opened her eyes.

A dense wall of trees surrounded them, opening up into an orange-tinged sky. The breeze, light and gentle, caressed her hot, pulsing skin. It was quiet, not unnervingly silent like the abandoned city, but it wasn't enough to make her drop her guard. A bird sang out above them, and another returned the call. Not voices, she realized with a twinge of disappointment.

"Where...are we?" Anya asked, her head tilted up to the light filtering from the dense canopy of leaves.

"We're in the Enchanted Forest," Theo said matter-of-factly. "Like in 'The Prince and the Pear.'"

"No," Willem chided. "I already told you, it's not a real-real book!"

"We are in a forest," Katrine said, her grip on the knife loosening. "But probably not enchanted."

This was unexpected. The underground cities were supposed to be built under districts. This could be another part of the vast lands that made up the Royal Estates. But if that were true, then why would the priests need to move them on carts? Besides, this forest seemed too overgrown, too wild to be part of the manicured estate. The trees grew how they wanted, not pruned to within an inch of their lives.

The glade was calm, shaded, maybe even peaceful. She knew better than to spook the children by warning them of Titans, but rumbling footsteps could materialize at any moment, and they were just as well armed with toothpicks. Counting heads to make sure everyone had emerged, Katrine swung the trapdoor closed. It was painted brown with pebbles glued to the wood, and if covered with the rocks they'd dislodged while opening it, the door blended seamlessly with the dirt and would be invisible if she hadn't known where to look.

Scanning the trees, Katrine decided to start where the most light filtered through. That most likely meant they would be moving towards an open area, and that meant a greater field of vision. And, a better view of the sun to determine the time of day, even though she couldn't tell if it was early morning or late afternoon. That meant direction, and that meant pinning down a location.

"Top of the class in directional aptitude," she said to no one in particular.

"Can we leave now?" Sid waved a hammer at the door that he must've picked up earlier.

"Yes, follow me."

Crunching through the grass and pushing ferns out of the way, they pressed onwards into this new unknown. Better to be here than still underground. But the air smelled strange. Wind laced with the scent of ashes and singed flesh rustled through the leaves. Gulping, Katrine hoped it wasn't from where they'd just been. It only started smelling this way after we walked away, so it's something else, she assured herself. But then what was it? It smelled even worse than when Livia's skirts, stiffened with wax, caught flames on a gas lamp backstage during a rehearsal, leaving behind weeping streaks of pus and gristle on her ruined legs. The smell haunted the Company stage for a month, a vengeful teacher. Katrine tugged at her hair and shuddered.

Reaching a break in the trees, Katrine motioned for the children to stop and stepped into the golden light. A brush-filled slope led to a vast green field, marred by a chasm breaking open the ground. Massive crystals, the same as the ones back underground, glittered in the deep orange glow as oily smoke spewed into the clouds. Did that entire structure underground collapse on itself? Katrine wondered. Is it wise to go near it? But water flowed downhill, and finding a stream meant finding a village.

"Be careful," she warned as she picked her way through the bushes. Spindly plants curled around her legs, seemingly on command in order to keep them all trapped there, and she hacked at them wildly with her knife. In the distance, there was a dark slash in the earth, like a thick, deep scar. As she rose for a better look, her ankle sank into a hole, twisting beneath her, and with a yelp Katrine pitched forward into the brambles, thorns tearing at her limbs as she tumbled down to the bottom. Blood beaded at the backs of her hands and her mouth tasted like grass. Groaning, she tried to push herself up with shaking arms.

Suddenly a sharp weight pressed on her back, knocking the air out her chest, and the knife was jarred out of her hand as her arm was yanked and twisted behind her. Needles exploded in her shoulder. A sharp elbow was jammed into the back of her neck.

"Where's the rest of you?" a deep voice demanded.

Run and hide, Katrine pleaded silently, pressing her forehead into the grass, too tired to struggle. She held her breath, hoping to not hear any shrieks of terror. Just me. Just me is fine.

"The rest of you," the assailant repeated, her arm shoved painfully upward.

That voice. Impossible. Her heart shook off its dread. Maybe the coderoin hadn't dissipated at all, and now her hallucinations had turned physical. "Levi?" she asked, the hopeful fool.

The pressure on the back of her neck vanished and her arm was released, his hands shifting to grasp her shoulders and push her to her knees. A flash of dark hair, pale skin, the green of his cloak rushed past her as she fell into his chest, solid and warm and real. Safe, finally, in the middle of the woods with no swords or gear, safer than an iron fortress with a thousand cannons. A fingertip brushed the damaged skin of her neck. Something between a laugh and a sob clawed its way out of her throat.

"Auuugh!" Sid burst through the brambles, hammer raised high above his head, barreling toward them. Levi twisted away and slammed Sid in the chest with one hand, sending the boy sprawling, and pounced on him, pinned down his flailing arms with his knees. Sid struggled, thrashing his feet and trying to bite at Levi, who assessed him with evident confusion.

"Sid, stop! He's not an enemy!" Katrine sat up and straightened her clothes, embarrassed by her neediness. It was just my hair on my neck, she thought as she tucked it behind her ears. Her fingers brushed the dried blood and swollen bruise on her cheek and she cringed, imagining how horrible she must look.

"You were supposed to be in Mitras," Levi said, climbing off of Sid, but not before tearing the hammer out of his grip and tossing it aside. "Mitras. Where it's safe."

"I was. Or...I thought I was. Where are we?"

"Twenty kilometers outside Orvud District," he said. "Give or take. Between Rose and Sina."

"Oh." To be moved so far from the capital and not even realize it! She dug her fingers into the ground as if the earth might shake her off. "You can come out," she called to the rest of the children. "It's safe."

The brambles were still for a moment like they didn't quite believe her, but Anya rose, hair glinting like copper, and picked her way down the slope. The rest followed, bare feet snapping twigs, little gasps floating up when scratched by thorns. They gathered behind Katrine, an army of tattered ghosts awaiting further pain, their unblinking eyes fixed on Levi. He stared back at them, his skin growing wan and the shadows under his eyes deepening in the sinking sun. He appeared to have aged decades in an instant, old memories merging with the gash on Anya's cheek and the doll twisted in Willem's stubby fingers. She'd never read such explicit emotion on his face before, shock like a blade had been plunged between his ribs as if such an absurdity were possible. His gaze darted to her, demanding an explanation but unwilling to voice the truth.

"Escaped lab rats," she said.

"Of course." He shivered, but there was no chill in the air. "Stay here. I'll be back in a minute."

He ran off before she could beg him to wait and then die of further humiliation. Once his back grew so small she couldn't see the crest on his cloak, she struggled to her feet and plastered on a smile. "I think we're going to one of the districts. There we're getting hot food and baths. Can you all make it just a little longer? I promise, no more danger."

"He hit Sid," one complained.

"Sid ran at him with a hammer! He's a Scout. Like me."

"You said you're a Scout, but you wear the MP jacket," Netty said. "So if he wears the Scout cloak, then he must be an MP."

"No, it was only me! Stop thinking so hard." After making sure he really was gone, Katrine pulled out the mirror from her waistband. Taking a steadying breath, she opened it, took one look at her reflection, and groaned in horror. Blood had turned her white shirt dark crimson, and splatters and cuts dotted the collar of her jacket. A plum-sized bruise, mottled and swollen, had formed on her cheek and caused her left eye to appear half-closed; it gave her an addled expression. Her lips, pale and bitten, had vestiges of red streaked at their edges. Tendrils of hair escaped from her now-frizzy braid floated away from her face. "None of you thought to tell me I looked like death warmed over?" she cried. The children were unsympathetic. Katrine swiped at her lips, the worst offender, and with an angry click closed the mirror and shoved it back into her waistband.

"Wardman!" Levi shouted in the distance. "Go back and bring a wagon! No, two!"

"Yes, sir!" A small dark figure in the horizon mounted his horse and galloped away.

"Anya, Sid." Katrine went to retrieve her knife, waving the two away from the others. The hammer was back in Sid's grasp and he tapped the metal rhythmically against his palm. She dragged her fingers through her hair, trying not to look at Anya's cut as she braided her hair, which was certainly going to scar. "When we get back, someone's going to want to know what happened. And when they ask, I'm the one who killed Lucian. It's better that way. I'm a soldier, trained for it, and I'll say I was protecting you. No one wants a kid who can kill a man twice their size, especially from the Underground." Anya nodded, relieved; Sid continued to fiddle with his hammer and glared at the quickly-approaching Levi.

"We're going back to Orvud," Levi said, panting. "Erwin and Hange are there, along with my squad. And our day-old Queen of the Walls."

"I'm sorry?" Levi wasn't one for joking, though stranger things had happened over the past few days.

"Historia's queen now. Old king got punted off his throne. Erwin proved he's a fake. Whole council got caught with their hands down their pants, too. So now we've got a ruler half our age."

"They were ready to hang him! I saw the gallows! And I heard the rest of the Scouts were arrested, on suspicion of treason."

"This isn't even the deepest crock of shit he's pulled himself out of," Levi said, scoffing. "Everyone else got dragged to Mitras for questioning. But now that the word's out about Fritz, they're probably twiddling their thumbs waiting for the coronation. Could've been you, had you not been playing MP."

"It was a ploy! Erwin knew! It was his idea!"

"I know. Stop shouting."

"You knew? This whole time?" Katrine tugged at her torn jacket.

"Yeah, I dragged it out of him. Good show, though. Very dramatic. Almost got me."

She ignored the goosebumps running down her back. "You still attacked me. Surprised you didn't break my arm."

"Ran into some problems from some MPs earlier. Can't help being thorough." He started walking and waved her along. "Might as well get going, make up some ground before the wagons come."

"But what's this?" Running after him, she gestured at the hole, the echo of crumbling dirt falling onto the crystal floor pattering behind her.

"Reiss's hideaway." Levi explained that Eren and Historia had been kidnapped by the First Interior Squad, an elite section of the MPs specifically tasked by Reiss to slaughter any Scout who stood in their way, which must have been the very same she'd learned about in Mitras. A few Scouts had been killed in a standoff in Stohess, he explained with clenched fists.

"I heard about that," Katrine said as she checked to make sure the children followed. "Your face was plastered all over Mitras. It didn't do you any favors."

"Could've used them." He pointed at the deep channel etched into the earth, an unnaturally straight line leading away from the ruined cathedral. "We'll follow this back to Orvud and meet Wardman and the carts along the way. But I need to get my horse."

Ahead, his sleek black horse stood tied to a tree, but just beyond it a person sat slumped against a tree, long legs outstretched and head bent as if indulging in an afternoon nap. A man, she decided; he wore a tan jacket, evidently a soldier, but the sleeve that would display his emblem was torn off. As she approached, the air took on that malevolent sharpness, the odor of burnt flesh settling over her. Katrine pressed a fist to her mouth to staunch the sudden nausea, imagining that the priests in the building underground must have ended up the same. His charred skin glistened. "Is he…"

"He's nobody," Levi snapped.

She answered her own question. He was clearly dead, but there was an odd smile on his face as if he'd passed in peace instead of the raging pain those burns must have caused.

"Come on." Levi strode away, refusing to give the corpse a passing glance. "Don't make them look."

Knowing better than to ask why somebody could be so vehemently a nobody, Katrine fell back and guided the children away from the trees and over to the gorge, keeping her back to the corpse. Once far enough away so that she no longer smelled charred skin, she stopped and waited for Levi, reins in one hand. "If Reiss kidnapped Eren and Historia—"

"It's a horse!" Theo shrieked with more enthusiasm than a boy under his circumstances should be able to muster.

"Where's his horn?" Willem demanded.

"I told you, dummy, those aren't real-real!"

"Can I touch him?" Without waiting for a response Anya approached the horse's hindquarters, raising her hand.

"What's his name? Tell us his name!" someone yelled.

Levi stepped back as if he'd stumbled upon a hornet's nest. "Don't touch him. He spooks easily."

"But what's his name," the snub-nosed boy complained.

Levi put a protective hand on the horse's neck, his grip on the reins tightening. Pursing his lips, he turned his gaze on Katrine, pleading silently for her to call off the onslaught. He looked like he'd rather face twenty Titans. She shrugged, biting back a smirk. "Capricorn," he finally said over the din.

"Capli-corn!" Theo shouted.

Netty groaned. "Cap-ri-corn."

"But why can't we touch Mr. Capricorn?" someone asked.

"Maybe later," Levi muttered, striding ahead and dragging the horse along with him. A chorus of whines did nothing to change his mind.

"I'll make him let you rub Capricorn's nose later," Katrine whispered with a wink and then jogged after Levi. "So Reiss kidnapped Eren and Historia?"

"Eren has a special type of power Reiss wanted. And to get it, he'd have to turn Titan and eat him. But he was too chickenshit to do it himself, so he tried to force his daughter to do it." The plan failed when Historia refused to comply with his machinations, shattering the syringe of Titan serum and attempting to free Eren. In either arrogance or sheer desperation, Reiss had consumed the serum. "Real ugly one, too. Looked like a bloated corpse, but bigger than the Colossal. Dragged himself all the way to Orvud on his face." He wrinkled his nose. "Seems like you did the same, getting here from Mitras."

Katrine pressed her palms to her battered, but warming, cheeks. "Shut up. Your wanted posters made you look like an underfed ogre."

"Since you've got a brunch of those following you, then who's the real ogre?" His expression turned sour. "He knew humans could be turned into Titans all along," he spat. "Royal council, too. While the rest of us bumble around guessing at the truth with our heads up our asses. Thought it was blind leading the blind, but it's really the fat and rich leading us in circles like pet dogs."

"The Cult knew, too," Katrine said. "It's some kind of serum they inject. Titan spinal fluid." She hadn't forgotten the syringe in her waistband, that simple water-like substance that could tear someone apart and trap them in crystal forever, or reduce them to a deranged, hideous monster. She didn't want to take it out and force herself to think about Lucian, to think about what he'd done. The gash on her arm, forgotten in the escape, had begun to complain. Later.

Levi whistled. "So that's how Reiss turned himself. But how do they make it?"

"I don't know. Not sure how they figured it out, either."

"You got jumped by a rabid pack of priests for nothing? What'd you do, memorize prayer books?"

"Was the bodyguard for the princess of Mitras for a bit. Then I dropped in on some cult ceremonies. Found out about their plans for the Walls."

"You fall down ten flights of stairs? Or did some priest throttle you when you tracked dirt in the church?"

"You'd fit right in, since you backhanded me over a speck of dust."

He made a dismissive noise. "What plans?"

Katrine explained that the Cult had discovered a way to turn humans into the crystalline substance that the Female Titan had manifested, seemingly tearing apart their bodies before they could turn into Titans. Far beyond just knowing that Titans were ruined, bastardized humans, they'd been devising methods to control them further, crafting specialized weapons. And for what? What beyond strengthening the Walls, if theirs was supposed to be the only civilization alive?

"They'd use anyone, kill anyone, if it meant moving closer to their ultimate goal," she said, and fell silent. She'd left out Lucian, how close he'd been to squeezing the life out of her, the terrible and necessary evil Anya had been forced to commit. Every time his gaze dropped to her neck, the bruises impossible to hide, she wanted to bury it even further. He'd be ashamed if he knew, horrified that a child had blood on their hands while hers remained weak and ineffective. He'd figure it out if she told him about the syringe.

"So," he started, tilting his head up and squinting in the glare of the sun, "those ugly ducklings following you around. They're from…"

She answered quickly, to save him the torture. "Yup."

Levi nodded like she'd just told him about a misshapen rock she'd seen. He moved to look backward, but then thought better of it. "We found some kind of serum in Reiss's bag. Said 'armor' on it. Eren swallowed it and was able to generate the same kind of crystal the Female Titan used, but he could tear himself out. Not stuck in it. Seems similar. Would make sense for Reiss to have it."

"I think so," Katrine said. "I saw one that said the same thing in a lab. There were others, too. Colossal, intelligence—"

"My feet hurt!" someone complained.

"If we keep walking, the faster you'll get hot food and a bed," Katrine said, ignoring the throbbing in her own feet.

"It's fine," Levi said. "Won't make much of a difference, anyway."

"If you're as tall as Sid, then are you thirteen, too?" the snub-nosed boy asked. Levi scowled and Katrine prayed he wouldn't change his mind and make them all start running back to Orvud.

'Katrine said we can pet Mr. Capricorn's head," Willem said. Anya already had a small boy in her arms, his plump hands outstretched.

"Does Mr. Capricorn like carrots?"

Levi sighed, defeated. "Don't blame me if he bites them."

Anya pressed her hand to Capricorn's forehead, gasping softly when the horse nuzzled into her palm, and the others giggled and murmured at the animal they'd only heard about in stories. Levi's shoulders relaxed in slow increments. Katrine smiled, but stumbled a bit as her legs shook, suddenly exhausted. She wanted the hot meal and bed for herself just as much as she did for the rest of them, and then to curl up alone in some dark, dry place where nobody could look at her as she wiped away blood and dust with her tears, sleep for a thousand years with no one there to wake her up. It was both a victory and a defeat, a failure even though the demon that had been curled around her spine for years now rested in a grave reduced to cinders.

"Does that hurt?" Levi asked.

Katrine blinked, jarred out of her thoughts. "What?"

"Your neck."

She realized she'd been tracing the throbbing skin with her fingers, heat still pulsing beneath it. She dropped her hand. "It's fine. Not that bad."

He nodded, shoulders tensing again.

Satisfied, the children ran into the field, stretching their one-shackled limbs and running for the joy of it rather than necessity. A few peals of laughter rang out, quickly silenced out of habit, but then grew louder and stronger. Katrine watched them, then surreptitiously turned her gaze on Levi. He wore an odd expression, one she couldn't name; not angry, not melancholy, but almost like something he'd guessed at had turned out right, a wager placed and won. Strange, indeed.

"I don't know where they're supposed to go after this," she said. They'd forgotten about her, lolling about on the ground and ripping out blades of grass to throw at each other. "To go from the Underground to nearly being killed just for some sick experiment, and then all the way up here? Seeing it's real and then falling right back down to where they started? That's enough to kill you for real."

"Historia grew up an orphan, too. She's always had sympathy for the abandoned. She'll take one look at these brats and drown herself crying."

"People change. Especially when handed so much power." Even if the old royal council was gone, a new one would take its place. There was no guarantee it would be any better. Maybe they didn't have to go back to Orvud to be torn apart again. They could stay in the grass forever, in an infinite sunset, stroking Capricorn's mane and squealing over birds and bugs. She could go without that private dark place as long as they weren't sent back.

"Fair enough. But you're forgetting something."

"What?"

"I trained her, same as the rest of them. I did it so that in one glance they can tell if my tea that morning was a half-degree too cold, or if the line to the shitter was two people or three. They know what I'm going to order them to do before I say it. And if they know something they did was a sliver less than perfect they drop and give me thirty to save me the effort of saying it." The corners of his mouth quirked. "Sure, Historia's queen now. But before that she was my subordinate, and you can't shrug that off overnight. So if she gets any stupid ideas I'll knock her back in line. Might give her a few ideas of my own. Because I didn't follow Erwin's plans for a coup just for the sake of boredom." He smiled then, slight and sardonic, but it was the smile of someone who knew they'd won, the downtrodden rising to become the conqueror. She'd never seen him smile. It was as close to a physical impossibility as jumping off a cliff and soaring, plunging into water and breathing. Strange and miraculous, like frost erupting into flames, barren fields blossoming. She could only stare, stunned by his light, until she couldn't help grinning back.

"Captain!"

The smile vanished. He raised his hand in acknowledgment to the smudges growing in the distance, two carts manned by green-clad figures lashing the horses to move faster. Katrine doubled over, fingers gripping her shaking knees, trying to keep herself upright. So close, the end in sight.

A small, clammy hand curled around her wrist. She looked up. The snub-nosed boy, looking anxious. "It's okay," she said, squeezing his hand. "You'll be safe, where we're going."

The carts squealed to a halt and two Scouts jumped out. One opened his mouth to speak, but when he took in the bedraggled group before him, it dropped open further. The other regarded Katrine warily like she might start spurting blood if he spoke too loudly. "Captain...Casimir?"

She could only nod. "Help them up."

Once everyone was seated, Katrine dragged herself into the wagon and collapsed into the corner, squeezing herself between Willem and Anya. Willem nestled into her shoulder, wedging his thumb into his mouth. Her head dropping back against the edge, she closed her eyes and let the sun wash over her face. The cuts still stung, but sometime when she hadn't been paying attention, the pain had become bearable.

"You know...what you said back there," Levi started, voice lacking the usual surety. "The backhand. You remember. Long time ago."

She lifted her head. Levi sat atop his horse, shoulders curled in, impossible for the type of person who thought that slouching was an affront. "Yeah?" That wasn't something one easily forgot, a slap igniting hatred that turned into begrudging admiration and then something else entirely.

"Right." He twisted the reins in his hands. "I think...back then, you know, I...I may have overdone it."

"Is that supposed to be an apology?"

He gave a quick shrug, looping the reins around his fingers.

"But I completely deserved it!" A giggle bubbled out of her. "Are we remembering the same thing? Me, fresh out of training, acting like it was a personal insult to be told to sweep the floors. I don't know what I was trying to prove."

His gaze flicked back to her. "Then it's not an apology."

"You can't take it back!"

"Never said anything of the sort."

"You just said— ugh!" The cart pitched forward and bodies jostled into her. By the time she'd righted herself Levi had galloped away, too far away to see. But she was certain, beyond the flailing legs and arms pointing out clouds, that she'd caught a glimpse of that smile again.

Only took my man 150k words to crack a smile, ur doing great honey

And SORRY this took so long, I went back to work and lost 90% of my brain capacity