Page 17

“Drive them out!”

The shouting rose fast, sharp enough to sting. The sound pressed against Maia’s chest. The Umbralyn stood nowhere in this room, yet every accusation circled them like carrion birds. Her fingers curled tight in the fabric of her sleeves. She could not understand the depth of it, this hatred that moved through the crowd. Was she naïve? Or were they?

Elder Maerin struck his staff again. “Without the Guardians, many more of you would be dead! They are not your curse, they are your shield!”

“And the shields are failing!” someone screamed back.

The chamber erupted.

Julen leaned close to Maia, his voice low and bitter. “Nineteen dead under their protection,” he said. “That’s the only truth most people will hear.”

Her throat tightened. She thought of the broken steps, of the falling shadows, of the force that had thrown her clear.

“I didn’t see them standing idle,” she said quietly.

Julen frowned. “What?”

“There were Umbralyn in the square,” she said. “After the collapse. They were pulling people from rubble. Holding walls steady. I’m sure I saw them.”

She hadn’t, not clearly. But she had felt them there. She remembered shapes in the dust. Figures like the few Umbralyn she’d seen, standing steady where others fled.

Julen’s expression hardened. “Helping clean up what followed them.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

The bells tolled again, deep and resonant. She swallowed. The memory pressed at her, the unmistakable shove between her shoulders.

“I think one of them pushed me out of the way,” she said, softer now. “When the façade fell.”

Julen turned to stare at her.

“You think?”

“I didn’t see who it was.” The admission scraped at her pride. “It could have been anyone. Or no one. The ground was breaking apart.”

“But you believe it was one of them. You want to believe it was.”

She hesitated. “I want to believe someone meant for me not to die.”

Julen stared at her, something unsettled flickering behind his eyes. “Maia… you still don’t understand what they are.”

“I understand that I’m still alive.”

“And that’s what makes it dangerous,” he said, voice tight. “If it was one of them, then they start choosing who lives…”

“They were choosing to help,” she interrupted.

“Or choosing witnesses,” he replied.

“Then he chose badly. I’d have been a better witness dead - everyone would have believed your version then.”

She ran her tongue across the top of her teeth and looked away from him. She couldn’t say anything else, because Julen was right about one thing.

She didn’t know.

***