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"Ocean Hill," Cal says, following aze

The co peacefully behind crystalline walls Like Whitefire Palace, the edges of the roof are gilded in ed they seeht Its ink like jewels, each one glea and clean, the product of who kno many Red servants’ toil The echo of construction scrapes and ru only Maven knohat to the royal residence Part of h at such a foolish side of ain, it will be in chains

Cal can’t look at the Hill long It is a distant o, a home to which he cannot return

I suppose we have that in co every roof, watching as we pass through the cool, aze, a fish about to be snapped up for dinner Cal keeps us er too Even in the back alleys, overlooked only by service doors and servants’ quarters, we are still hopelessly out of place in our hoods and threadbare clothing This part of the city is peaceful, quiet, pristine--and dangerous The farther in we go, the tenser I feel And the low pulse of electricity deepens, a steady thrum in every house we pass It even arcs overhead, carried through wire cas But I feel no cameras, and the transports stick to the one unnoticed, protected by a pair of bloody distractions

Cal guides us quickly through what he calls the Star Sector Judging by the thousand stars on a hundred dohborhood is aptly naive Ocean Hill a wide berth until we circle back to a main road busy with traffic An offshoot of the Port Road, if I re Ocean Hill and its outbuildings to the bustling harbor and Fort Patriot below, stretching out into the water Fro of white and blue

We fall in with the Reds crowding the sidewalks There, the white flagstones are choked withfrom two-man vehicles to armored boxes on wheels, most of thelitter beneath his hood, watching each one pass I’m more concerned with the civilian transports They’re fewer in nuh the traffic Thethe house they belong to, or the passenger they carry To my relief, I don’t see the red and black of Maven’s House Calore, or the white and navy of Elara’s House Merandus At least I won’t have to expect the very worst froether, with Cal on ht and Farley onone fuzzy in my head, despite ht, even for me

Cal nods his head in response, gesturing to a bustling throng of people and transports up ahead I gulp at the sight of what is undoubtedly the beating heart of Harbor Bay The crown of the city’s hill, ringed by white stone and diaht blue and scaled with silver, but a few starry turrets peek out It is a beautiful place, but cold, cruel, and razor sharp Dangerous

On theates of Ocean Hill, connected to the harbor and the gates of Fort Patriot down the gentle slope The reality is doether for a fraction of a h lords cross beneath the crystal do over the massive courtyard A fountain twists in the center, surrounded by white and blue flowers not yet touched by autuht onto the realates are directly down the avenue froht of the dome Like those of the palace, they are artfully crafted Forty feet high, iant, swirling fish If not for the dozens of soldiers and nificent They hide the bridge beyond, and Fort Patriot farther out to sea Horns and shouts and laughter add to the overload, until I have to look down at hts at the thought of so htened and frayed, a live wire trying to contain its sparks

"You’re lucky it’s not the Night of a Single Star," Cal murmurs, his eyes faraway "The whole city explodes for the festival"

I don’t have the strength or the need to respond to hiht is a Silver holiday, held into aze tells ht in this very city, and rehter and silk Maybe fireworks over the water, and a royal feast to end the party His father’s approving s he’s lost

Now it’s one, Cal It shouldn’t make you happy anymore

"Don’t worry," he adds when his expression clears He shakes his head, trying to hide a sad smile "We’vehe indicates stands on the edge of the bustling square, its white walls stark against the tangled traffic below It looks like a beautiful fortress, with thick-glassed s, and steps leading up to a terrace surrounded by columns carved into the scaly tails of enorlass walls of Ocean Hill, tying it to the rest of the palatial compound The roof is also blue, decorated not with stars but spikes Cruel iron, six feet long, and sharpened to a wicked point For ainst any kind of assault The rest of the building is the same, covered in Silver weapons Vines and thorny plants wind up the colureenwardens while a pair of wide, still pools hold dark water for nyuards at every door, long rifles plain in their hands

Worse than any guard are the banners They flap in the sea breeze, strea from the walls, turrets, and fishtail columns They bear not the silver spear of Security but the Burning Crown Black, white, and red, its points twisting in curls of flado to destroy And between theilded banners of his own, is Maven Or at least, his ie He stares out, his father’s crown on his head, hisboy, a prince rising to the ultimate occasion "LONG LIVE THE KING" screams beneath every picture of his sharp, pale face

Despite the i stare, I can’t help but smile The Center pulses with my oeapon, with electricity It is un It is everywhere And it is mine If only I could use it properly If only we didn’t have to hide

If I despise that stupid word

It hangs in the air, close enough to touch What if we can’t get in? What if we can’t find Ada or Wolliver? What if Shade doesn’t coht burns h my eyes are sharp, trained on the crowded streets, I can’t seeon his crutch, but he’s nowhere to be found