Finally, they roared back, “Yes!”
“Rousseau is only the beginning, but we can’t let her do it alone. Follow me. Food and shelter for any who are ready to fight!”
“Unforgettable!” the crowd chanted. “Unforgettable! Unforgettable!”
Bodies pushed upon him, and Nik felt as if he would be sick. He had to claw his way through and out to where the crowd thinned near the river. Even there, Elara’s word chased him.
Unforgettable.
This was exactly what he and Lafontaine had feared. The riots, therealrebellion was at the city’s doorstep, which meant punishment… death… would follow swiftly. The rebels would strike again.
He had to get home. He had to…
His focus snared on a boy sitting alone by the river, his legs dangled into the water. In his lap, he folded a piece of paper at sharp, complicated angles, tucking corners and pressing the creases. A boat.
“That’s clever.” Nik crouched beside him.
“The last one sank,” the boy replied, inspecting it closely, “but I think I’ve figured out the proper weight this time.”
“How long have you been working on it?”
“Forever. Mom says it’s a waste of time, but I think it’s fun. Much better than sweeping floors.” The boy looked Nik up and down, taking in his Arts Humains coat and polished shoes. “Did you ever sweep floors?”
He looked to the factory towering in the next quarter. “Once.”
“Me too,” the boy said glumly. “What’s the point if it’s just going to get dirty again?”
Nik laughed. “A fresh start, I suppose.”
The boy shrugged. “Guess you’re right.”
Then he flipped over onto his belly and stretched his arms over the water. “Here goes.”
It was just a paper boat, but Nik’s anxiety spiked as he watched it settle upon the choppy waves. Any second, the water would seep into the paper and drown it.
But it sailed on, cresting each perilous wave. It coursed several meters away, and the boy sprang up. “Look at it go!”
Nik scrambled to catch up, uncaring of how foolish he might look. He dodged crates and barrels to follow the boat’s journey as it careened across the waves and caught a strong wind in its small sail.
The boy cheered, dipping around a barrel.
Nik laughed as he jumped it entirely.
“Brilliant!” he cried.
“That’s nothing!” the boy called back. “Watch!”
At the bend in the river, water splashed violently against the curb, sloshing back in a vortex that would swallow the boat whole. He winced, unable to watch the boy’s disappointment when he proved his mother right yet again.
Except it didn’t succumb to the waves.
The sails unfurled into great wings that beat the air. A breeze caught the spans of paper and carried it up, up, up and out of the water.
Magie.
Real magie from someone so young.
“YES!” The boy threw his fist in the air. “It worked! Can you believe it!”
