Page 162 of The Shattered City


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“We can tell this tale later,” Jianyu said as they finally settled him into a chair. He looked at Harte. “The papers. I do not think I have much more time.”

A DECLARATION OF WAR

Cela’s heart was in her throat as she guided the wagon through the slick streets of the city. Snow was still falling, heavy and constant, but she didn’t have time to notice its beauty. If the people pursuing them had seen the name emblazoned on the side of the wagon, they might already be on their way to the offices of the Age. Joshua might already be in danger. And if any of the people looking for them saw the wagon she was currently in? She’d be in trouble too.

Viola was next to her in the driver’s seat, silent and stoic as a statue. She seemed to understand that Cela wasn’t in any mood for talking. Not when it was taking all her concentration to keep the wagon steady in the quickly accumulating snow.

They smelled the smoke a half mile away, but Cela knew before they were close enough to see the dark smoke pouring from windows that the New York Age building was on fire.

Her first instinct was to push the exhausted nag even faster, but Viola grabbed the reins before Cela could snap them again.

“Stop,” Viola told her. “Park the wagon over there before someone sees.”

She was right. The people who had been pursuing them would be watching for the wagon. They needed to stay out of sight for their own safety. But Cela needed to find Joshua and the others.

They parked the wagon in an alley so the name of the paper would be hidden from anyone who might be looking, and then, on foot, they started toward the crowd that had gathered near the burning building.

It was worse than she’d thought. Now, less than a half block away, Cela could see clearly that the entire building was already engulfed. The snow continued to tumble down, indifferent to the tragedy unfolding, but even from so far, she could feel the warmth of the flames brushing against her skin.

She felt someone tall creeping up behind her, too close. Before she could turn, she heard a male grunt of pain as Viola spun to confront their attacker.

“Abel?”

Her brother was clutching at his chest, his features bunched in clear pain.

“Let him go, Viola,” Cela said, slapping at her friend, but Viola had already released him.

Abel gasped for breath and looked more than a little unsettled as he pulled himself together.

“What are you doing here?” Cela asked. “I didn’t expect your train to get in until later this afternoon.”

“It’s nearly five,” he told her.

She realized then that the darkening sky was from more than the snow flurries or the black smoke pouring from the Age’s building. It was later than she’d realized.

“When I got here, there were already white men surrounding the place,” he told her. “Order patrols from the looks of it. They’ve rounded up the people inside.”

“Joshua?” Cela asked.

Abel’s jaw went tight. “Mr. Fortune, too.”

“Then let’s go and get them,” Viola said, already moving toward the building.

Abel caught Cela’s arm before she could follow Viola. “You can’t go back there, Rabbit. It’s too dangerous.”

“We have to stop her from doing something stupid,” Cela told her brother. “She’s going to make everything worse.”

As soon as they reached the spot where Viola had stopped, Cela realized that it couldn’t get any worse. Just beyond the edge of the crowd, a group of men with guns had Joshua and some of the other employees of the Age on their knees. Along with them was Mr. Fortune.

Joshua saw them in the crowd. He met Cela’s eyes and then Abel’s, shaking his head a little as though to warn them away. But he looked terrified.

Rightly so. The men who had them hostage were too bold, too confident, considering the crowd that had gathered.

Cela recognized their type easily enough. The rough-cut clothing, grease-stained hands, and the excitement that sparked in their light eyes at the power they’d been handed marked them as men the Order had hired. Cela and her friends had been trying to stop those patrols all summer, but there was always an endless supply of white men angry enough to be used as weapons.

One had Ruby’s wedding gown in his hand. He was holding it high enough for the crowd to see and explaining that the men were all guilty of aiding the abduction.

Another placed a gun to Joshua’s back.

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