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didn’t know what he really was, that his being “embedded” here had led to creating some sort of false identity and mingling with the people.
    “No, Exel,” Prof said over the line, his voice a harsh whisper. “Regalia is planning something. Her supposed benevolence worries me, particularly since she’s been sending Epics to try to eliminate my team in Newcago. Don’t forget that she also employs the … person who killed Sam.”
    Val, Exel, and Mizzy looked to him.
    “So is that why you’re here?” Val asked softly. “Are we finally going to bring Regalia down?”
    I looked to Prof. He knew Regalia. Personally. I was increasingly certain of it. They’d been friends, perhaps, long ago. I wished I could get more out of him, but this was howProf was. Years of secrecy, of running the Reckoners, had taught him to be circumspect.
    “Yes,” he whispered. “We’re here to bring her down. And every Epic allied with her.” He looked straight at me, as if daring me to say something about Megan.
    I didn’t. I needed to know more first.
    “Are you sure about this, Prof?” Exel asked. “Maybe Regalia really has decided to care for these people. She’s been shipping in liquor, distributing it freely. She doesn’t let any gangs prevent people from harvesting fruit. Maybe it’s an actual attempt to create a utopia. Maybe an Epic has decided to change and be kind for once.”
    Something exploded on a nearby rooftop.
    A blossom of fire lit the air, bringing with it screams of terror and pain. People splashed into the waters around us and another explosion followed.
    Prof looked at Exel, then shook his head. I stood up, ignoring the exchange. I was so jarred by the explosions that I barely paid attention to how the boat rocked as I stood.
    I listened to the distant moans of pain, and looked sharply at the team. “What is it?”
    Exel, Val, Mizzy … all looked equally surprised. Whatever this was, it wasn’t normal for the city.
    “We should go help,” I said.
    “This isn’t Newcago,” Tia said. “Didn’t you listen to Jon? We need to remain hidden.”
    Behind us, another explosion sounded, closer. I could feel the blast wave of this one, or I thought I could. I hardened my expression, then stepped to the side of the boat. I wasn’t going to just sit here while people died.
    I stopped, though, taking in the water that separated me from the nearest building.
    “Tia, David is right,” Prof finally said over our lines. “Wecan’t let this continue, whatever it is, without seeing if we can help. We’ll investigate, but carefully. Val, do people go about armed in the city?”
    “It’s not unheard of,” Val replied.
    “Then we can carry. But don’t do anything unless I say. Sit down, David. We need you on your oar.”
    Reluctantly, I sat down and helped paddle us toward the nearest building. Above us people rushed across bridges, fleeing the explosions, crowding one another in their haste. The rooftop we reached was low enough—less than a single story showing above the water—and as soon as we arrived I was able to hop up, grab the edge, and tow myself over.
    Here I could see the scene better. I was on the roof of a large apartment building that had a sister building on the other side. They were shaped the same with only a small gap of water between them. The other rooftop was where the explosions had happened; it was littered with half-burned tents. The living knelt beside charred loved ones. Others groaned in pain, covered in burns. I felt sick.
    Prof heaved himself up beside me, then hissed in anger. “Three explosions,” he said softly. “What’s going on?”
    “We have to help,” I said, anxious.
    Prof knelt silently for a moment.
    “Prof …”
    “Tia, Exel,” he whispered into the line, “prepare to help the wounded. Take the boat over. Val, David, and I will cross this rooftop and give you cover support from here. Something about this doesn’t look right to me—too much