Juliette darted fast across the road, moving from the mouth of one alley to another before the soldiers at the tram light could sight her. Benedikt was fast behind her, though he winced when he slowed to a walk, the two of them picking their way through the narrow passageway.
“Are you injured?”
“Twisted my ankle, but it’s fine. I thought we already knew the monsters transformed with water.”
Juliette crouched when they came to the end of the alley, listening for sound. Soldiers patrolling along the left, but the right turned into a narrower walkway. It would take them farther from the safe house, but it was a better option than getting caught. She waved for Benedikt to hurry.
“Do we?” she questioned. “I saw one man splash something into his face on the train. We know that these monsters are different from the first, and even at the end, Paul managed to make alterations with how much water was necessary for Qi Ren’s transformation. The new ones are transforming at will. We can’t bet on it.”
Which was why they were going to the safe house to free Rosalind and demand the information she held. They hadn’t asked the right questions the first time, and then they had been interrupted by General Shu’s appearance. Now Juliette knew better; now Juliette was setting aside her own feelings of betrayal, single-minded in getting one answer.
“If it is not water,” Benedikt said, “then what?”
Juliette sighed. “I haven’t a clue. But there’s more to it—I can feel it.”
Benedikt’s plan was so strange that it seemed like it might just work. If Roma, Alisa, and Marshall were being hauled to public execution, it had to be outdoors to allow a crowd to gather. But now, after full-scale revolution, there were so few parts of the city where any gathering could be made that the only likely place was Zhabei, with armed workers standing guard.
The Communist effort—and their workers—were following Dimitri because he was supplying monetary funds and ammunition.
But they did not know how he had acquired them. They did not know he had used monsters to blackmail the gangs in Shanghai, and they did not know that he controlled such monsters. The people of Shanghai, though they had bravely fought a revolution, were still afraid of his monsters.
“So we incite chaos,” Benedikt had explained. “The monsters must be standing guard as men. Dimitri wouldn’t miss an opportunity to bring them. He needs the extra protection if Nationalists catch wind of what is happening, but they must blend in too. Force them all to transform, and the civilians on scene will panic. They run, they collide with the armed workers, and they distract everyone long enough that no one can stop us as we swoop in, grab the prisoners, and leave.”
But what if it doesn’t work?
“We’re here.”
Juliette paused. When there didn’t seem to be activity on the street, she stepped out and approached the safe house building. It was strange—it looked so different since the last time she had seen it, but nothing had changed. It was only the city that kept changing.
“Go on,” Benedikt said.
Juliette shook herself out of her daze. There was no use standing here, staring at the door. She reached for the knob and pushed through.
Inside, as light flooded into the apartment, Rosalind straightened up immediately, blinking hard. She looked weary, having been deprived of food and water for two days. Juliette couldn’t stand the sight of this, and yet she thought she had it in her to force something out of her cousin?
She approached Rosalind’s chair. Without a word, she started to untie the bindings.
“What has happened?” Rosalind croaked. “I heard gunfire. So much gunfire.”
Juliette couldn’t get her fingers around one of the knots. Her hands were shaking, and when Benedikt touched her shoulder, she stepped away, letting him take on the task instead.
The safe house was too dark. Juliette tugged hard on one of the panels nailed over the window, and when it chipped off, a triangular stream of fading gray light poured into the space. The sun would be setting soon. Nightfall was coming.
“The purge started,” Juliette said, her voice hoarse. “The workers managed to gather their forces and march in protest. Nationalists fired on them. The bodies still haven’t been cleared.”
Rosalind didn’t speak. When Juliette turned around, her cousin’s expression was gaunt.
“And Celia?”
Juliette started, not expecting the switch in names. She supposed it was apt. Kathleen would never have joined the workers’ efforts. That was all Celia, through and through.