There was burning, and then there was burning. It swept the world in a tongue of flame, scorching the earth and burning all life away. The end of all things fell as the executioner's ax, cleaving civilization apart. The only survivors would need a new way of thinking, of living. Like the legendary phoenix, a new world rose out of the ashes of the old, a world filled with violence and hunger and fear. But it was a world nonetheless.

It was humanity's last chance.

 

2: 2. prisoner

The sky was heavy with the promise of a storm when we took the prisoner. We'd ventured farther than we usually would have, in this weather, but we were running low on meat, and if we delayed the hunt any longer we'd be stuck eating last year's venison until the storm passed. The rain-smell rose up from the ground to meet us as our old blue truck, pulled by one of the horse-beasts, rattled past. The prisoner was standing among a pile of bricks that Evangeline had sworn were the remains of a great castle, though I had my doubts. Evangeline was always telling us stories of the world Before, fantastical and unbelievable, filled with trucks that flew like birds and castles tipped with gold spires. We listened, because the stories were a way to escape the realness of scars and pain, if only for a little while.

The other Circles saw us Wolves as bloodthirsty and cruel, vindictive bastards craving a fight. It was not so. That was not Caine, his dark skin riddled with scars, who carried me on his hip when I was a weanling, or Raven, who sang old ballads as she tended the crops. Certainly not Evangeline, lovely as the night and filled to the brim with stories.

This was how the prisoner must have seen us, though. He heard our truck coming and looked up, attempted to run. It was over quickly. Caine caught him and pinned his arm behind his back, forcing him to the ground. I saw his face in the fading light, dark hair and high cheekbones and angry golden eyes. Handsome.

I pushed the thought away.

"What should we do with him?" Raven asked Jamison, the patrol leader.

"Kill him," he said dismissively. "He's trespassing."

"No," I said. Everyone froze. In our Circle, you didn't question your elders. In the past, I'd been fairly obedient- at least, I didn't directly defy orders- but something about this boy turned me into a rebel. There were so few of us already, and his life was not ours to take. It wasn't his fault we'd captured him; the silent fury in his eyes, etched into his tanned skin, told me he'd been surviving for a long time. And unlike the few other trespassers I'd seen, he didn't cry out or plead for mercy.

I'm not quite sure what made me hold Jamison's stare instead of ducking my head and apologizing.

It must've been the eyes.

"And why is that, Isolde?" Jamison drawled, his smooth voice low and dangerous. There was a glint in his eyes that I didn't like as he fingered the knife at his waist.

"He could be useful to us," I replied, the only excuse for my behavior that I could come up with on the spot. I met his stern gaze with a cold stare of my own.

Jamison was hot tempered and sometimes unpredictable, only a few years older than me but already a respected hunter and leader. Everyone looked to him for advice. Challenging him could earn me a slap across the face or worse, but I couldn't help myself. There was no excuse for what I'd just done.

Finally he smiled, but there was no mirth in it, only a cold ice that spread over his entire body into a frightening stillness. I shivered involuntarily, as if his cold could touch me too.

"He's your responsibility," Jamison told me. "You can bind him and interrogate him and feed him. And if our leadership decides that he won't be an asset-" here he smiled again- "he is yours to kill."

A stone grew in my stomach, and I made myself nod, turning away as Caine roughly forced him into the truck.

Maybe we weren't all monsters, but Jamison was certainly straddling that line. As the horse-beast plodded towards home, my only clear thought was: what did I just do?

.

The prisoner's name was Saben. He told us no more than that, and he glared at us from the wall he sat against, his hands tied behind him. He watched my every move, making my uneasy with his unflinching stare and angry golden eyes. I was almost sorry I had spared his life.

I wasn't the only Wolf wary of him, either. The rest of my Circle cast him venomous glances and avoided his wall like the plague. Because I had brought him back here, some of their animosity was directed at me as well. The small snippets of conversation I overheard from my peers made me hunch my shoulders and grit my teeth in indignation.

"...Foolish girl..."

"...what on earth were they thinking, bringing him here..."

"...take care of him before he kills us all in our sleep..."

I couldn't take it any longer. I wolfed down my food and left the main room behind, and my angry Circle with it. I cut a path to the small living space I shared with several other girls, the only place I could think to go. It was usually crowded, but tonight it was empty- everyone was either gawking at the prisoner, eating, or doing some necessary task.

I was glad of the empty quiet, because I needed time to think. Now that the heat of the moment was past, I feared that by saving the boy, I'd lost the grudging respect I'd gained from Jamison and the other elders. In the Circle, everyone did the jobs they were best at, although everyone helped with everything, and for me that meant hunting, patrolling, and guarding the compound. I was training under Caine, tapped to take his place in the leadership someday. Today's patrol had only been my third- a chance to prove myself to Jamison.

Maybe I could've still rectified my mistake- go back to the main, kill Saben like I should've let Caine do earlier. But the same reasons that made me plead for his life in the first place stopped me. There were less and less of us every year- and there was believed to be no world beyond the Circles. We made our home in a ruined city, formed a grudging alliance with other groups, ignoring each other as long as we kept to our territory and they to theirs. As far as I knew, nobody had heard of anyone surviving outside a Circle.

Each Circle had a symbol from which they took their name and their strength- Snake, Bear, Owl. Ours was Wolf. We hunted as a pack and took care of the weanlings as a group, but there was only so much we could do to keep our little world from collapsing. Sometimes, late at night, I would imagine a future barren and lifeless, where humans had no place and the horizon stretched on into forever, littered with corpses and abandoned buildings. It scared me to know that someday soon, we'd be gone, and only the dry, dusty earth would remain.

The door to the room opened, and I heard the sound of footsteps on the rough stone. I didn't look up. At least, not until someone placed a hand on my back, taking me by surprise and making me jump. It was Evangeline.

"Go away," I told her halfheartedly, expecting yet another scolding.

"I heard about what happened. You did the right thing, you know," she said. I looked at her in astonishment. I had defied orders, possibly even endangered Wolf Circle, although so far Saben had been content to glare in silence.

"That took courage, stopping the violence. I wish I had that."

I guess I should have known better. This was Evangeline. At fourteen, she was two years younger than me, but she was like a sister. I could tell her almost anything and trust her to keep the secret. I listened to her stories for hours, mesmerized by her lilting voice and raven hair. She saw the best in everyone, and although she could fight as well as anyone else in the Circle it pained her to do it.

"I- I was only thinking," I said tentatively, "about how little of us there are. Someday, there won't be any more Circles or anymore humans. We can't afford to waste lives."

She nodded, a thoughtful expression on her face, and pulled me into a hug. I returned the gesture, and thought for a moment that maybe, in a different world, she could be truly happy- somewhere safe, where she wouldn't have to bear scars and fight to live. I could sense that she longed for the supposed comforts and luxuries of the world Before.

Safe. That would never really happen, as long as we lived.

 

3: 3. storm

The storm came in the night, pulling us from our dreams back into the real world with a vengeance. Thunder crashed and wind howled with fury as we lay nervously in our beds, pulling the thin blankets tighter to keep out the chill. Greer, the youngest girl in our living quarters at only nine years old, shuddered and curled into a ball, pulling her sheets over her head until all you could see of her were her feet. I wished I were still young enough to do that, but I was sixteen, no longer a child. I needed to be strong.

The compound, a low metal building made in the world Before and furnished with salvaged items, had always held up in the past. But a tiny voice in the back of my head told fearsome tales of the roof caving in and trapping us all where we lay.

According to the few books that survived from Before, storms used to be smaller and usually didn't last much longer than a day, with a few exceptions. But whatever horrors had happened in between then and now had caused storms to grow into powerful, violent forces of nature that lasted for weeks on end, forcing us into the center of the compound for safety.

What had the people Before been like, that they had cared nothing about those who came after them? Who, exactly, were the beings that vanished and left behind a smoking remnant of civilization in our care?

Another round of thunder hit with enough force to shake the compound to its foundation, sending me scrambling for something to hold onto. The storms scared me more than I let on. They made me think of wars and endings and terrible things, and when they came I would shut my eyes tight and try to find something else to think about.

I had very few memories of my parents, who died when I was young. It wasn't that uncommon, in our world. Few people lived to grow old, and my father, who died of an infected wound, had been only twenty-three. My mother, driven mad with grief, had refused to eat or sleep after his death, and was finally found in the weapons room with her wrists slit two weeks later. Since then, I had been raised by a few other members of Wolf Circle- Caine, Raven, and a man named Asher. In fact, it had been Caine who had given me my name.

After my mother died, I had become silent and withdrawn, even for a weanling, slipping in and out of rooms like a little shadow, or so Raven told me. If anyone but my foster family tried to talk to me or coerce me into doing something, I would give them my signature glare and run off. Caine always said that I could as distant and cold as ice when I was in a mood, and so he called me Isolde- a name that suggested the icy shield I put up when things became too much.

No matter how often I asked them, no one would tell me what my true name was.

I heard another eruption, but it wasn't thunder. It was the sound of something heavy, tumbling to the ground from a great height. I thought of the age-old towers of the city, weathered by nature and years, toppling one after another. I whimpered with terror at the strength and force it would take to bring something so huge back to the earth, coming to bits like a weanling's broken toy. The compound shuddered again and I looked up, fully expecting to see cracks in the ceiling, but thankfully the building held firm.

"Let's go to the main," Greer whispered anxiously. When the storms got especially bad, everyone took refuge in the main hall. In my opinion, the roof could cave in there just as easily as it could anywhere else, but it did feel safer. It was better among the rest of our people instead of braving the elements alone. We sometimes spent days in the main, singing and telling stories and sparring for entertainment. All along, the storm would rage outside, but it no longer seemed so monstrous.

Nobody went outside during the storms, for obvious reasons. The rain was thick enough that you couldn't see even a foot in front of your face, and a person could be easily swept away by the winds. Animals, we thought, went into the forest to hide, and only the plants with the deepest roots stayed in the ground.

I grabbed Greer's hand and waited for Evangeline to gather her things, and we left our quarters as a group. The other girls followed close behind. The hallways were all but deserted, the dim oil lanterns flickering as we passed. Nobody spoke, and the silence weighed heavily in the atmosphere.

In the quiet, I suddenly remembered the prisoner. Was he safe, or did Jamison and Caine leave him alone in the dark?

When we arrived, a multitude of people were already in the main, huddled against the wall or lying on the ground. Some talked quietly, some put pillows over their heads and attempted to sleep, and some just stared at the ceiling. I scanned the faces anxiously, letting out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding when I saw the prisoner asleep in the far corner.

Of course our leaders wouldn't have left him helpless while we slept in safety. They weren't like that. What was wrong with me? Just because they had wanted to kill him didn't mean they had suddenly morphed into monsters. The leaders were only concerned with the survival of the group. Keeping a possibly dangerous captive like Saben was only a drain on our resources.

I was stupid, so stupid, for not seeing that.

Greer tugged on my hand, pulling me towards the small space Evangeline had staked out for us and the rest of our roommates. There were eight of us in all, ranging in age from little Greer to Elen, who was nineteen and a skilled hunter. Seeing as it was next to impossible to keep a secret in such an environment, we were all fairly close. I laid out my bedding next to the wall, and Greer snuggled in beside me. She fell asleep almost immediately, her head resting on my arm and her tangled red hair falling across her face. I brushed the loose strands behind her ear and pulled her blanket up to cover her body.

Adele, a pretty fifteen year old with brown hair and green eyes, leaned over to whisper in my ear. "Is that the prisoner?" she asked, pointing to the far corner.

"Yeah, that's him," I replied, leaning back against the wall. She raised her eyebrows.

" He's handsome."

"I hadn't noticed." In fact, I had, but Saben was an enemy, a prisoner who would most likely be executed in a day or two. He probably came from another Circle, like Snake or Bear. Everyone hated him. And they had a perfect right to be suspicious. He wasn't one of us, and suspicion and caution were what kept us alive.

I closed my eyes and slid down the wall until my head rested on my pillow. The last thing I saw before sleep took me was the flame in the oil lantern winking out.

.

When I woke, the world was fractured into tiny pieces, and it took me a minute to remember where I was. A fire burned in the grate, and Evangeline was already awake, playing some sort of game with a few of the older weanlings. She smiled and waved me over, but I shook my head, staying where I was. Unlike Evangeline, who seemed to have an infinite amount of patience, I got riled easily and always seemed to upset the weanlings in some way. Greer was the exception- she was unusually bright and perceptive for her age, and knew when to back off. She was too old to be considered a weanling anyways.

Almost everyone else was still asleep, or trying to be, although Caine, Jamison, Raven, and a man named Cortland were talking quietly around a wooden table that had been pushed carelessly off to the side. No doubt they were discussing the prisoner.

I picked up the tin cup by my blanket and ventured into the hallway for some water. Years ago, when the compound was first built, it had lights that came on and off at the flick of a switch, and running water as well. The lights had died generations ago, but the water still worked fairly consistently. I filled the cup from the faucet in the corridor and returned to the main, cutting a path through the sleeping bodies to the far corner.

The prisoner was awake, watching my approach with a cool, unwavering focus. As I came closer, I realized that his bronze skin was marred by purple bruises, and there was a long cut across the side of his face.

I swallowed around the hard lump in my throat and knelt down next to him, untying the knot that bound his wrists to his side. His skin was red where the rope had rubbed it raw, and for some unknown reason, it made me ache.

"Here," I said, roughly thrusting the cup into his hands. Some of the water sloshed over the sides and onto the hard floor, soaking the knees of my trousers. He drank greedily, finishing the water in a single gulp and slamming the cup down onto the floor, startling an old woman nearby.

"You're welcome," I grumbled, picking it up. He grunted in response.

"Which Circle are you from?" I demanded. He looked up, perplexed.

"I don't know what you're talking about. I'm from somewhere else."

I rolled my eyes, exasperated. "Liar," I spat, and grabbed his arm. At birth, all weanlings were branded with a symbol of their Circle on their forearms. Ours was the rough shape of a wolf's paw, seared into our skin. If he was lying, it would be easy enough to tell.

His right arm was unmarked.

I checked his left. No mark. I stared in disbelief. No way. Not possible. Outside of the city, nothing remained. We'd never heard of anyone coming from outside our little world- until now. Frowning, I let his arm drop and pulled away. The leaders had to know about this. Breathless with discovery, I made my way back to the leaders' table.
They quieted as they noticed my presence. "Do you need something, Isolde?" Raven asked with some annoyance.

"It's..." I tried to explain. but the words didn't come. "There's something you need to see."

"And what might that be?"

"It's the prisoner. He's... unclaimed. He bears no Circle mark."

 

4: 4. discovery

I was about halfway to burning a hole in the wall with a glare when Evangeline found me sulking in a supply closet. The leaders had gone into a small meeting room off the main to discuss, in hushed voices, the mystery of Saben and the mark.

It went without saying that I wasn't invited, although I had made the discovery in the first place. Listening through the door was all but impossible, and if I was caught I would surely be punished. By the time my friend found me, I had worked myself into quite a bad mood.

I looked up just as she entered the tiny room, throwing a rusted piece of pipe at her head. She caught it easily, and sat down beside me, resting a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged away from her touch.

"Isolde? Are you...all right?"

"No, I am not all right!" I exploded, standing up and kicking at the floor. "Nobody ever tells me anything, even though he's my responsibility, and I'm the one who told them that he didn't have a mark-"

"Isolde, calm down. Listen to yourself-"

"Aaargh!" In my anger, I lashed out and punched one of the hard, unyielding metal walls. Blood blossomed on my knuckles, and I gasped in pain, clutching my fist. Evangeline sighed and shook her head, forcing me to sit back down.

"This is what happens when you let anger get control of you. Just breathe for a minute."

I complied- breathing was all I could do. The blood dripped between my fingers and pooled on the floor as focused my breaths. My ire cooled, and I mentally berated myself for my outburst. I needed to control myself- these violent outbursts were happening more and more often, and the slightest comment or infraction could push me past the breaking point. Even Jamison wasn't this temperamental- at least, he didn't throw tantrums like a spoiled weanling.

"I'm sorry for throwing that pipe at you," I said feebly, and Evangeline cracked a smile.

"It's alright. What are friends for if not to be targets for misguided anger?"

I managed a chuckle, and Evangeline squeezed my uninjured hand. For the moment, all was forgiven. We sat in silence for a long moment, and then Evangeline said," I think I know why they won't let you sit in on their meetings."

I looked at her, curious.

"Don't kill me, okay? But even though you're training under Caine, they still see you as only a little more than a weanling. They don't think you're mature enough to handle the information. And if you want to prove them wrong... don't do what you just did."

I opened my mouth to deliver some serious hurt, but I shut it quickly when I realized that what she said was true. How could I hope to gain their respect if I couldn't even gain control of my own emotions?

My stomach rumbled louder that the thunder outside, and Evangeline giggled. "Did you get breakfast?"

I shook my head. "Didn't get the chance. I was a bit...preoccupied."

She took my hand and led me back to the main, grabbing us seats at an unoccupied table. "You stay," she ordered, and ran off to get us some food.

Half an hour later, with food in my stomach and my bloody hand bandaged, I stood waiting with everyone else to hear what the leaders had decided about the prisoner.

My anxiety must have shown on my face, because little Greer sided up to me and squeezed my hand. I gave her a small smile and turned my attention to the front, where Caine, Raven, Jamison, and Cortland stood in a small, closed circle. When they turned to face us, all conversations stilled. It was too quiet, and I could hear the blood rushing in my ears.

Were they going to kill him?

Jamison glanced at Caine for confirmation, and cleared his throat when the older man nodded.

"As you all probably know, we captured a prisoner on our hunting patrol yesterday. After further interrogation-" he caught my eye and gave me his trademark cruel smile-" we found out that he did not, in fact, belong to an enemy clan."

I swallowed and gripped Greer's hand even tighter. It seemed like all the air and light had left the room, leaving me to suffer in the dark. Here it comes, I thought.

"In fact, our captive comes from outside the city."

Gasps and mutters tore through the ringing silence in my ears, and I winced. He was going to be executed, I just knew it. Why did the thought of his death scare me so much? It shouldn't. It really shouldn't. I shut my eyes tightly and tried to use Evangeline's calming technique, breathing in through my mouth and out through my nose. In. Out.

In.

Out.

"QUIET, PLEASE!" Caine yelled. The room fell silent again, and my head pounded so much that I almost didn't catch Jamison's next words.

"We have decided to let him live until our leadership decides what to do with him and the information he gave us, under the conditions that he works for the survival of our Circle, and that if he commits any infraction endangering the lives of another Circle member, his life will be terminated. Please afford Saben some respect, as it has been decided that he is on probation. Keeping him as a captive will cost us too many people needed for other tasks, so he will be allowed free run of the compound as long as he is with a designated Circle member." Jamison looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "Thank you for your attention."

Jamison stalked over to a table, and the announcement ended. I was still standing in the center of the main, reeling in shock.

This just didn't happen- trespassers from other Circles were killed. No exceptions. But for once, they weren't going to murder him. He was on probation- and I was tasked with guarding him. The thought brought me up short- did I really want him free to wander our halls, to spend all my time making sure he wasn't a problem? Saben, the handsome prisoner, as my new shadow?

Yes. No. It made my head hurt more, thinking about it, so I didn't. Instead, I left Greer and Evangeline in the main and ran. Ran through the halls, fast and faster, until the sound of my footsteps drowned out everything else. I caught my breath, leaning against a wall for support. This far away from the main, the rain-noises were louder, and I saw the stormy cityscape through a cracked window at the end of the hall.
A greenish flash of lightning illuminated the darkness, and in that split second I could've sworn I saw something moving in the broken streets. Then the light faded and a clap of thunder that drove the cracks even farther into the glass pane rumbled overhead.

Behind me, someone cleared his throat.

I gasped, automatically reaching for the knife at my belt.

"That won't be necessary," a slightly familiar voice intoned. Slowly, I turned around Saben stood framed in the hallway, his brow glistening with sweat.

"You followed me," I accused, giving him an icy glare.

"I just wanted to say thank you," he said simply. "You know, for saving my life." And just like that, for the third time that day, I was stunned into silence.

His golden eyes bored into me with an intensity I couldn't fathom, and I looked away, blinking to dispel the ache behind my eyes and swallowing the rock in my stomach.

"You're welcome," I muttered, positioning my feet to run. I would've made my escape then, but he blocked my path.

"What's your name?"

Somehow, the question felt like a trap. I tried to push past him, but he grabbed my wrist in a viselike grip, forcing me to stay where I was. My heart beat unevenly in my chest- we were a girl and a boy, alone in the most remote part of the compound. Yes, I was a decent fighter, and I was his guard, but Saben had the physical strength to overpower me. I was too afraid of where this might go. Maybe if I took him by surprise...

But I didn't run. I didn't fight. Instead, I did the unthinkable- I looked him in the eye and told him, "I'm Isolde."

We stood like that for what seemed like forever and a day, him gripping my arm hard enough to bruise and me trying to muster the courage to do something- anything. Finally, he let me go. I didn't wait around long enough for anything else to happen. I was off and running. I didn't look back until I reached the main. If he got lost in the compound, it was his own fault.

The darklings that nested in the compound chirped alarms and flew in all different directions as I reentered the main. People were crowded around the tables, eating and speaking in quiet voices. Nobody protested outright, but the discontent was apparent.

I found Greer and Evangeline at a small corner table with Zan and Caden- two boys I was friendly to but never actually spoken with besides an occasional "hello" in the hallway. Evangeline attempted a smile and patted the seat next to hers, but the tension was painfully obvious.

Caden scowled at me and sank lower in his seat. Heat flooded my cheeks and I looked away, embarrassed. It hadn't occurred to me before that people might blame me for Saben's new status- after all, I was the reason he wasn't dead.

Yet.

I remembered the wistful note in his voice when he thanked me in the hallway, the soft light of hope in his eyes. Was Saben really that bad?

Then, I felt the bruises on my arm where he grabbed me, remembered the strength in his muscles. I shivered, suddenly and completely understanding the fear of others. But of course, if he hurt any of us, he would be killed. Jamison would see to that, I had no doubt.

"So, where were you?" Greer asked eagerly, anxious to break the heavy silence. I quickly summarized what had happened in the hall, leaving out the part where he grabbed my arm- the last thing they needed was a provocation.

"I have absolutely no idea what his problem is," I finished.

Caden snorted in derision and got up from the table, thrusting his chair back hard enough to tip it over. The rest of us stared after him in stunned silence.

"Sorry about that." Zan shook his head in consternation. "He's not normally like this- something must've set him off."

That was hard to believe. Caden always looked grumpy, in part because of his scar- a long slash along his face, rendering one eye blank and useless and slightly lower than the other. Though he was only seventeen, he was as bad as some of the elders. Zan, his best friend, couldn't be more different, with his cheerful grin and joking manner.

Evangeline gave him a wry smile. "He's probably just mad about the attention the prisoner is getting. Everyone needs someone to blame."

I wished, suddenly, that I could be more like beautiful Evangeline, who always knew what to say to quell the anger or soothe a scared weanling to sleep. I was made of scars and uncertain anger, set to go off at a moment's notice. In fact, I realized with no small amount of dismay, I was a great deal like Jamison. Though I was a fair hand at hunting, Evangeline was the better leader.

I scowled at Caden's retreating back and stuck out my tongue in a moment of immaturity, and Greer, catching on, made a horrible face. Zan rolled his eyes, although even he was holding in laughter.

"He's not always this bad," Zan repeated, but the statement was lost on the two of us.

"I'm sure he isn't," said Evangeline, flushing slightly as Caden looked back over his shoulder at us. She quickly set about righting the chair, discreetly watching Caden out of the corner of her eye. Zan's eyes met mine, and he raised his eyebrows ever so slightly.

Funny. I never really imagined Evangeline thinking about someone in that way, especially not Caden, with his scars and gruff demeanor. It almost made sense, though- Evangeline had been the Healer who took care of Caden after the hunting patrol that scarred his face. He had been attacked by some kind of forest-beast, everyone said, and was lucky to have his life. Caden had been sixteen, my age, and Evangeline had been only thirteen.

Maybe that was the real reason Caden hated me so much. If he hadn't lost his left eye, he would be in my place, training for the leadership instead of helping the planters. Saben was only evidence of my incompetence. How Evangeline could ever want someone so bitter was beyond me.

I opened my mouth, about to say something I'd probably regret later, but I never got the chance: Saben walked into the room, and all voices stilled. Nobody said a word as he made his way towards our table with his shoulders hunched, eyes cast downward. Jamison walked in behind him a second later, wearing a predatory smile that made me want to reach for my knife on instinct. Everyone else seemed to relax, though, and within moments the room was just as noisy as before, although Saben was the target of many angry glares.

He sat down in Caden's empty seat, oblivious to our shocked silence. Jamison's animal grin grew even wider as he took in the scene, and he slipped around behind me and rested a hand on my shoulder. My flesh tingled, and it was all I could do not to flinch away from his touch.

"I found our friend wandering the compound all alone. He wasn't gone long, so no harm done, but I suggest you keep a closer eye on him."

A flush crept up my face as I remembered Saben's hand on my arm, and Jamison squeezed my shoulder. I tried as hard as I could to will my muscles into stillness, to keep from striking out.

"Next time," he said, "there will be consequences."