Chapter 20 · The Stolen Lives

The tracker went dark.

Aiden stared at his wrist, blood still sticky on his fingers from where the soul thread had torn through his chest. The bars that had been glowing green for three centuries—two hundred and forty-seven lives saved, two hundred and forty-seven debts paid—blinked once. Twice.

Then they died. One by one. Like someone was flipping switches in reverse.

"No." His voice came out hoarse. "No, that's not—"

"Aiden." Leah grabbed his arm, her timer flashing 11:47:32 in the dark of the storage room. "What's happening?"

Vera stood by the door, crowbar still in her translucent hands. Through the crack they could hear the collectors outside, their footsteps slow and patient. They weren't leaving. They were waiting.

Aiden twisted his wrist, trying to wake the tracker up. Pressed the edge. Shook it. The bars stayed black. Two hundred and forty-seven lives. Gone. Just like that.

"They're taking them back," he said. The words tasted like ash. "The Council. They're erasing every debt I paid."

Ink landed on his shoulder, feathers pressed flat. "Can they do that?"

"They just did." Aiden's chest burned where the soul thread had hooked him.