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"Move."
The knife's already against my ribs. Greywolf doesn't wait for me to agree. He locks one hand on my shoulder, shoves me toward the stairs.
I try to look back. "Where—"
"Shut up." The blade digs in through my jacket. "Walk or bleed."
I walk.
The stairs go down. Rusted metal, no handrail, half the light fixtures smashed. It's an old subway access. The kind the city sealed off years ago and pretended didn't exist.
I stumble on the third step.
Greywolf catches me before I face-plant, but the knife goes deeper. "Careful. You're worth more intact."
"Worth more to who?"
He doesn't answer.
Above us, boots echo off boarded-up storefronts. Rachel. She's close.
"Faster," Greywolf hisses.
We hit the bottom. A tunnel opens up in front of us. Smells like rust and piss and something rotting underneath. The dark down here isn't just dark. It's *thick*. Pushes back when I try to see through it.
Greywolf snaps a chem-stick. Green glow spreads maybe six feet. In that circle I see cracked tile, graffiti so old it's faded to ghosts, a shopping cart tipped on its side.
Then I see the people.
Five of them. Maybe six. Sitting against the wall. One's got a dead lantern between his knees. Another's holding a flashlight like it's the last thing she owns.
She's maybe twelve.
She looks at me. Her eyes catch the green light. They're empty.
"Keep moving," Greywolf says.
I keep moving. But I can still see her face.
The tunnel widens. More people here. A dozen at least. Some lying down. Some sitting. One guy's shaking a solar battery like that'll make it charge. It won't.
Greywolf lets go of my shoulder. The knife stays out. "Sit."
I sit. The floor's damp. Cold. Smells like mold.
He crouches across from me. Up close his face is all scar tissue and hard angles. There's a burn down the left side of his neck that disappears under his collar. His eyes are grey. Not blue-grey. Just grey.
"You want to know where your sister is," he says.
I nod.
"And I want something from you."
"You said I owe you."
"You owe me your *life*." He smiles. There's a tooth missing on the right side. "But I'm reasonable. I don't need your life. I need what's in your blood."
My stomach drops.
"The council bitch said you're Lightborn." He leans forward. "Means you make light without burning a battery. Without burning anything. That true?"
I don't answer. My hand's still throbbing where the light came out. Where it saved me.
Greywolf grabs my wrist. I try to pull back but he's strong and the knife's *right there*.
He turns my hand over. The skin's healed. No wound. No scar. Just a faint glow under the surface. Like something's smoldering inside.
"Yeah." He lets go. Sits back. "That's what I thought."
"What do you want?"
"I know where Ghost went," he says. "I know because I was there when she bought the map. I know because the guy she paid works for me. And I know because three weeks ago I sent two runners to check if she made it."
My heart's pounding. "Did she?"
"They never came back. But they got word out first." He watches my face. "Said they saw someone matching her description. Alive. Moving deeper into Four."
*Alive.*
I'm on my feet before I think. "Then we go. Now."
Greywolf doesn't move. Just looks at me like I'm a kid who doesn't know fire burns yet.
"You don't go anywhere without light," he says. "Four's not like this. Four's where the dark *hunts*. You go in with a chem-stick, you're dead in an hour. Lantern, maybe two."
He walks over to the guy with the dead battery. Takes it from him. The guy doesn't fight. Just stares at his empty hands.
Greywolf holds the battery up. The LED's barely a flicker. "This is what we got. This is what keeps these people breathing." He looks at me. "And it's running out."
I look around. Really look.
The kids aren't just sitting. They're huddled. Trying to stay in the fading light. The adults are rationing. One chem-stick between three people. A phone sharing its last five percent with a dying flashlight.
There's a woman near the back cradling a lantern. It's off. She's rocking it.
"Council doesn't send supplies down here," Greywolf says. "They don't send rescue. They seal the exits and wait for us to go dark." He tosses the battery back. "Your sister knew that. That's why she wanted to find the source. Stop it."
"And you helped her."
His smile comes back. Sharp. "I sold her information. There's a difference."
"So what do you want from me?"
He steps closer. The green light makes his scars stand out. "You bleed light. I saw it up there. When the council bitch almost shot you. Your hand lit up." He glances at the people behind him. "I got forty people in this hub. Twenty more in the north tunnel. All running on borrowed time."
I see where this is going. "You want me to power them."
He nods. "Just enough to charge the batteries. Keep the lights on. Then I take you to Four. I get you to Ghost's trail."
"And if I say no?"
He doesn't blink. "Then you don't get to Four. And in about ten minutes Rachel kicks that door in and shoots you in the head."
I should tell him to go to hell. I should run.
But I'm looking at that kid with the dead flashlight. I'm looking at the woman rocking the empty lantern.
Maya would do it. She'd bleed for them.
"How much?" I ask.
Greywolf pulls a cracked solar panel from his pack. Half the cells are dead. "Not much. Just enough to jump-start it. Your light hits the cells, cells charge the batteries, batteries run the lanterns." He sets it on the ground between us. "Five seconds."
I kneel. My hand's still glowing faintly. I press it to the panel.
Nothing happens.
"Come on," Greywolf mutters.
I close my eyes. Try to remember what it felt like before. The heat. The pressure. Like something inside me was burning to get free.
I push.
The glow gets brighter. Spreads up my wrist. The panel starts humming. The cells light up one by one. Green indicators blinking.
Something inside me twists. Pulls. Like a muscle cramping.
I gasp. Pull my hand back.
The panel's at sixty percent.
Greywolf grins. "Good enough." He picks it up, carries it over to the guy with the dead battery. The guy plugs in. The LED flickers. Holds. Brightens.
The kid with the flashlight looks up. Her eyes aren't empty anymore.
"See?" Greywolf says. "Everybody wins."
I'm breathing hard. My hand feels cold now. Hollow. "That's it? We're even?"
He crouches. Puts a hand on my shoulder. Not rough this time. Almost gentle. "Not even close. But it's a start."
Before I can ask what that means, a voice cuts through the tunnel.
Loud. Metallic. Everywhere at once.
"Attention all survivors and civilian contractors in Zone Three."
Rachel's voice.
Greywolf swears.
"This is Agent Rachel Flint, Council Enforcement Division. We are issuing an immediate detainment order for Eli Cross, male, twenty-two, last seen entering the southern tunnel access."
The people around us start moving. Whispering. Someone drops a lantern. It rolls.
"Mr. Cross is a Class-A Lightborn. He is extremely dangerous. Any individual providing assistance or shelter will be charged with obstruction and treason."
I look at Greywolf. His jaw's tight.
"Council is authorized to use lethal force. Bring him in alive if possible. Neutralize if necessary."
The broadcast cuts.
The tunnel goes quiet.
Then everyone's looking at me.
Greywolf stands. Pulls the knife. But this time it's not pointed at me. It's pointed at the tunnel entrance. "Change of plans. We go now."
"What about them?" I nod at the others.
He looks back. His face is unreadable. "They'll be fine. Council doesn't care about survivors. They care about you."
He grabs my arm. Drags me toward a side passage I didn't see before.
Behind us, boots. Heavy. Multiple sets.
Rachel's coming.
"Move," Greywolf says.
We run.
The passage narrows. Walls close in. I hear water dripping. Hear my own breathing. Hear Rachel shouting orders behind us.
Greywolf pulls me left. Then right. Then down another set of stairs. The chem-stick's almost dead. The green light's fading.
We hit a door. Greywolf kicks it open.
On the other side is dark. Real dark. The kind that eats light.
Zone Four.
Greywolf looks at me. In the dying glow I see something in his face. Not fear. Calculation. "You want Ghost. She's in there. But the council wants your blood bad enough to broadcast it." He leans close. "So before we go any deeper, you're gonna tell me why."
Behind us Rachel's voice echoes. She's close.
I look at the door. At the dark beyond it. At Greywolf's grey eyes waiting for an answer I don't have.
"I don't know," I say.
He stares at me. Then he laughs. Low. Bitter. "Then we're both dead."
And he shoves me through the door.