Chapter 5

My parents returned home with grave looks on their faces. They hardly said anything until we sat down for dinner and Maegan asked them what was wrong.

"Well, we heard news of something . . . unsettling," my mother said.

"What?" Maegan asked.

My father cleared his throat. "Someone attacked a restaurant in the Plaza."

"Attacked," Maegan repeated, like she'd never heard the word before. "You mean like what mercenaries do? And Eliminators?"

He nodded.

"Um," I began. My voice sounded too loud in the quiet kitchen, and I wondered if I was making a mistake. "I - I was there. We went to that restaurant after we finished our exam this morning."

My mother gasped and dropped her fork, and my father's eyes widened.

"Are you all right, Miranda?" my father asked.

"I'm fine," I say. "I - he just hit a table. He didn't touch anyone." Which, I realized, was a lie. But I wasn't about to correct myself.

"Well," my mother said, sitting back in her chair, "that's a relief."

"Yes, but think about it. Civilian areas on Incipio don't get attacked," my father said. "This was extremely dangerous. He could have killed someone - and he could have hurt Miranda, for the love of all the Triad. We're just lucky he didn't."

"Um, have they identified him, by any chance?" I asked.

My parents both shook their heads. I wondered if it usually took this long. Not that we would know - if anything like it had happened before, the System would never have let us keep the memories.

Besides, neither of my parents worked directly for the System. My mother worked for the Residential Department; my father was at the Department of Technology. The System's Officers had the lowest rank, and even then they were closer to the System than any of us would ever be.

My mother took a deep breath. Forcing a smile, she changed the subject. "How was your exam?"

"It wasn't too bad," I said. "I think I remembered everything."

"That's good," my mother said and smiled almost sadly. "I can't believe you'll be on your way to Fourth Level so soon."

"Me neither," Maegan said. "And I'm still stuck in Second Level Academy where the boys don't know how to count to four."

I smirked. "I don't know if it gets any better, Maegan."

Once we had finished eating, Maegan and I cleared the dishes from the table while my parents stood on the other side of the kitchen in silence. Maegan didn't seem to notice. She hummed to herself as she collected the dishes. But I had a feeling their lack of conversation had something to do with the hooded man with the sword in the restaurant this morning.

He'd looked at me. He'd spun me around and looked me in the eye.

I needed to distract myself.

"I'm going to go practice outside," I said, placing the last pile of dishes on the counter. "I'll be back soon."

"Be safe," my mother called after me.

I nodded in acknowledgment before grabbing my sword, pushing the front door open, and stepping outside into the late afternoon light.

#

I stood in the grass, pivoting on one foot, the training sword in my hands flashing back and forth as I slashed at the air, going through memorized motions. The deep blue blade felt familiar, an extension of my arm. The grips were worn under my fingers, the blade not at all sharp and marked at irregular intervals with scratches. I could run my finger across them and count them like tick marks.

Still, I hadn't had a lesson since Second Level. Every stroke made my arms ache. My feet ground into the cool soil and uneven spots of grass, slipping when they forgot the steps. Blades of grass and specks of dirt flew into the air when my arms dropped too low and the sword bit into the ground.

"Enjoying yourself, Miranda?" a voice asked, and I started, nearly dropping my sword. "Are you winning?"

I turned to see the silhouette of Cas Rayner standing against the cityscape of Incipio, arms crossed over his chest, trying not to smile. I let the tip of my sword drop to the ground and faced him. "Not anymore, you killjoy."

"Oh, excuse me." Cas held up his hands. "But your form looked really good, Miranda. I'm serious. I haven't been to a lesson in five years, and I can barely get my blade to move in a straight line anymore."

"Cas," I said. "I haven't been to a lesson in five years, either. Spar with me."

"What?" he asked, blinking and stepping back. "No way. You might actually take me out."

"I promise I won't. Seriously. Spar with me," I repeated.

Cas sighed and reached into his bag. I recalled his weapon before he pulled it out, and when it saw the light, it brought me right back to Second Level. Nothing about it had changed. It began as a small staff, blue-gray, with the hilt sticking out at the end, grip worn white from constant use. He pulled at both ends and drew out the weapon so that it became a full-fledged blade.

"Are you sure?" he asked me again. His eyebrows raised and his lips pursed in a questioning look. His brown eyes went wide with concern. I knew that expression well by now, and I smiled.

"It'll be fine, Cas," I said.

"Okay." He exhaled, like he'd been holding his breath, and dropped his bag on the grass, where it fell into a flattened heap like a rock. He stood several feet away from me, glancing at me warily, probably afraid to hurt me.