Nine pairs of eyes turned to stare at me. It looked like everyone was here—everyone except Nero. And the Pilgrims.
“Take this.” Captain Somerset handed me a potion. She added in a lowered voice, “No one can make a clean break like Nero. Your injuries will heal in a few minutes. Try not to break anything else in the meantime.” Then she walked over to our comrades.
“What happened to you?” Drake whispered as he sat down beside me.
I used my good hand to pop the potion, drinking it down in a single gulp. “An angel happened to me.”
“Colonel Windstriker did this to you?” Surprise flashed in his eyes. “Why?”
“The district lords—crime lords really—run this town now. People are scared, Drake. They’re hurting. I was going to stop two of the district lord Royal’s thugs from hurting a woman.” I frowned. “Nero stopped me from interfering in local affairs.” I looked for something to kick—then remembered my leg was still broken. “What is the point of all this, of being strong, if we can’t help the weak? If we can’t right the world’s wrongs?”
“There are a lot of wrongs in the world. So much evil,” Drake said. “The Legion cannot correct every wrong or banish every evil.”
“Evil doesn’t come only in ugly, monster-shaped packages. It hides behind human smiles and behind the false platitudes we tell ourselves so that we can sleep at night. I could have stopped those men, Drake.”
“But not all the others, and not the system that created them. At least not in a day.” He set his hand on my arm. “That is a longer war, the war against the evil that lies within us all.”
“Can we ever win that war?”
“Yes,” he said immediately.
“How can you be sure?”
“Not everything the gods do is kind, and not everything we Legion soldiers have to do is pretty, but I truly believe we’re making the world a better place. You have to have faith, Leda, that it will happen. Faith, hope, love—those are the things that keep us going. The things that keep us fighting for what really matters.”
“You sound like the Pilgrims,” I said.
“Do I?” His eyes twinkled. “I spoke with them last night. They are doing what we do, fighting evil and preserving what is good in this world. Humanity has lost so much since the monsters overran the Earth. But we have gained a lot too. You should talk to the Pilgrims, Leda. They can help you remember that.”
I hadn’t had good experiences talking with Pilgrims, at least not the ones who handed out pamphlets on the street corners of Purgatory. They were selling blind faith, and I had a knack for questioning everything.
“Pandora, Football, do you think you could grace us with your presence?” Captain Somerset called out.
I tested my leg. When I discovered I could move it without agonizing pain, I rose to my feet. I didn’t collapse, which was a good sign. My wrist felt fine too. Whatever potion Captain Somerset had given me was top notch.
“We’re taking two trucks. Pandora, you’ll be in the first truck to show us the fastest path to the Lost City,” Captain Somerset said. “Park, you haven’t crashed Legion property lately, so you’re driving.”
Morrows snickered.
Captain Somerset snapped her head around to him. “Morrows, you always crash everything, so you’re not to go near the wheel.”
“What if everyone else is dead?” he asked solemnly.
“If everyone else is dead, then fine. Knock yourself out. But until that point, I’m going to put your talents to better use. You have first shift with the cannon. Shoot down every monster that threatens the trucks.”
Morrows grinned like his birthday had come early.
“Norman, Football, and I will also be in the first truck,” Captain Somerset continued. “Lawrence, you’ll drive Colonel Windstriker’s truck.”
Lieutenant Lawrence sneered across the room at me.
“Vance, you take the cannon. Silvershield, Greer, Cupcake, you’re in the second truck too.”
“I wonder why only some of us have nicknames,” I whispered to Drake.
“I guess only the good ones stick.”
“It’s hard to beat Cupcake.” I glanced at Maton Chambers, aka Cupcake. I actually felt bad for him. He was a really nice guy.
The door to the office opened, and Nero stepped inside with the seven Pilgrims. He nodded to Captain Somerset.
She returned the nod. “All right, get moving. The sun will be up in just a few minutes. It might feel like summer, but the days are still short this time of year, and we need to use every daylight hour.”
We headed down the hall toward the garage. I ignored Nero along the way—or ignored the back of his head anyway since he was ahead of me. I didn’t mind the broken bones; I’d had plenty of them since joining the Legion. But I was pissed off as all hell that he’d broken them to stop me from saving that woman. It was my choice whether I wanted to get myself in trouble, not his. There was this pesky little thing called freewill that he regularly forgot existed. Just like an angel. Maybe Calli was right. Maybe Nero wasn’t as different as I’d thought.
I climbed into the truck, sitting between Drake and Captain Somerset. I was so glad that Nero was in the other truck. I didn’t think I could hold my tongue all the way to the Lost City if I’d had him sitting next to me.
The trucks pulled out of the garage. As they turned around the temple to drive toward the wall, a flicker of light caught my eyes. Two bodies hung from the temple’s chimney, swinging in the wind. Royal’s men. Their throats were slit in cold, merciless strokes. They were killed quickly, before they could fight back. There wasn’t a single other scratch on them. This wasn’t an act of anger or malice; it was an execution.
I looked at the truck driving beside us. Nero met my gaze, his eyes devoid of emotion. He’d killed those men. I knew he had.
“I think he left them there for you,” Drake said, wide-eyed.
“That is one strong signal, Pandora,” Captain Somerset commented.
“But he said we’re not allowed to interfere in local affairs.”
“Technically, that’s true,” Captain Somerset said. “But Nero always took it upon himself to learn the rules to the letter. Because when you know the rules inside and out, you can find all the loopholes. Legion soldiers may not interfere in local criminal activity, unless it pertains to the mission or it takes place on the gods’ property. Such as the grounds of a Legion office or a Pilgrim temple.”
“They weren’t on the gods’ property.” They’d been across the street from the temple.
“I bet they were standing on the gods’ property when Nero executed them.”
She was right. Nero was a stickler for the rules. He’d probably lured them onto the Legion side of the border—and then killed them for their crime.
“Loophole,” I muttered.
“Proposition.”
I looked at Captain Somerset. “Sorry?”