An unfamiliar agent stopped beside Facet. She carried a long gun by her side.
“I really wish it’d let us know it could talk.” Facet frowned at Neven.
“She,” I said.
The agent aimed the gun at Neven’s hind leg, where there was no risk of hitting any of us.
Facet stepped back.
Neven’s legs shook. I couldn’t imagine how much effort it took to keep standing despite the weight of the net. She growled once, threateningly. The agent stumbled back, but instantly corrected her stance.
She aimed. Fired.
Neven swung out of the way. The dart missed her by an inch. The movement pressed her farther into the railing.
It cracked under her weight. Neven’s claws scrabbled at the balcony floor.
Then at the air.
And then we were falling.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Facet’s panicked voice—“Hazel!”
Rushing air.
Neven, roaring.
The others, screaming.
Me, screaming.
But—
Neven caught herself. Barely.
One paw clung around the rungs of the ripped-free balcony railing. Her clawed toes stuck through the holes of the net. It had to be cutting into her skin.
The railing creaked. It was only barely attached to the balcony. It’d snap off all the way within seconds.
I clung to Neven’s neck. I was going to die. I’d die with Mom waiting for me in that hallway, so, so close. The last time I saw her had been on the lawn. When we’d taken off into the air and she’d watched us from below. Mouth agape. Growing smaller.
Above us, Facet was yelling orders. “Get me helicopters! Get a metal cutter for the net! Hold on to that railing, don’t you dare let it fall—Hazel! Hazel, talk to me!”
“Given the laws of physics,” Neven ground out, “I am too heavy for this shit. Even if the railing lasts, I won’t.” She trembled. Her single paw could never hold our combined weight.
“The weights!” Red yelled. “Get the weights loose!”
None of the weights were near me. Panicky tears ran down my cheeks. I hacked at the net itself, hoping against hope I could at least weaken it—
The knife cut right through. The net snapped open like twine, my arm suddenly free. I didn’t know how. I didn’t need to. I didn’t think, I just slashed and slashed and the net fell apart, but I couldn’t make a hole big enough for Neven, couldn’t do this on time—
“We tried,” Neven said.
Her voice was tight.
The railing came loose.
Neven twisted in midair. She strained against the net, pulling at the edge of the hole I’d made—Yes! It was finally weak enough to tear, further and further—Then we were out, we were free, and we were spinning, and Neven was flapping her wings with all her might, and maybe we could—
She slammed into the ground.
I got jolted off. Smacked into the asphalt.
Neven slid along the street, half on her side, half on her belly, her legs squished beneath her. The net dragged along behind her, hooked around a back paw. A parked car brought her to an abrupt stop. Metal crunched.
“On,” Neven groaned.
I pushed myself up. Slow. Slowww. My ears were ringing. Everything felt far off.
“On!” Neven pulled herself from the dented wreck of the car, shaking the net from her foot. “Get. On. My. Back.”
Neven limped toward me and another Hazel who’d fallen off and was sitting on the street a few feet ahead of me. She looked around in a daze. Her cheek was scraped open.
The remaining two Hazels sat on Neven’s back, looking shaken.
My coat was ripped. My glasses lay by my feet, bent but miraculously intact. I took them. Stuck them in my coat pocket. My head thumped. Everything still seemed hazy, but—I only had to reach Neven. I could do that.
Agents were running at us. A couple had stayed outside the building with the vans and must’ve seen us fall.
Like they cared.
They were the ones who’d dropped the net on us.
“Hazel.” Neven nodded at the ground near me. “Your knife.”
It lay on the asphalt, the sheath still attached. It must’ve come loose from my wrist. I obeyed without thinking, and I walked toward Neven with unsteady, clumsy legs. I climbed onto her back just as the first agents reached us, yelling my name.
Neven ran down the street, stumbled, pushed off—and we were gone.
When we landed—what, half an hour later?—my body still ached. Neven had managed to shake the helicopters coming after us and slid onto the fourth floor of an airport parking garage, hidden from anyone watching from the skies.
We climbed off her back and collapsed onto the cold concrete.
I took my glasses from my pocket, bending the bows straight as best I could and putting them back on. The world sharpened.
In front of me, one Hazel pulled up her pant leg and grimaced at a bloody scrape on her knee. Either Four or Red. I checked her forehead. Sweat pasted thick locks to her skin, obscuring where Four’s zits or Red’s lack of zits would be.
“I’m Red,” she said.
I looked away, embarrassed.
Red and I weren’t the only ones injured. All of us had scrapes from the net or Neven’s rough scales.
Neven sank into a sitting position. She kept one paw off the ground. Between her toes were red cracks where the net had sliced into her flesh. One thick claw had broken off. Blood covered the entire toe.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Her eyes flicked to meet mine. “This was not your doing.”
“I didn’t cut the net in time.” And it was my world that’d done this to her. My agents. My Director Facet.
“At least you cut it,” Red said. “If not for that—”
“We’d be blots on the pavement,” Rainbow finished.
“Are you all right?” Four asked Neven.
Neven exhaled sharply. “I’m in significant pain. My pride is injured. I feel vexed at those responsible. I hope that summary is sufficient, because I won’t expand on it. Clear?”
Four looked like someone had slapped her. “Clear,” she whispered.
“Appreciated.” Neven slumped to the floor. She rested her head on her uninjured paw. “Please carry on.”
We stared until Red broke the silence. “How did you cut the net?”
