Page 66 of Harnessed in Gold

Rime argues, “Then how do all the criminals get guns?”

“Black market,” Leo says. “Or private sellers.”

I shiver. Rime’s slow nod suggests he’s formulating a plan. Come hell or high water, he’ll be getting his hands on a gun.

I tell him, “If you somehow manage to get one, make sure to practice. You may think all you have to do is pull the trigger, but it’s a lot harder than that.”’

“Have you ever fired one?” Rime asks me, his faerie brain hard at work under that shock of gold hair.

“No.” I recoil. “No way.” But I know several people who have.

Next to me, Leo’s swallow is so hard I hear it over the crunch of Rime’s chip bag.

“What kinds of weapons do you have in Nàdar?” I dare to ask. “Swords?”

“Mostly hunting weapons,” Leo says. “The kind humans wouldconsider rudimentary, like daggers and arrows and blowguns. Nàdar hasn’t been a martial society for millennia.”

“Uh,Ember,” I rudely remind him.

“Except during Ember’s reign,” he concedes with a frown.

“And right now, under Brier,” Rime adds. “Thousands of years living in harmony with nature, respecting it, maintaining its balance—” he cuts himself off with a growling sigh.

Leo is quick to clarify, “Not to say Nàdar’s ways have been perfect, but they were—for the most part—peaceful. We’ve always believed taking a life, any life, has far-reaching consequences.”

“Even hunting for food involves a ritual to restore nature’s balance.” Rime pops the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth. The sandwich that?—

“You’re vegetarians,” I gasp. How had I not realized?

“Only in the Subworld,” Rime says. Thankfully, without the unnecessary explanation.

Leo runs the backs of his fingers along his jaw. “Brier’s ideology is problematic on so many levels, but especially because it gives his followers permission to abuse their power. If they believe the concept of balance is oppressive, then there’s nothing holding them back from violating it.”

It’s obvious he’s being deliberately obtuse and academic because he knows if he speaks plainly I’ll freak out. But it’s wasted effort. In the past five minutes, I’ve freaked out and back so many times, I feel like I’m spinning in a revolving door.

I float to my feet.

For Brier’s team, guns are a viable option becausekillingis a viable option. Brier, the Social Darwinist, has stripped it of its consequences.

“Betts—” Leo starts.

Ignoring him, I snatch up my dirty glass and plate and escape to the kitchen. There, the dishes slide out of my hands and land on the counter with a clang.

I think I might be hyperventilating.

Leo comes up behind me and gently grips my shoulders. “It’s okay, Betts. If we get a gun, it’s only for just in case. We have to be able to defend ourselves.”

When I spin around, he loosens his hold.

“I’m scared,” I whisper.

He tucks a stray wisp of hair behind my ear. “No one’s going to hurt you.”

“I’m not scared for me.” I look up into his deep brown eyes—eyes that should be poring over a book, not aiming a gun—and I can’t seem to swallow.

He gathers both of my hands in his. “I’m guessing the fae on Brier’s team don’t even know guns exist. If it comes down to a battle—which there’s a good chance it won’t—they’ll fight like they do in Nàdar, with fists and knives and magic. That’s where they believe their power lies.”

Power they’re not afraid to use to kill. “And if we find the macguffin before they even show up here?”