Solara slammed their residence door shut and leaned against it. Her slender nose bunched along with her rosy lips like she'd somehow failed. Runan's thoughts jumped from them to his sister's plan ever since the queen had pardoned them and put them up in a room in the servant's tower overnight. He stood from the comfortable couch to approach her.

"Ju'rah's taking the fall for the robbery," she blurted.

"They have to pin it on someone."

She lowered her voice. "Do you remember the state we left him in?"

The blood drained from Runan's face, and his heart hammered. "We have to tell her." Scratching at his neck, he paced the room. "Why didn't we mention it yesterday?"

"I didn't trust it was her yet. It could have been anyone with her memories."

He hadn't considered that. The thrill of Ita, alive and as determined as ever, blurred any other prospect. But Solara was right. They needed to be cautious. "What should we do?"

She took a deep breath and massaged her temples. "Since we don't know he's still in that state, we'll only explain it if we have to. There's no use upsetting and distracting her over a possibility."

"A possibility? Can a person wake up from that?"

Solara stepped farther into the room toward the large, blank display screen on the wall. "Do you think she did all of this without Ju'rah's knowledge? She must have shared some of it, maybe how to jump."

"Would he really try it?"

"I hope so. Otherwise, his state would have made the news yesterday. Her reaction would have been different if she'd known." Her fingers traced the curves on her wooden necklace.

Runan stood in front of Solara, inhaling her rosemary scent and forcing his hands, which itched to run through her shiny, ash brown hair, to stay still. "I'd be lost without you, Sola."

Her expression crumbled at his words, and her gaze rested on her runners. "I'm dangerous to have around. I stole Ju'rah's mind, got Enesito shot, and I'm helping you mislead your sister."

Runan took her dainty hands in his rough ones, caressing her soft fingers with his. She relaxed her muscles and exhaled.

"You investigated a death and did everything in your power to find the truth. You followed Ju'rah's wishes to keep going through his memories, you got help when it grew dangerous, and you tried to talk sense into your crazy ex when he held you hostage."

Solara's light brown eyes met his, specks of hazel glowing in the overhead lights. Their earthy warmth comforted him despite the tears forming in them.

"You're amazing, Sola. Letting you slip out of my life was the stupidest thing I've ever done," Runan's words rushed toward the end to match his heartbeat.

Her lip trembled, and she looked at her bare feet. "Now's not the time."

"I spent years waiting for the right time. It doesn't exist."

His palms were sweating, and his face burned. When Solara refused to meet his gaze, he stepped away and sighed. He dug through the closet for out a bright sweater to pull over the borrowed servant's clothes. The material was soft yet slippery and not altogether comfortable, another irritant on his skin.

"Are you ready to go then?" Runan asked more gruffly than he intended.

Solara nodded and followed him out the front door. Despite being in a corridor, they walked with an awkward distance between them, like an invisible bull swung its horns from side to side. One moment, he beat himself up wishing he'd told her how he felt, and now that he somewhat had, she wanted none of it. It stung as strong as it did when he'd end their friendship years ago.

They reached the balcony terrace. Past automatic glass doors lay the sweeping view of the Caldozzan valley: the Upper's towering offices and apartments sitting near the cliff's edge and Lower Caldozza almost hidden from their angle. A blight the Uppers seldom had to acknowledge. The low morning sun rose higher each minute, its strength amplified at this altitude.

A young girl played with a metallic dog who barked and moved as convincingly as its living counterpart. She tossed it a ball that bounced off the floor and over the glass balcony fence. An invisible force field bounced the object back. The dog bounded up, catching its target mid-air, then floated to the girl. She turned, revealing red blisters on her face and arms. Solara gasped and hustled over.

"Are you all right?" Solara asked.

Before she could reach the child, a tall, slim woman bustled over from inside and ushered the girl in the building. The stranger cast Solara and Runan narrow-eyed glares as she sheltered her daughter. Her skin had red patches but not the painful-looking blisters her child sported.

"I told you to stay inside. It's not safe out here now," the woman said before the doors closed.

As he reached the round, four-seater pods, Runan shook his head. "The Uppers act like we're contagious when they're the sickest ones."

"Maybe it's how they're used to interacting."

"Or you're being dangerously optimistic. If they think we're a parasite, someone will come after us."

"We have the queen's pardon and welcome for the day. Her strong reputation will protect us."

Solara had spent last night reading as much as she could off the hologram watches while Runan had studied the surrounding terrain from the comfort of their balcony. The only way back to Lower Caldozza involved a substantial drop or hiking up and over several mountain peaks.

The travel pod opened up and Runan gestured for Solara to take a seat first. After scanning her wristwatch, the vehicle speakers called out. "Your presence is requested in the royal dining hall. Estimated arrival time, three minutes."

The pod hovered across the rocky terrain below and approached the large stone-coloured mansion sitting on stilts at the cliff's edge. Long glass corridors connected three warped, circular buildings. Red flags with the royal crest: two swords with wings on either side blew in the strong wind. Despite the weather, they cruised along smoothly.

Unlike the housing building, sloped roof and glass windows sheltered the dining hall pod station from the sun. They retracted as the pod approached to allow them entry. As Solara and Runan stepped out of the vehicle, the breeze caught their clothes and hair until the window raised to block it. Six guards armed with similar shock sticks to the Uppers who'd ventured into Lower-Caldozza scrutinized them. The employees scanned Runan and Solara's watches and let them pass without exchanging a word.

After the couple entered the glass hallway and turned left as their watches showed, whispers filled the fall.

"What happened?"

"Who's under there?"

"Is the disease spreading?"

Two tall women in fitted red long-sleeved shirts and pants strode in front of a self-propelled, rectangular object surrounded by curtains. As their arms swung with the force of blades, their long limbs cleared a path among the stopped onlooker. Runan caught Solara's gaze and nodded. She laughed and walked toward the centre of the hall without averting her gaze from him. He matched her steps until she was on course with the women in red. She stumbled into the target behind them, and bunched up the curtains, pulling them away from the stretcher. An unconscious woman with charcoal hair, an aquiline nose, and an athletic body lay on the bed attached to several tubes and cables. Her olive skin had more pink undertones than it had at the Lower-Caldozzan docks. Could she be coming back?

"Ita!" he cried out. Heartbeat thumping in his ears, he dove at the stretcher. Her skin was ice. When aggressive hands pulled him away, he fought their pull and lunged toward Messita again, brushing her soft hair from her face.

Seconds later, an Upper woman pushed him against the wall. The hiss of a curtain snapping shut made his body sag. No electronic weapon had taken him down, but the woman's iron grip was stronger than most Lower-Caldozzan structures. Her towering shoulders dwarfed his as she leaned toward him, legs wide like she was straddling a boulder.

Runan rubbed his palms against his slippery pants. "I need to see my sister."

"You have no authorization to come near the procession. You will be charged and tried for your actions."

"That's my sister."

"Impossible, this person has no relatives in Upper Caldozza."

As whispers erupted around them, the other woman shooed the crowd of onlookers away. Their slow movement betrayed their intentions to stay.

Solara's short heels clacked against the floor. "We're not from Upper-Caldozza. Ask the queen or scan these things." She held up her wrist, exposing her forearm.

The woman recoiled and squared her shoulders. "What is on your arm?"

A girl with red, patchy skin and crimson-rimmed eyes jumped up and down. "Tattoos! They must be Lower Caldozzans!"

"Was that Messita? Is she—"

A loud stomp shook the ground near the stretcher. "Enough! You two," she gestured to Solara and Runan, "with me, now."

The woman pinning him to the wall let him go. "Only if you tell me what Messita Zaridi, is doing on that bed in royal custody. As her brother, I have the right to her body for burial."

Solara's lip quirked toward a smile, and the corners of her eyes raised. He followed her gaze to the two eager, red-faced young women with a hologram projection of the scene before them shooting footage from their watches.

The woman closest to him spoke. "Staying in this hallway will grant you no rights. Only the queen can help you and she has better things to do than attend to Lowers."

"What do the royals want with the poor woman who gave her life to entertain you?" Runan asked. The two recorders bit their lips and averted their gaze. "Her memories weren't enough for you greedy, vile people."

As his chest filled with heat ready to radiate across the hall, Solara shook her head toward the women who had stopped filming. Despite how much the Uppers needed to repent for their crimes, he wouldn't gain public support by razing them to the ground.

"I want my family back, to give her a proper sendoff." He took a few heavy breaths and closed his eyes. The moment he arrived at her limp, lifeless body lingered along with heaviness settling into his bones. "She deserves a ceremony, to be at peace with her people, with me, with Ju'rah." The name sent tremors through his hand, which made the onlookers sigh.

Just by suggesting this was Messita, these people's attitudes flip-flopped from fear and disgust to veneration and empathy. How many of them had experienced her memories? Did it create a connection deeper than prejudice?

"Bring Messita home," Solara called and the half a dozen remaining onlookers echoed her, rallying into a chant.

Cool air swept into the hall and guards ran in from the arrival platform with batons extended. Before they could stop the woman filming, the chanting died in the crowd's throats and only one pair of clacking footsteps filled the air with an uneven rhythm. The surrounding people dropped and pressed their foreheads to the floor as the queen approached. Solara nudged Runan in the side so he would do the same alongside her. Only the guards stood at attention with bowed heads and shoulders.

"Lowers, stand!" The queen bellowed.

Runan pushed himself off the clean floor and rose to face his living sister. Not a hint of a smile graced her lips. She excelled at pretending things were fine when they got in trouble as kids, even when their parents passed. The mass on the queen's forehead seemed larger, but Runan shook away the notion as a memory hiccup.

"My residence is not a shanty bar from the slums you call home. You are not heroes. We will not celebrate you. You exist because you are more cost-efficient than technology. One day you won't be."

"My sister is on buildings, her memories earn more than most of our people make in a lifetime. Our existence isn't worthless if a royal has taken her."

"You are a trendy form of entertainment. Your time in the spotlight will pass."

Solara stepped forward. "With all due respect your highness, despite their sparse living conditions and sporadic access to good medical care, Lowers are healthier than the people we've met here. Runan spends most of his waking hours outdoors, tending an Upper supply farm and suffers no health concerns because of it. Aren't you concerned Lowers will learn of your fragile natures and the faulty technology you use to exploit us, they would revolt?"

The guards strengthened their stance, stroking their batons. The onlookers exchanged glances and fidgeted. Solara maintained her standoff with the queen.

"Lowers could never organize such a thing, nor could they reach the plateau without our assistance. To suggest it is a punishable offence."

"I have a contact with information about our arrival, our treatment, and your people. If we go missing, he'll release it to my memory specialist contacts who will spread it to their clients, and their friends until the most isolated Lower knows the true conditions in this place and how vulnerable you are."

Was Solara bluffing or did she contact someone while they were here? Who was he?

The queen laughed. "We must silence you and keep you alive. It shouldn't be a problem. Guards, two of you bring me these Lowers and the body. The rest of you, assure the fools who took part in this spectacle never set foot on the royal residence again."