My hands began to shake as the doors swung open, like the jaw of a monster, ready to swallow us whole. I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself. Rebelliously, my hands refused to stop their trembling.

Another hand brushed against mine. I looked left to see Lark there, enfolding my hand in her own, holding it steady so I could not give us away with my fear. I tucked my other hand under the strap of my pack.

The doors continued moving, revealing a second, smaller set of doors, with a large space in between them. Armed men waited for us there. A little way in front of them was a strange machine, and an old man sat beside it. It was round, made almost entirely of wood, with a single metal panel set at shoulder height. Was this the machine that could detect Blesseds? It was big, but it didn't look like much.

Cass stepped forward, a wide smile on her face. "We're travelers from a northern village. We wonder if we might spend a night in this city?"

A red-haired woman stepped out of the ranks of the soldiers opposite us, her posture perfect, her limbs held in a rigid, unyielding way. A sword hung at her belt, and her fingers hung casually beside it—ready to grab it if need be.

"Why come here?" she asked. "There are other villages and towns in this area, more... friendly-looking ones. Most travelers are too frightened to approach us."

Cass shrugged. "We've met others who've spent a night here. They said that, while the welcome left a little to be desired, the food was good and the beds were clean."

"You're willing to pay?"

"Of course."

The red-haired woman's eyes sparkled, deep brown and brimming with a careful wariness. "And, if you've talked to others who've stayed here, I assume you know the one rule?"

Cass laughed. "Of course. No Blesseds, right?"

"Yes. Can you vouch for yourself and all of your party?"

Grinning, Cass shrugged. "Sure, I'll vouch for them, but I think they'd probably prefer to vouch for themselves. We're just traveling together for safety. Most of us barely know each other."

"You're willing to take a test to prove that you're not Blessed?"

"Yeah," said Cass. "What do you want us to do?"

"It's simple enough." With a few quick, fluid strides, the woman crossed to the wooden machine. "This was made to detect whether someone is a Blessed. You'll need to press your hand to the metal panel, and then Gen here"—she jerked her head at the old man who sat beside the machine—"will read the results and tell us whether or not you're really Blessed."

"Sounds simple enough." Cass walked forward toward the machine. "Shall I go first?"

She placed her hand on the panel and waited. Gen got up to fiddle with something at the back of the machine. After a few tense moments, he returned, and said, "Clear."

"Welcome to Zarat," said the red-haired woman with a smile. "I'm Clara."

"Cass," said Cass, extending her hand to shake.

Clara took it, and I could tell by Cass's wince and her attempt to hide it that Clara's grip was strong and tight. Cass turned and stood beside Clara, watching and waiting.

"Next," said Clara.

One by one, we pressed our hands to the cold surface of the metal and were cleared. I couldn't help but wonder how, exactly, the machine worked—whether it could really sense if someone was magical or not. After all, it would be easy enough to make a fake.

Going by the nervous tics of the Blesseds—feet tapping, muscles tensing as if they were ready to run—it was real.

Finally, when we'd all been tested without incident, the doors behind us creaked closed, and the smaller doors in front of us swung open. Guards stepped to the side, clearing a path for us.

Clara led the way.

"You'll have to choose between two different inns," she told us, "the Green Rose, and the Singing Duck."

"The Singing Duck?" echoed Jaret.

"It would not have been my first choice for a name," said Clara, "but it was not up to me."

"We've heard good things about the Singing Duck," Cass said. "If it's all right, we'll stay there."

"Fine with me," said Clara. "Right this way."

The streets were a maze of houses and gardens and fountains. Though the outside of the city was warlike and daunting, the inside felt cozy. Children ran back and forth, playing games, chasing kittens. People called the names of their wares from inside their canvas-roofed booths.

It was a shame that this place was completely inaccessible to Blesseds. I couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if it actually allowed Blesseds, with its walls that were so perfect for keeping out those who wanted to hurt Blesseds and weapons to dissuade any prejudiced people from coming to attack. It would be beautiful. It would be happy. No one would have to hide their powers.

But, when we arrived at the Singing Duck, these thoughts flew from my mind like startled birds. My attention focused on the structure that sat only a few yards away from the tavern where we'd be staying. It was a tower, surrounded by guards and made of wicked, glinting metal.

"What is that?" I breathed.

Clara looked at me, and she smiled at my surprise—but it was a cruel smile, gleeful and malicious and terrifying. "That's where we keep Blesseds before their execution. We've been working on ways to cure them, but we haven't yet made any progress."

"Cure them?" I asked.

Cass shot me a warning look.

"Sometimes," said Clara, "there is a way to convince them to repress their Blessing. Sometimes there is a way to remove it entirely. It seems to vary from Blessed to Blessed, though. We haven't yet found a process that works on all of them."

"Oh," I said. I tried to smile.

Cass quickly began moving toward the door, a yawn pushing through her lips as she paused to stretch her back, which cracked audibly. "Well, it's been a long few days of traveling. I hope you won't be angry if we leave you to get settled and grab lunch."

"Not at all," said Clara. "I've got business to attend to."

"Have a good day, then."

"You as well."

We followed Cass into the inn.

"Stay here," she ordered once we were all inside. "I'll go get us rooms." She turned to me and set a comforting hand on my shoulder, giving me a sympathetic smile, and whispering, "Good job." Then she turned away and headed to talk with the innkeeper.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned to see Bran and Lark there.

"Are you okay?" Bran asked.

"I think so," I said. "It was intimidating from outside, but now that we're here, it's not as bad as it could be."

With my eyes, I did my best to warn him. A few people sat at tables in the middle of the room, and they were certainly within earshot. For all we knew, some of them might be spies.

Bran smiled sheepishly and nodded his understanding.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Pretty good," said Bran. "Lark?"

She shrugged and gave us a thumbs up.

"All right," said Cass, and I turned to see that she had returned, and the innkeeper was standing beside her. "Alec here has kindly offered to show us all to our rooms. Bran and Jaret will have one, Ista and I will share another, and Brinley, Fyra, and Lark will have the third. Any questions or objections?"

We shook our heads.

"Great. Let's go, then. We'll meet back down here in half an hour or so for lunch. Get settled, or take a nap, but don't be late. I'm paying for lunch. If you're late, you won't get any." Cass grinned. "Got it?"

"Yup," said Jaret. "If we're too late, we starve."

"Exactly," said Cass. "I'm glad you understand."

Yikes, this city seems pretty scary, with all its weapons and Blessed-detectors and other things! You know what else is terrifying? The thought that I might have scared you all so much that you might not even vote. Even THINKING about it makes me shiver.