handed the vials off to me earlier, did you notice anything weird in one of them?”
Remi zones out for a moment, leaving Jaesin to watch the ground in front of them for obstacles. After a moment, Remi shakes their head. “I mean, maybe? To be honest I wasn’t really paying attention. I was kinda focused on going to Nova tonight, so I zoned in to the job and went on autopilot.”
I wince and breathe through the sudden surge of fear in my stomach. They’re fine now, obviously. “Right. Well, one of the vials of obscuraz had something else mixed into it, a few strands kinda bonded to it like magnaz would do, but bright violet instead of the usual dark purple. He only paid us half for that vial because he was paranoid about it being contaminated. Turns out it was contaminated, but not with the spellplague—with a totally new kind of maz.”
Remi stares me down with an intensity I only ever see turned on their maz experiments. Got the hook in now. Come on, Remi. You know you want to.
“It’s not real,” they say after a moment, slow and reluctant. “It can’t be. If there’d been a new maz discovery, it would have been announced. There’d be research.”
“It does seem suspicious,” Ania adds, but without much heart behind it.
I bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling. Yes, step into my web. “Well, if it’s not real, then he just paid us eight thousand credits up front to go ghost hunting, which I’m also fine with. But I saw the stuff for myself. So did Ania. There was definitely something in that vial. Maybe they figured out how to make synthetic maz or something. If it’s a new strain, though, don’t you wanna be one of the first to work with it? We’ll get this guy his eight vials, then pull a little extra for you. Golden opportunity, right?”
Jaesin sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets, shoulders hunched in. My heart sinks.
“Why would you do this?” he asks. “Especially without talking to us. That last run almost went really bad at the end. You almost got caught. They’ve probably increased security there if they think someone got their hands on this secret brand-new maz. So why, Diz?”
“Because . . .”
I bite my lip. Danger and trouble aren’t normally a big issue for him. He’s going to make me say it.
Because you and Remi . . .
Ugh.
“Because money is good?” I snap instead. “Because we need it? Wouldn’t it be nice to start off our new adult lives with some cash in our pockets? Enough for that shiny flat in Jattapore you were looking at last night?”
“Hey, you stay out of my browser history,” he snaps back.
Ania and Jaesin do such good disappointed-parent faces. It’s truly unfair.
The next bit catches in my throat, my brain frantically trying to stop me from saying the rest. Too transparent, way too close to . . . everything. But I push the words out.
“Enough to cover what Remi’s scholarship from Kyrkarta University couldn’t.”
I purse my lips, then force myself to look at Remi. “It’s not too late to accept their offer. You could study Professor Silva’s work at the archives there, in the department he founded, like you wanted. With this money, it would be possible.”
Remi’s eyes go wide, and they press the pad of their thumb to their lips, the way they always do when tears are imminent.
The silence falls back over us as the Cliffs come into view. I do my best to fade into the background, make myself small and quiet so I won’t do or say anything to dissuade them from considering my proposal. Ania is trying to send me some kind of heartfelt sad look that I dodge resolutely, and Jaesin, for all he cares about Remi and wants them to have the world, still seems deeply skeptical.
But then Jaesin stretchs his arms high overhead, lacing his fingers together and flexing in a way that draws intense staring from Ania and eyerolls from Remi and me. My heart lightens a bit. Jaesin loves to get his hands dirty just as much as I do. He craves a reason to use those enormous muscly arms. And the money is amazing. It’ll help Remi. It’ll be dangerous. It’ll be fun. It’s exactly the kind of thing he normally loves.
It’s only a matter of time before he breaks.
Jaesin heaves a put-upon sigh and runs a hand through his hair,