Free City of Burning Shadows (Apocrypha: The Dying World) by Barbara J. Webb Page A

splotches. “What’s that?” I asked.
    “A different project.” Amelia pressed her hand against the screen and it went dark. “Nothing you need to worry about right now.”
    As though curiosity could be sated with such assurances. But Amelia’s whole being radiated impatience this morning. Not the time to argue. “So what should I be worried about?”
    With a swipe of her finger, Amelia brought up a picture of the Crescent. “You did a good job last night. Vivian gave a full report. I’m impressed.” She turned to face me. “But we’ve only just gotten started. We need Spark’s invention up and running, and fast.”
    “How fast?” I asked the question despite being sure I wasn’t going to like the answer.
    “The council’s kept this information secure, but it’s only a matter of time before it gets out. At current rationing levels, Miroc has about another four months. Maybe less.”
    I thought of the reservoir, so closely guarded. Of the protesters—the Children of Miroc, especially—who were convinced the council was keeping vast stores of water hidden and out of reach of the people who needed it.  
    As if she read my mind, Amelia swiped the screen again to bring up a man’s face. This one I recognized. “That’s one of the Children of Miroc. I’ve seen him on the news.”
    “He’s the other side of our problem. This is what Iris has been working on, but I’m afraid it’s going to have bearing on your case as well.”
    She pulled up a collage of images, pointing to them as she talked. “This is the murder investigation Copper told you about, the one we’ve been working on. About a month ago, we were brought in to investigate. The aide of a prominent city council member was found dead in his home. Shot.” She tapped the first picture she’d brought up, the leader of the protesters.  
    “Evidence pointed us to the Children of Miroc.” She circled several news shots of masses of people in the street, obviously shouting. “You’ve seen their protests. We think they’ve been plotting worse.”
    The last picture was familiar to me. A publicity photo that had gone around several months ago. The city council, seated around a table, working hard to solve Miroc’s problems. “Last night, an actual city councilor died.”
    I took a guess. “It was the councilor who’d been talking to Copper and Spark. The one whose aide was killed.”
    Amelia nodded approval. “This time, no obvious cause of death. But I don’t believe it’s a coincidence.”
    She swiped the screen blank, then sat on the edge of her desk, facing me. “We need to know precisely when Spark took her proposal to the council. We need to know every single person she and Copper talked to.”
    I thought I could see where this was going. “But it’s the Jansynians who are after Spark. If you think the Children of Miroc are responsible for the council murders—”
    Amelia shook her head, her disappointed expression silencing me. “Think harder. We’ve got a volatile group of angry people, growing by the day. We’ve got the council trying to hold the city together. But what if someone on the outside is trying to manipulate the situation, trying to prod them into outright violence against each other?”
    The Jansynians had tried to kill Spark. They obviously weren’t above assassination attempts. Planting evidence was certainly something they could and would do. The only question was: “Why? What do they gain if the city falls apart?”
    “I don’t know.” Amelia crossed her arms, frowning, but this time, not at me. “But especially given what Spark said about the rain project suddenly not moving forward—it all looks suspicious.”
    Suspicious maybe, but it didn’t make any sense. I opened my mouth to argue, but second thoughts held me back. What did I really know? Just because I’d been with Seana didn’t mean I understood all Jansynians everywhere. And even if I couldn’t see the profit in them trying to tear