Fear claws at me, but still I fight. The last girl in the hall—Elizabeth, who needs to move her butt out of the trainees’ section—watches my abduction with an air of amused satisfaction. The fear morphs into fury.

    “Have fun, Numbers,” she calls. “I know I am.”

    There’s no sign of Clay, my next-door neighbor. It’s early. He’s here, and he has ears; no way he’s missed the commotion. Has he washed his hands of me?

    I deserve this.

    Go ahead, guys. Take me away.

    I’m carried into the elevator. Soft music drifts from overhead speakers.

    I should have nutted up and gone to see Clay last night. Instead I took the coward’s way out and avoided him. I should have apologized on my knees. He’s my best friend. I should have explained the reason for my choice.

    He should have...given me the benefit of the doubt?

    Is it wrong of me to think so? Maybe. The problem is, someone else’s response—supposed or otherwise—should never dictate my actions. Isn’t that what I claim to believe?

    Dang it! I’m going to escape, and I’m going to tell him how much he means to me.

    The elevator dings, and the doors slide open. As I’m hauled into the lobby, I spring into action, bucking and kicking with every ounce of my strength.

    “Can you just be still for a second?” a familiar voice grumbles.

    Hold up. Clay?

    “I think you broke my ribs.” Definitely Clay.

    I waffle between relief and confusion. Clay would never hurt me, even while supremely disappointed in me. This must be some sort of...test?

    “You aren’t supposed to speak,” another guy snaps.

    Deacon? He’s successfully avoided me since the day of my arrival and now he’s part of this...whatever this is?

    “Sorry, man,” Clay mutters.

    We make it outside. Light spills over me, greeting me as if we’re old friends, warming me from the inside out.

    As we continue on, I bring the map of Troika to the forefront of my mind to track our progress. A Stairwell is used to take us deeper into the Capital of New, where the higher-ups must live. Mansions, mansions, everywhere. We enter a Gate and exit in the Museum of Wisdom. This is my first time here, and I’m... Wow. An Egyptian pyramid, a Russian palace, a Romanian fortress. A tepee.

    The absolute majesty of every edifice dumbfounds me.

    We travel through another Stairwell, then another Gate, and finally end up in the Tower of Might, a city given its name because of the numerous skyscrapers with...loading docks rather than balconies? Flying cars come and go. I shake my head, awed.

    I’m carted to one of many coliseum-type arenas surrounding the skyscrapers and dropped on a sandy ground. I jump up, ignoring the black spots flashing in my eyes and the empty state of my lungs. The masked men remain in place as Levi, Meredith, Kayla and Reed join us; the entire group forms a circle around me.

    Tremors shoot through me, but I raise my chin. Want a piece? Come and get it.

    “Gentlemen,” Levi says with a nod.

    The “gentlemen” in question remove their masks, revealing Deacon, Clay and Victor.

    There are seven people in total.

    Seven days in a week. A heptagon. Lucky number seven.

    I scowl at Levi, the General who obviously issued the order to abscond with me. “There are better ways to invite me to...whatever this is.”

    “Yes, but there was no better way to show you just how weak you are.”

    “Well, consider me shown.” I spread my arms wide, all, Bring it. “Anyone else want a go at me?”

    “Oh, don’t worry. Everyone will get a go at you.” He crosses his arms. “Please tell me you spent the morning using your Key, unlocking doors in the Grid.”

    “I’d tell you, but I’d be lying.”

    He frowns at me. “You should spend less time pitying yourself and more time on what matters. We need you, and people in the Land of the Harvest need us. See how that works?”

    So irritating, but so right.

    He walks around me, drawing a circle in the sand. “A gift given can do nothing unless it’s received.”

    My hands ball into fists. “If you’re hoping to confuse me, A-plus. You nailed it.”

    He smiles at me, but there’s no amusement in the deed. “You have to forgive yourself for Archer’s death. Otherwise you’ll be in breach of contract. Did you know that? Hold a grudge, earn a punishment. Even when the grudge is self-directed.”

    I bristle, retorting, “Has anyone informed Elizabeth of this?”

    “How about you focus on you, eh?” He winks at me. “Since you’re new, I’ll throw you a bone and explain a few things. Elizabeth has entered a grace period. A time without punishment to reflect and forgive. While you might curse her grace period, I have a feeling you’ll rejoice when you are shown the same mercy.”

    Ugh! He’s more irritating by the second. “What constitutes a punishment here?” I know about the Exchange, when we see our crime through the eyes of our victim. But there must be others.

    “Loss of home or job. Solitary confinement. Yes, we have a prison here, and resentment is a serious crime. Antipathy of any kind casts a shadow over the Grid and affects us all.”

    Well. Time to do my part to keep the Grid bright and shiny, then. I face Clay. “I’m sorry. I knew someone else would rush to your rescue but feared no one else would—”

    He holds up a hand to stop me. “I’m sorry. Meredith explained the situation to me. I should have trusted you.”