Wind battered the hems and collars of our coats into our legs and stinging cheeks as we wound our way through the headstones. It had been two years since I'd been to the cemetery on the very edge of Faction 11 near the docked boats, one of which would soon carry us away from here. Both our tickets to Faction 2 were stowed in my coat pocket, and I bumped it with my wrist every other step to be sure they hadn't blown out.

I wasn't so sure I would be able to make out my ...