Chapter 13

Astrand of red hair twisted around my finger, cutting off the circulation back to my hand. They would come for me soon—had to be soon. I'd never heard so much noise in the tower. Stone grinding against stone, prisoners yelping as guards shouted orders, the crack of whips and beaters as they hit flesh and the cries they evoked.

"Vesper? Callow?" I whispered into the dark, hoping they'd hear me. "Are you still there? Please, don't ignore me if you are."

A pause followed, and I didn't know if they pointedly ignored me or if the guards had already dealt with them.

"We're still here, Milla."

It was Vesper who'd broken the quiet, the first time I'd heard her voice in weeks. Relief and bitterness fought for dominance in my heart. "Do you know what's happening?"

I looped the strand of hair once more around my finger, waiting for her to reply.

"They're clearing the tower for a ceremony. One of them said something about a third trial. Your trial."

I figured. Delilah had promised as much. Her confirmation only encouraged my plans, and I quickly set to work, forgetting the darkthief like she had me. Waiting until the noises grew loud enough to cover the sound of ripping fabric, I tore off a strip of cloth from the bottom of my left sleeve, pulling at a hole the rocks had torn in it during the previous trial.

"Milla?"

"What?" The word was muffled as I held the dirty strip between my teeth, trying to tie it around my upper arm.

"Just so you know," she said, her voice gentle. "We never meant to be cruel, ignoring you. It's just. . . we didn't think we'd ever find you."

My work ceased. "Find me?"

"Vesper, that's enough," Callow interjected. "We aren't safe to speak of it here. They could be listening."

"She might be about to die, Callow. Shouldn't she know?"

I would not die. Not today, anyway, if my plans meant anything. "What are you two talking about?"

"Your remnant," she blurted. "We've been looking for you. It's about—"

Vesper's cell opened, the vibration of the moving stone shuddered through the floor and severed the connection between us.

The intrigue she sparked inside me felt like hope, and I pushed it down before whatever was left of my optimism grew wings. There was no hope here to wish for better days, only the choices we made to ensure we claimed them. Vesper was a stranger, as unfamiliar to me as any knowledge of my remnant was to the world. She must have been mistaken.

No one was looking for me.

Before long, the few prisoners held here had been moved, leaving me isolated in my schemes. Though this time, I wasn't worried about what would come. My strength had returned little by little with every meal, just as Delilah wished. They even let me bathe by myself, though the water was freezing and the bath brief.

The alchemedis came shortly after for my glint treatment, shadowed by the guards. She didn't notice the tourniquet fashioned around my bicep where I tied the shred beneath the other wide sleeve of my tunic, coincidentally the same arm she administered the sedative.

When the stone rolled shut, I sucked as much poisoned blood from the puncture site as I could and spat it across the stone. Only once my blood stopped burning on my tongue did I pull the tourniquet loose. I hid the bloodstains with my thin cot, eliminating the chance for questions from the guards when they came to retrieve me.

It actually worked. A bit of glint still seeped through, dulling my remnant for a moment, but it wore off much faster than usual.

The one good thing that had come out of Delilah and her trials was the opportunity to learn more about my remnant and what it could do. She taught me how to destroy, how to feel it—and I would make her regret the trials she'd put me through. I had the will and the way to escape now, blow through the stone and send the whole tower crumbling down, but I wanted to wait until the right moment.

I'd wait until this last trial, until the guards and the ones who'd beat and tortured me throughout my time here, the alchemedis who drugged me senseless, the alchemist who kidnapped me. I'd wait until they were all in the same room—and I'd unleash all the wrath in my remnant on each of them.

I'd destroy Delilah and her staff, the guards, and purge the world of their cruel curiosity. Then perhaps finally some good would come of Chaos.

The tower remained nearly silent.I kept my ear to the floor, listening, trying not to shiver and conserve the strength I had collected from the last few days. The stone door of my cell rolled away, and I startled at the introduction of the first sound, sensation, and light I'd known for hours.

"Get up. It's time."

"Mike? Is that you?" I squinted at my guard. A black mask concealed his face, reflecting the light of the kerosine lamp he carried. "Is that a new outfit? You didn't have to get all dressed up for me."

"Now, prisoner."

I smiled. "And here I thought we were on a first name basis. Suit yourself, Michael. I'd hate to keep the bitch waiting."

If he objected to me slandering his superior, he said nothing. I didn't even know if Delilah was the boss here, or if she worked for the Watch. I supposed it didn't matter, as they were all on the same side, anyway.

He remained several paces behind me as I climbed the stairs to the Orbitarium, the top of the tower where Delilah's laboratory was situated beneath a glass dome ceiling. But when the stone rolled away, I discovered the roof was gone. Cold, salty wind filled my chest, something fresh instead of the stale and stagnant air in the cells.

The oculus had opened, revealing the night sky with not a cloud present to conceal the starlight. Guards, dressed in the same armor as Mike, stood around the perimeter of the room in front of the machines and instruments Delilah used in some of her tests.

I couldn't see their eyes, but I felt them as they followed me to the center of the room where the alchemist stood. She wore her usual garb, a heavy smock over simple clothes and thick gloves over her clasped hands.

"Now that we're all here"—she slid her gaze to a guard standing apart from the rest—"we can proceed with the last trial. How much glint did she receive this morning?"

The alchemedis stepped behind her, holding a clipboard. "Half a vial. Enough to hold her through the night if needed."

"Good." Delilah gestured to the guard behind me. "Chain her and expose the mark."

Two large hands braced my shoulders, shoving me to my knees where they hit the stone with a splitting crack that was muffled by the activity in the room. I hardly felt the dull throb in my bones while Mike clutched my arm to clasp each chain around my wrist, his gloves burning my skin. There was little slack to the new bindings. The weight of them dragged my hands to the floor.

He gripped the collar of my tunic and ripped it in half, exposing the length of my spine, the same fire licking the back of my neck. Cool night air brushed my bare skin, prickling my back with chill bumps, and I gasped at the assault. My arms fought the resistance of the chains to wrap around my middle, feeling vulnerable with so much exposed to their veiled stares.

"What does this have to do with my mark?" At this point, I wanted as much information as possible. Delilah knew more about me than I did, and she might be more inclined to share if she thought she had all her loose ends tied down.

"You were given that mark, not born with it." She adjusted her gloves and paced around me to view my back better. "How?"

I shrugged. "I fought a creature from the Wilds. The wearhs who caught it called the beast a demon. It pierced me and left the mark on my body."

"One of Oblivion's messengers then," she barely whispered. "Chaos must have sent it to you, which means it's truly time, then."

"And you think this mark is some kind of key?" I asked to keep her talking. "Does this have to do with Oblivion?"

Her displeased frown erased the satisfaction from her lips. "How do you know about the key?"

For some reason, I didn't mention Mike. "It doesn't matter. I have no key. Whatever you are trying to unlock, I cannot do it for you."

"It sounds more like you're hiding something." Her eyes narrowed. "I believe the demon realized what you were when it pierced your blood, then it delivered the key. I think Chaos sent it to find you, that it came to this Isle from the void to give you the key, knowing the time was coming to open Oblivion once more."

"You're fully deranged then, if you truly believe a word of any of that." How could a simple mark on my back open the deepest hell in the void? It was a sign of Chaos, a symbol of my curse, a burden I now had to carry and conceal. It did nothing but cause pain and grief and paint my hands bloody.

"Perhaps," she replied. "But if I'm right, I'll be the most celebrated scientist in all the realm. I'm willing to risk that possibility."

"Get the hells away from the Remni, Delilah!" A voice boomed from the entrance of the Orbitarium. I turned to find another guest, one I definitely wasn't expecting, filling the empty space where the stone was still set aside—and he looked pissed.

Felix Firenze.

"What are you doing here?" She came to stand in front of me as if to hide me. Felix stepped into the crowded lab, three of his men following close behind, pressing their backs against the curved wall.

Felix's cheeks were flushed, his thick neck covered in red splotches with perspiration glistening his brow. "I got word you were making the exchange today. Imagine my surprise when your last report mentioned nothing of the sort!" He huffed a breath. "You lied to me once about the Remni, and I had to learn from someone else that she was alive. I crossed it off as poor communication, but this? This will cost you, Delilah."

"I don't answer to you, Firenze. I am the Head Alchemist. Your family is only where they are today because of my sacrifices—"

"And you are only alive because my family protected you. Might I remind you, Head Alchemist, that my father was the only one who believed your claims among the Niners. If it weren't for him, you'd probably have been killed off by the Marcheses, like all the rest who learned their secrets. Your lab, your funding, your opportunities are all paid for by us."

Felix took another bold step forward, but none of the guards stopped him. Perhaps he did have the upper hand.

"It is time, Felix." Delilah's tone softened. "You might fund my projects, but this is my science and my life's work."

"We should wait for Magrahel, like the OIC plans. We can use the key then—"

"So they can take responsibility for the work we've done, the research I've put into this to study the Arcane? We do this now and Order answers to us," she whispered, as if sharing a secret. "With Gavriel gone, we have weak men in leadership, but that"—she gestured to my back—"will give us the power we need to outset them. We need to take the key for ourselves. It is the only way to ensure our place in the New Order."

Felix shook his head. "If one thing goes wrong, Delilah, you could ruin hundreds of years of work. The last time you tried to transfer power, you destroyed a man's entire remnant! You could destroy the key in that case, and what then? What makes you confident in your science now?"

Delilah straightened; her chin raised slightly. "Commander Lear."

She spoke the name like a request. A moment later, a loud, screeching sound filled the room. So harsh was the cry, I doubled over, unable to cover my ears with my bound hands. The sound ceased just as quickly but left behind an incessant ringing behind.

Sound. A native commander, one of the Watch, controlled sound. Delilah had taken a remnant and given it to a watchman—with science. Hadn't Luther controlled the same? Was his remnant tested here as well? The bloodstains on the tile suddenly held a new meaning.

"I didn't fail," Delilah said coolly. "I lied. Just like I lied about capturing the Remni. Men in power have taken from me before, but they will not take my accomplishments. The Society will become what it was always meant to be because of my discoveries."

"You are making a mistake, Delilah," Felix said. "We had one job—to study the Arcane—but you're going too far with this. Stand down, or the OIC will handle your deceit in ways I cannot protect you from."

"I'll take that risk." For the first time, she let go of the book she carried and handed it to Felix. "This was hers, written by Chaos in the days before she disappeared."

"Where did you get this?" He flipped through the book, his brows furrowing with interest.

"I have my resources." Delilah's lips thinned, like she was holding back a larger truth. "I've been using it to guide Camilla's training and testing to better define her remnant in the Arcane so I could properly link her power to me. If she holds the key, it should transfer."

"You'd take the power of Chaos?" Felix sounded unsure.

Delilah shook her head. "Chaos must be destroyed before we open Oblivion. That much she made explicitly clear. I only wish to connect us. When the bond is formed, I'll use a conduit, a Siphon, to take the key. Once I have it, we can be done with her."

"What is in Oblivion?" I asked them.

Felix turned his head slowly in my direction, letting his gaze hover for a beat. He stepped near the edge of the boundary, squatting in his wrinkled pants to catch me at eye level. "Hello, Camilla."

"Felix," I spat.

"Look at you." His dark eyes scanned my body. A smile formed across his oily cheeks. "Look at what's become of the Princess of Steam. Would you do it differently now, Camilla? Do you regret not choosing me?"

For a moment, I thought of letting go of the magic rolling within my core like an anxious thought, but I reined in the urge. His time would come. "I regret nothing, only that Nico didn't shoot you in your ugly face when he had the chance."

Felix shifted to reach into his pocket, and pulled out a single lead bullet. "I thought I got you, you know. I shot you through the stomach, left you on that train bleeding out and cold with your husband. But then, I realized... in no reality, would I have killed you before I could have you."

He reached for my cheek, stroking his finger across my grimace. What was he talking about, shooting me? The last time I saw him, he was being shot at on top of the train while I snuck to the engine.

A dreadful feeling unfurled in my belly.

Felix leaned closer, like it was a private conversation. "It was almost as if someone made me do it, like a remnant got in my head. Do you know any Mirth descendants who can control thoughts? Any shifters who'd take your place? There's not too many Mirth polys in the city."

I shook my head, but my slow denial stretched his slimy grin.

No. Not Sera. He couldn't be talking about Sera.

The scene, however much I denied it, played out in my head on its own accord. If she had pretended to be me and made Felix shoot her, he'd think I was dead. Everyone would. Just like Delilah had said. It's how she'd kept me here so long, her little secret project.

Felix lifted the bullet between us, a name carved into the lead. "Your husband got me good before I escaped. But I kept the bullet he left in me, and I carved his name right there, as a promise to return it to him very soon."

He stood, letting each line he whispered sink into my heart word by word. Sera was the only one on the train that day that could accomplish such a thing. And she had, if Felix's genuine surprise at my presence here was any indication.

My hands fisted, digging my nails into my palms to distract the pain in my heart with something more visceral, more tolerable, one that wouldn't draw tears to my eyes.

I hardly had time to grieve my friend before the alchemist resumed her trial. She motioned to the women behind her. "Proceed."

Delilah stepped around me, and I realized then, with my back exposed, I'd have to be quick. The Watch would notice my power priming as it fed the black in my veins. My exposure gave them warning. She turned away just as the other alchemists joined me in the center of the room. Three of them drew symbols on my body with a hot solution, melting lines into my skin.

I shrieked with every stroke, struggled against the chains anchoring me to the floor. One of them worked on a symbol over my shoulder, but I thrashed so hard against the bindings around my wrist that I knocked the brush from her hands.

"Stay fucking still!" Mike growled. His fist grabbed my hair and shoved me into the floor, pressing his knee into my spine to hold me down, making it difficult to breathe. I tried to push off the floor, to gain an inch for my chest to move and take a breath, but his weight was smothering.

The alchemists pinned my arms with a scorching grip. I burned everywhere they touched, sketched, dripped their boiling hot ink across my cold skin.

The guard on top of me twitched, and his grip loosened until he finally released my hair and slumped to the side, slinking to the floor with a clank of metal and the thud of dead weight. The women paused their drawing, allowing me to move again. I lifted my head and pushed off the floor to my knees, taking in a lungful of air.

Delilah screamed.

"What have you done?" Her eyes were wide on the bodies littered around me. I followed her gaze, studied the guard and the women on the floor, how the watchmen around the circle inched back.

Delilah fell to her knees and checked the nearest woman's pulse in her neck. She looked at me, green eyes filled with deadly reprisal. "You killed them!"

"I... I didn't do anything!" Truly, I didn't know what had happened. It was like they just fell over and died where they stood. I looked at my hands, but they were bare, insisting what I already knew. I hadn't killed them—but then, who had?

Wind wrapped the room, stirring a violent gust around the Orbitarium. A familiar spark skimmed my cheek, going against the breeze to slide down my jaw, then my neck. It was a feeling I had committed to memory, a touch I'd know in the dark.

It was impossible, and yet despite the odds, there was no doubt left in my body as my skin felt the charge of his remnant, the way it slipped through my hair and filled my lungs with power. His power. He was here.

Tears pricked the corners of my eyes and blurred my vision as I glanced around the room, searching the masked faces for the one who commanded the wind and my heart.

"What is happening?" Delilah roared. "You said she was sedated!"

"Because she is!" the alchemedis shrieked. "This cannot be her."

Delilah's sharp rage smoothed into a cool realization. She knew the range of my remnant, and it never extended to the natural forces of the world. She glared at the guards. "Show your faces, each of you!"

The commanders removed their masks as ordered, revealing one disturbed expression after the other. All but one, who waited until he had the room's attention. The last guard lifted his mask, confirming what I already knew, what I had felt with as much certainty as the breath in my chest.

"Nico," I whispered.

He smiled. Steel-grey eyes settled over me. "Hello, princess."