Slowly, Hypnos put down the rest of the cookie. His gaze shuttered. When he stood, he didn’t look at them, choosing instead to brush invisible crumbs from his fine suit.
“Seeing as we’re in a business arrangement, I am privy to information about your progress and will continue to inquire about it,” he said tightly. “I will see you in three days’ time at the Château de la Lune. Oh, and Séverin—you have never been on the inside of an Order festivity, have you?”
Hypnos knew he hadn’t. If anything, it was a well-placed jab thathewas on the inside while Séverin would always be the orphancircling for a way in. There was no point affirming Hypnos with a spoken answer.
“I should warn you now. It will be as if your eyes are seeing for the first time,” said Hypnos, smiling slowly. “And, if you fail at the tasks at hand or get caught, the last time too.”
PART III
Letter from Matriarch Delphine Desrosiers of House Kore to her sister, Countess Odette, upon her initiation to the Order of Babel
Dear sister,
I so look forward to meeting my new nephew when you come to visit! You asked how I feel having been entrusted with our family’s lineage, and I confess I feel a mixture of emotions. I feel awe, on one hand, for the sacred responsibility entrusted to me. And yet, wariness… Do you remember the House that fell? Its name has been wiped from the records, so it is known only as the Fallen House. Father said it fell near the time when I was born, but he showed me a letter he received from its executed patriarch. He told me it is a reminder that we do not fully understand the depths of that which we protect. It haunts me, sister, for the executed patriarch wrote:
“I cannot help but wonder if for all that we protect the West’s Babel Fragment from the public, we are also protecting the publicfromit…”
13
ZOFIA
Zofia liked computing numbers aloud. Math calmed her. Distracted her.
“Two hundred twenty-two squared is forty-nine thousand two hundred eighty-four,” she muttered, climbing the marble steps.
In her hand, the golden invitation looked like a flame peeled off a fire. She traced the elaborate letters:Baroness Sophia Ossokina.
“Seven hundred ninety-one squared is…” Zofia frowned. “Six hundred twenty-five thousand, six hundred eighty-one.”
Not as fast as she used to be. That numeral had taken her almost fifteen seconds to compute. By now, she should have felt calmer.
She didn’t.
In an hour, they would board the train for the Château de la Lune. By midnight, they would be seated at the opening feast. This wouldn’t be like acquisitions in the past when impersonating someone meant memorizing a handful of lines. This meant hiding herself in plain sight. It would have been easier if she was still a sum unto herself. But Séverin and the others made her part of an equation. If she failed,she wouldn’t fail alone. It was Séverin and Enrique and Laila, and all the weight of their hopes. It was Hela, who was acting governess to their pampered cousins, waiting for freedom. It was the dream she clung to, that small image she replayed over and over… the peace of walking down a street and feeling as though she were no different from anyone else.
Such fragile things swaying in the balance.
Zofia’s hands were damp as she crossed the final hallway to Laila’s room. She had only visited Laila there once. She hadn’t liked it. It smelled too strong. And it was so colorful. Not like the kitchens with their uniform shades of cream.
Before she could knock, Laila opened the door, her smile wide as always.
“Ready?” she asked brightly.
A wave of perfume hit her nose. Zofia scrunched her face, stepping back sharply, her shoulders rounding like a cornered animal.
Laila left the door open, disappearing into her room. She did not invite Zofia inside, nor did she wait for an answer. From where Zofia stood, she could only see a sliver of the room. A hint of green silk on the walls. One window draped in linen curtains so the room was not too bright. Near the threshold was a little jade table. And on it… a perfectly pale and round cookie.
Zofia took a step forward and swiped the cookie off the plate. She wanted to step back immediately, but then she caught a glance at the vanity table. Laila was habitually messy. Once, Zofia had tried to rearrange the kitchen, but stopped when Laila threatened not to make any more desserts. The last time she had been here, it was a disaster: pots of cosmetics on the floor; jewelry hanging from light fixtures; the bed not only unmade, but also asymmetrically positioned because Laila “liked to wake with the sunshine on her face.” It gave Zofia chills.
Now it looked different.
She poked her head through the door. All the cosmetics on the vanity were evenly spaced apart, exactly as Zofia would have done. But there was an exception. One glaringly tall tube in the middle of an otherwise perfectly descending scale. Zofia’s fingers twitched to rearrange it.
Zofia glanced to her left. Laila was fiddling with a long, black dress. Just ahead was another pale cookie balancing on a low trunk near Laila’s vanity. Warily, Zofia stepped inside. She padded over to the second cookie and promptly ate it. She felt… less terrible. But that might have just been the cookie.
“Nearly finished selecting your outfits,” said Laila. Now she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, fluffing up the train of the black dress. “You’ll need four outfit changes between Friday’s midnight feast and Saturday’s midnight ball. And of course, you’ll have time to tailor them with whatever incendiary devices you deem fit. I think all of that should fit in your traveling wardrobe.”
Zofia’s traveling wardrobe stood at the back of the room. It was less a travel wardrobe and more of a travel workspace. When completely closed and locked, it resembled tiers of embossed leather suitcases. When opened, it became something else. All the “suitcases” were attached and Forged to hold compartments containing a chemistry set, lock picks, moldings, vials of diatomaceous earth, iron filings, various acids… and dresses. A single piece of precious verit stone lay at the bottom, rendering it undetectable to House Kore’s sensors.
