The urgency to protect what she knew, and the dread of not knowing what to expect. She steeled herself, thinking of Laila’s dark eyes and Hela’s gray gaze, and she promised herself she would protect them.
Zofia broke off one of her Tezcat pendants, shining the fluorescent light against the bricks. Small, writhing insects burrowedback into the lining of the brick. Her light caught a molten, silver shape. Enrique held up his hand.
“I recognize that symbol,” he said, frowning.
“Where?” asked Eva.
Zofia peered closer. There, buried right beneath Rebekah’s name and no bigger than a thumbnail was a small, flipped number3.
“I’ve never seen that symbol,” said Eva. “Is it the letterE?”
Zofia tilted her head. The symbol reminded her of something she had seen in her father’s study, a mathematic sign like the lowercase omega.
“IknowI’ve seen it before,” said Enrique, flipping through the pages of his notebook.
“It looks like a math symbol,” said Zofia. “Like the transfinite ordinal number.”
“Trans what?” asked Eva.
“Transfinite is a number treated as ‘infinite’ or far greater than finite numbers, but not quite infinite, and ordinal is a theory used to describe a number that describes the collection of other numbers.”
Eva rubbed her temples. “What do those words evenmean?”
“Knowing Zofia, I’m sure it will prove to be brilliant,” said Enrique.
He shot her a warm smile. Zofia studded his face: brows pressed flat, mouth tipped up at the corners. A pattern of pity. Hepitiedher. And Eva was not even listening. Zofia’s cheeks heated, and she walked away from the Tezcat portal to the third door. Enrique stayed behind, documenting the symbol.
“It still doesn’t explain why her name would be carved in a well,” said Eva. “Did the Fallen House climb into the well? Who saw her get in?”
“I have no idea,” sighed Enrique.
“Maybe the third door will tell us,” said Eva.
Enrique made a slight whimpering sound and stood behind Eva. A second later, he seemed to change his mind, and instead stood behind Zofia, muttering, “Pleasedon’tlettherebeakillergoddesspleasedon’tlettherebeakillergoddess…”
Rolling her eyes, Eva pressed her bloodied palm to the metal shield. It swung open with a creaking sound. Immediately, Eva leapt back. Enrique screamed.
“What?” asked Zofia.
Eva turned to her, her green eyes round. “There’s… there’s writing on the wall.”
Enrique didn’t move. “Metaphorically or—”
“You screamed because of writing?” demanded Zofia.
“Depending on the script, some writing can appear exquisitely intimidating,” said Enrique. “And I didn’t scream. I yell-breathed.” He clutched his chest and scowled at her. “It’s different.”
Zofia peered into the third portal and saw the words written in a glowing ink:
TO PLAY AT GOD’S INSTRUMENT
WILL SUMMON THE UNMAKING
24
SÉVERIN
Séverin knew that the finding should make him happy, but he couldn’t remember what happy was. His mind kept catching on a particular memory, like a silk scarf in sharp branches, from last year. The five of them had acquired a costly Fabergéegg, the sale of which supported an ancient Indonesian gold Forging community against the Dutch business interests. It was Zofia’s birthday, though only Laila seemed to have known. As a surprise, she had hidden a cake shaped like a chicken’s egg inside their escape hansom. Before Enrique could start talking about the mythological significance of eggs, Tristan had loudly asked: “What came first, the chicken or the egg?” Zofia was the first to answer: “Scientifically speaking, the rooster.” The whole hansom went silent, and then they laughed so hard that Séverin accidentally put his elbow through the cake and all the bright yellow lemon curd that Laila designed like a yolk got onto Enrique’s pants, which only made them laugh harder—
