The dagger pushed a little harder at her throat. Laila forced her eyes to the ground. Now, the glassy floor looked like rose-coloredclouds. She imagined the sun rising slowly, warming her back. She met Ruslan’s gaze, lifting her chin. Acid flashed through her chest, and Laila welcomed her own fear.
“You will never be a god,” she spat.
Ruslan laughed. He turned to Enrique. “How’s your ear, little historian?”
“Gone,” said Enrique furiously. “Along with my delusions.”
“And the mute, little engineer…” said Ruslan, turning to Zofia. “Hello.”
Laila glared at the cruel jab, but Zofia remained indifferent. She stood with her back ramrod straight, her blue eyes furious and burning.
“I see you’ve kept around the abandoned puppy,” said Ruslan, lifting an eyebrow at Hypnos. “Strange… you were supposed to be dead. That will change, though. I’d hate to make liars out of the Order.”
Hypnos scowled.
“How nice to see you all reunited,” said Ruslan, clapping his hands. “You lived together… now you may die together! What a gift. Now, Séverin… enough of this. I’ll make you a deal, yes? Get me to the top of the temple, I’ll kill you simultaneously, and thus spare you the agony of watching one another die. In return, you take me to the top of that temple and play the lyre.Now.”
Laila watched as Séverin held up his hands slowly. She could see a plan frantically churning behind his eyes. His eyes darted to the changing color of the floor. Even though Laila could not turn around to see it, she still felt the presence of the giant automatons flanking the ziggurat.
“Ruslan, surely we—”
“Ugh,” said Ruslan.
He jerked his chin to the right, and Hypnos yelped, doublingover. Laila sucked in her breath. The dagger at her throat pressed a little deeper against her skin, keeping her still.
“Hypnos!” Séverin called out. He spun around to help, but Ruslan called out: “No, no, Monsieur Montagnet-Alarie… you will stay right where you are.”
Hypnos moaned, lifting his head. There was a long cut down his cheek. The golden dagger now rotated around his head.
“If you defy me again, the next cut will be along his throat,” said Ruslan. “Nowgo.”
Laila wished she could wrench this dagger away from her and plunge it straight into the patriarch of the Fallen House.
“No!” called out Enrique. “It’s rigged with a trap. I’m sure of it!”
Ruslan raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
Laila held her breath. It was a dangerous thing to get Ruslan’s attention, and yet if he did not listen, all of the lyre’s power would be wasted.
“Look at the floor, Ruslan,” said Séverin evenly. “It is changing even now to reflect different times of the day. Trespass upon a temple too early, and it is a sign of disrespect to the gods. We should go at noon, at the zenith of the day to mark the occasion. And that’s not to mention the statues themselves—”
“They’re straight from the legends I’ve researched,” said Enrique, gulping down air. Laila couldn’t take her eyes off the golden dagger now tapping his remaining ear. “It’s a… a legend about King Ajatasatru. He ruled until 460 BC, and he was said to possessallmanner of military inventions. Catapults and mechanized war chariots and—”
RUSLAN STARTED TOlaugh. “A clever little ploy! You can delay this as long as you like, but it won’t make a difference—”
“It’s true!” said Enrique loudly. “I… I know it. Something will happen.”
Out the corner of her eye, Laila stared at the curling mist. What lay on the other side? Or who?
“‘Something,’” repeated Ruslan, bored. “How frightening. Come, Séverin—”
Laila felt his gaze sweep over her.
“If we go now, we will be killed,” said Séverin. “And then no one can play the lyre and turn you into a god. Is that truly a risk you wish to take?”
Ruslan paused. At first, he sighed, and then a little smile rose to his lips. Laila felt as if a cold wind had blown against her neck.
“Quite right,” said Ruslan. “I cannot risk you… but Laila? Well. Quite a different thing. My dear, how many days do you have left anyway?”
