Ruslan burst into laughter. “I should reward you for amusing me! Should I kill you now so you don’t have to watch everyone die? Oh, but I so dearly wanted to sacrifice Laila first—”
“No,” said Zofia.
The word ripped out of her so fast that it took a moment for her to realize thatshewas the one who had spoken.
Ruslan’s golden face turned to her. Zofia could feel Laila stiffen beside her. Zofia expected the dagger to dig a little deeper on her neck, but instead, Ruslan just flicked his wrist.
Zofia knew that gesture. Classmates and professors and people in the city used to do that around her all the time.
It meant one thing: Zofia was not worth notice.
“The mute speaks!” Ruslan’s gold mouth curved, and he turned sharply. “As if you have any power to change things.”
Heat flared on Zofia’s face. Ruslan was wrong, and yet… all her inventions lay on the other side of the lake. Zofia had little on her person except for her necklace, three matches, and her Forged sleeve. None of it would help Laila. None of it would make a difference.
Beside Ruslan, Enrique’s eyes had narrowed. Séverin had set his jaw and right behind her, Hypnos was breathing hard.
“Come, Monsieur Montagnet-Alarie,” said Ruslan, snapping his fingers. “It is time to give me that which I am owed.”
Ruslan stepped onto the shining ziggurat. Zofia watched as Séverin took a deep breath. He looked up, at the giant automatons, and then at Hypnos and her… before his eyes rested on Laila. Finally, he stepped onto the temple. Enrique followed.
“Phoenix—” Laila whispered under her breath.
But Zofia did not hear what she said. The guard shoved her forward.
“No dallying!” called Ruslan, climbing the steps. He looked over his shoulder, grinning and waving his knife. “For every hesitation, I’ll take a finger!”
Zofia stepped onto the temple.Focus, she told herself.One step at a time.
That was all she could do now.
Up close, the steps were even larger than she had imagined. They stretched at least fifteen meters wide on either side, and required a good four paces forward before she reached the ledge to climb the next step. She made her way slowly, her heartbeat loud in her ears as she tuned out the world around her.
Zofia had just counted her twentieth step when the air around them rippled. The warm glow off the mud-baked bricks disappeared. Cold invaded the space around her. A high-pitched hum echoed in her ears.
Zofia shook her head, as if she could manage to dislodge the sound. The dagger at her back nicked her skin and she winced. When she looked down, she froze.
“What is that?” asked Ruslan, whirling around.
Black liquid beaded on the stone steps. Zofia looked up, managingto turn her head and finally catch sight of Laila standing beside her before the world exploded into thick, choking shadows.
Zofia stumbled back, losing her footing. The frenzied humming had built into a screaming wind in her ears. Something sharp slashed against her thigh. Dimly, Zofia thought she heard Ruslan’s dagger clattering to the stone. Zofia clawed to reach a step, but only air and shadows met her hands.
Zofia squeezed her eyes shut.
One. Two. Three.
She opened them, but the dark hadn’t faded.
Four. Five. Six.
Zofia turned her head, but the shadows had become thick and impenetrable. She might as well have been all alone. Inky shadows swirled around her.
Zofia fought back a sob, forcing her mind to ordered, neat things like numbers. She raced through multiples of seventeen as she fumbled in the dark, stretching her hands out before her—
Seventeen, thirty-four, fifty-one…
She tried to take a step forward, tripped, and banged her knees against something hard and rough. A sob caught in her throat. Her hands shook as she felt her way around, only for something wet and sticky to hit her fingers. Zofia clutched her fingers to her chest, curling around herself and counting her breaths the way her parents had taught her to do when she was young and terrified.
