“Convenient.” Her face was skeptical. She pointed a sharp chin at Oleander, who wasn’t even pretending not to eavesdrop. “You’re with her. What do you need me for?”
“I don’t need you to come. But I dowantyou to come.”
Lullaby hesitated a moment longer before grabbing her cloak and stalking off ahead of us.
“Lullaby may hate me,” Oleander said to me in an undertone, “but I think sheloathesyou.”
“Oleander?” I trotted to keep up with my willowy friend. “Shut up.”
Oleander’s footsteps echoed behind us as we made our way toward the dungeon. After some casual sneaking, we reached the stone alcove with the impossible window. I slipped the pendant from my neck and held the Relic over the divot in the stone. I lifted my eyes to the two girls—Oleander was aglow with barely contained excitement, but Lullaby still looked skeptical.
“Ready?” I lowered the Relic. “Brace yourselves.”
This time, I was prepared for the sudden vertiginous rush of the granite dropping away beneath my feet. Torchlight blinked out as midnight descended. I looped a tight chain around the colors bursting like fireworks in my chest and forced radiance into the dark. The light was like tarnish on an ambric jewel, but it would have to do.
“Ow,” Oleander said, before her eyes went wide.
Lullaby didn’t say anything, just glided off the pedestal into the murk of the Oubliettes. She performed a slow pirouette.
“This,” she breathed. “This isamazing!”
Oleander stepped after her, and I followed closely behind, my light pulsing raw against the carven walls. I shuddered at the chilling darkness. But neither Oleander nor Lullaby seemed to share my discontent. Oleander traced a finger along a crooked stone tree and murmured a verse of what I thought might be poetry; Lullaby pressed her face against an aquamarine windowpane as though it might be an impossible shard of sea glass.
I marched to the sunburst door, its reflective light more brilliant than my own ragged illusion. Both Oleander and Lullaby left their exploration and came to flank me.
“This is it?” Oleander looked unimpressed.
“Watch.” I fit my hands against the grooves, like I’d done before. The door hissed open, yawning into more darkness. I lifted my hands. The door slid shut again. “I can’t open the door and go through it at the same time.”
“Let me try.” Oleander fit her slender fingers along the grooves. Nothing happened.
“You’re wearing gloves,” Lullaby pointed out. “Maybe it only works with bare skin.”
But even without her gloves, the door remained stubbornly shut. Oleander looked pointedly at Lullaby. Lullaby copied the motion. But her touch was as ineffective as Oleander’s. Both girls looked at me.
“It only works … for me?”
“Scion save us from stupid Duskland gamines,” Oleander drawled. She reached into the laces of her bodice, retrieving a glinting object. “Hold out your hand.”
“What—?”
Oleander grabbed my arm. I tried to clench my fist, but she was too fast for me. A blade flashed—pain flared sharp along my forearm—blood burst hot down my wrist.
“Scion’s teeth!” I growled, snatching my arm away and cradling it against my chest. “What was that for?”
“Rub the blood on your palms.” Lullaby had clearly jumped to a realization before I had the chance. “And try the lock again?”
I stared from her to Oleander and back again.
“The door only responds to you, Mirage.” Oleander was impatient. “If this place is truly linked to the Relics, then maybe your Sabourin blood is the key.”
I gritted my teeth. She was right. I just wished I’d thought of it before she’d had a chance to slice my arm open. I smeared the sticky blood along my fingers, then slapped both palms onto the wall. Again, the door sighed open. This time, when I moved my hands, they stayed that way.
“Yes!” Oleander’s eyes glowed eerie.
“Here.” Quickly, Lullaby wrapped a length of cloth around my bleeding wrist—she’d ripped the hem of her dress.
“Thanks.” I tried not to sound too surprised.
