“How do you know that?”
I realized, nearly too late, that I had yet to confess what class of Entwined I was to Harden.
“Scratch marks,” I said with a soulless smile. “On the inside.”
His hands tightened on mine but, thankfully, he did not linger on the topic. No, he moved on to something far worse.
“How did you escape from the Guild?” He raised his eyebrows at my wince. “It’s in the papers, Ottilie. There are rumors, too, about who you are.”
I had forgotten about that. I pulled away from him. I hatedto lose his touch, but just then, I needed the space. I leaned against the opposite bunk post, taking a moment to order my thoughts. But there were too many voices in the Separatists’ den, too much happening, too many lies crying out from the table of propaganda in the corner of my eye.
“Who am I, then?” I asked, bracing myself.
“Ottilie Rushforth.”
I felt something inside me give way. “Do they know?” I asked, nodding to the Separatists all around.
Harden watched me for another breath, then appeared to come to a decision. “Yes.”
“Then am I a prisoner?”
His expression was wan. “What use would you be as a prisoner?”
“You might force me to fight with you. There are only twelve Eventide Entwined in Arrent. A hundred the world over.”
“Yes, yes, you’re very special. But you’re also useless, unless you’re willing to cooperate.”
“Then you will not try to convince me to fight with you?”
“I already did. You said no, and I said I’d speak no more of it. I keep my word.”
I met his gaze, gratitude and respect loosening my chest and allowing me to breathe a little easier. They were a balm, but they could do little against three, undeniable truths.
First, I was unmasked. The papers knew Ottilie Fleet had been rescued from prison by the Guild, and rumors that I was a Rushforth were swiftly turning to fact.
Second, Grand General Baffin had the artifact. His hopes of learning how to trans form human into Entwined could now be pursued, with Dr. Maddeson’s enthusiastic support.
Third, Lewis was in Harrow.
My worries began to… not peel away, but to dampen, to grow more distant. My plans were threatening to disassemble, as was the city itself. The waters were so muddied I felt I could no longer see through them, save for the fact that, once more, I faced a choice.
I could walk away. I could run to Pretoria—wherever she was now—and allow her to save me.
Or I could keep fighting, keep reaching for the future I wanted.
Perhaps if I reframed the recent, terrible developments, they would not seem quite so bad? I now knew where the artifact was. Lewis was here, not in The Sarre. If he could be extricated from the Guild’s clutches, we could fleetogetheras soon as the artifact was turned in and Stillwell’s bounty paid. Given the secrecy of Baffin’s plans, there was a chance Stillwell, semi-disgraced after his failure to hold The Sarre, remained ignorant of it all, and still simply wanted his artifact back. If not, perhaps I could find another buyer. Pretoria certainly could, if I was willing to let her in.
My plans were still in motion, and with them, Lewis, Pretoria and Perry, Dr. Maddeson and Lord Stillwell. It was time to rejoin them on the game board.
I looked at Harden. “How do you feel about helping me rescue Lewis from the Guild?”
Harden did not look as surprised as I expected. “I have already considered it.”
“Then you will?”
He glanced at his people. “Yesterday, I would have. Today, the Zealots almost killed a Rushforth, the Guild is mobilized, and there are soldiers on the streets. I have obligations, Ottilie.”
This blindsided me—which likely said a great deal about the extent of my self-absorption.
