Lewis moved, and the next thing I knew, I had a blanket wrapped around my shoulders. His arms came with it, and Pretoria yielded to his larger frame.
Lewis held me, properly held me, with both arms and a gentleness I felt through my bones. When I pulled away and looked up at him, the expression on his face was cobbled from unanswered questions and battered stoicism.
A muffled sound came from the bathroom. I looked sharply to the side and saw Dr. Maddeson tied to a chair on the tiled floor, his hair mussed, and his cheeks puffed around a gag.
The sight was so unexpected that it shattered my fugue. “How did you manage to keephim?”
She sank down on the edge of the bed. Lewis, transitioning his hold to one arm, led me over and I sank down at her side. He hovered above us, weight on a cane.
“The professor swiftly realized that staying with Perry and I was safer than being alone on the streets. Until we got to the hotel, of course. Then he attempted to run.” She leaned forward to shoot the professor a long look. “You will not be doing that again, will you, sir?”
Maddeson shook his head defeatedly.
“What…” Lewis brought my gaze back to his face. He had one hand in his hair, raking it back as he fought an internal battle.
“Not yet,” I said. “I cannot explain… not yet.”
They accepted that. Pretoria found another blanket and some water, and as I sat under their ministrations, my hammering heart finally slowed.
Perry returned soon after, with Harden in company. Both wore immaculate soldiers’ uniforms and greeted me with obvious relief.
“You know how to worry a man,” Harden rebuked. He took me in in one sweep, seeming to see far more than the blankets and my pale face. He exchanged a glance with Lewis.
Too many unspoken things hung in the air. I gathered my courage, and my voice, and spoke. “I have decided on a course of action.”
“We can discuss what to do later—” Lewis started to say, but I cut him off with a shake of the head.
“No,” I said. “Let me speak.”
They let me.
“Baffin has made his move against the Zealots,” I stated. “That means either they broke from his control, or he no longer needs them. Either way, Baffin’s plans to cement his hold on the city and oust all Entwined are succeeding, and in their final stages.”
I looked at Harden, an apology in my eyes. “We cannot save Harrow.Wecannot. But we can prevent Baffin from pursuing his research into the artifacts. I know it seems like the least of our concerns, but if he succeeds, as I believe he will”—I did not say why, just then, but I shifted my gaze to Lewis—“his power will become absolute. He believes the artifacts can be used to grant humans the power of the Entwined. I think, perhaps, he is not far from the truth.”
Lewis and Harden stood side by side, their expressions varied arrangements of incredulous, irate, and guarded. Given the angle at which I sat, I could not see Perry’s face clearly just then.
Pretoria started to speak, but quietened as I took her hand. Neither of us wore gloves and the contact came with a whisper of memories, formless feelings, and glimpses of moments past. They came to me without effort, and stowed away in my mind.
In my pockets, the artifacts seemed to hum in response.
I went on, “I know you have questions. I will answer them. Simply understand—both Baffin and the Guild are after a truth, a power, that could unhinge and reshape our world. But we can stop them. Both of them. All we need do is retrieve all the items from the Landsdown Trove. We find them, and destroy them.”
There was a muffled cry from the bathroom.
“Oh fetch him, would you?” Pretoria asked Perry.
Perry complied and Maddeson joined the council, gaze flicking nervously from party to party.
“You cannot destroy them!” he raged as Perry pressed him into a chair. “Aside from the Stele itself and unlocking the Old Arasi language—you would have to destroy the work and persons of multiple scholars the world over to truly erase this.You cannot do it. I will not let you. You are overreacting, Miss Fleet.”
“Rushforth,” I corrected.
He frowned in consternation and plowed on, “When I have finished my translations, when the world understands that Entwined and humans are one and the same, there will bepeace.”
“He is an idealist,” I explained to the company, rubbing my face wearily. My skin was damp and sweat-slick, and I longed for a bath. For solitude, security, and fresh beginning.
But more than that, I longed for action. I had found a purpose, a drive. A noose had cinched it into place. And the artifacts in my pockets were my ballast.
