He tried to stem his annoyance. “Who do I negotiate the price with?”
“Those are the terms. It may hearten you to know my reward is so much greater when one succeeds.” She chuckled. “Though even failure will not leave me empty-handed.”
He couldn’t explain why, but he was certain the Conductor had just told him the first lie.
Jesstin eyed the vial with a mounting mix of dread and exhilaration. The last time he’d felt so conflicted had been standing over Gennady’s dying body.
“How much time will it take?” Jesstin asked.
“As long as it takes.”
“I need to find her today. Not a fortnight from now, or I’d just take the damn road.”
“It will take more than a day, but far less than a fortnight,” the Conductor said. “How long is up to you.”
This magic mirror wanted his family’s memory of him? Wanted to feed upon his misery? He’d come to Infinita Mori with fate on his side. If they were foolish enough to take a piece of him and store it in something so easily retrieved, then they should not be surprised when he stole it back.
The Conductor grinned. Was she reading him again? She’d clocked his earlier thoughts only partly right. Just to be sure, he’d wait until later to come up with a plan.
“Deal,” he said and thrust out his hand, but she didn’t take it.
“You must sign in blood, the ink of the soul.” A scroll appeared. The Conductor looked down, and a table materialized. She spread the vellum out for him, which he’d just started to read when a sharp prick made him yelp.
“Curious!” the Conductor exclaimed. “Very curious. Your blood remains red, like all living things.”
“What color should it be?” A stream trailed from his thumb. It dropped onto the contract in crimson blots.
“Violet is the color of the dead. Now smear your name.”
He scowled in confusion.
“Use your finger, and write your signature.”
“Fucking bloody hell,” he muttered and did as she asked. “Now?—”
“Now, you rest, because it is moonrise. I’ll call for an escort.”
“But it was only just daytime when I arrived!”
“Time is its own mistress.” The Conductor snapped her fingers. A young girl appeared from the other side of the curtain. “Escort our esteemed guest to his cell for the night.”
“Cell?” Jesstin was propelled, first to his feet, then into motion behind the girl, already leaving. “You’re locking me up?”
“For your own safety. The night is included in your fee. No additional payment required,” the Conductor said with a short, tiny wave. “Do rest, Jesstin. You’ll require all your reserves for lightrise.”
He writhed against the magic. It was pointless, and he knew it, but he refused to be subdued without a fight.
The Conductor’s hypnotic smile followed him.
“Oh!” she called. “Your... dreams? Where you visit one of our cloisters? They will not work here. I’m afraid your heart will need to wait to see you again... But will you be alive or dead for your reunion?”
Imperator Circle included Imperator Hall, Magna Annalis, and several other buildings that seemed governmental. Imperator Hall was undoubtedly the star though. It stretched up along a steep hill at the far end, spired and gleaming and lording over the circle.
Magna Annalis sat in the center of the courtyard. It was the most unusual structure Elloven had seen since she’d died, composed of four thick-columned buildings in a slightly askew square formation. There were windows only at the top, near where each building came to a thin, needled point. Connecting them were bridges enclosed in glass. All around the strange campus were gardens of golden flowers, brighter and plumper than any she’d seen yet. Where the buildings obscured the sunlight, the flora climbed the brick walls in a winding pattern.
She read the etching in the massive, circled stones beneath her feet, shaped like a sundial:
Magna Annalis
