Page 105 of Winterveil

Once again, Klaudia didn’t quite understand the tenor of his voice, but Crispin did. He swallowed, still looking vaguely despondent, and then said, “This one is for Nadiya.”

As Nadiya walked back over, Klaudia’s mind began to whir. If Deckard’s first mission had been for her, and the clue was in the literature connected to the name engraved on her cuff, then . . .

“I have an idea,” Klaudia said.

“Of course you do,” said Nadiya appreciatively.

Klaudia took a moment to examine the map with Giselle. Then, as they walked, Klaudia explained her theory.

“If this test is for you, Nadiya,” she said, “then the clue has to be in The Last Man. The book begins with an introduction where Mary Shelley recounts a visit she took to the cave of the Cumaean Sibyl. The Sibyl is a fabled prophetess who had visions of the future. Mary allegedly found markings on the wall of the cave that gave her the inspiration for the book.”

Nadiya was nodding along, but her expression was skeptical. “I don’t think Deckard has hidden away an ancient seer somewhere in Traumstadt.”

“No,” Klaudia agreed, “but there is a cave.”

Nadiya’s brow wrinkled. Julian frowned.

“A metaphorical one,” she said. “After we destroyed the statue, it revealed a tunnel that led out of the arena and to the cells where you were being kept. There were markings on the wall—I didn’t think anything of them until now.”

“Strings of numbers,” added Giselle. “I thought they were random, too. But I guess I was underestimating Deckard.”

“You were the one who put it together for me.” Klaudia glanced at Julian. “The numbers are coordinates. At least, I think. We’ll see in a moment if I’m right.”

There was no need to enter the tunnel again—Giselle could recollect all the numbers she had seen on the wall. Klaudia was just as unnerved as she was impressed. It wasn’t a flashy talent, like Nadiya’s marksmanship or even like Julian’s oratory skills, but the fact that it was so intrinsic, that it required no training or cultivation, made it seem unnatural. Like a real-life superpower.

Klaudia shook her head, as if to banish the fanciful thoughts. The lack of sleep and the surrealness of the artificial environment were clearly doing strange things to her brain.

She led them to another small clearing, on the eastern edge of Traumstadt. It was enclosed by enormously tall pine trees, their branches wreathed in snow. A mist had overtaken the area—Deckard’s work, of course—and Klaudia could scarcely glimpse the tops of the trees.

She knelt to the ground there and began to brush away the snow. Giselle immediately crouched down to help. Within several moments, they had revealed a large, flat stone. When Klaudia rapped on it with a knuckle, there was an answering echo.

“It’s hollow,” Giselle said, eyes widening.

With some difficulty, they turned the stone over. On its underside was a small latch. Klaudia opened it, and a single item slid out into the snow.

A pistol, pure black with a ring of gold around the barrel.

“Auric,” Nadiya said. Her voice had a taut quality. “That’s an Auric gun.”

“I didn’t know they were into weapons manufacturing,” said Julian.

“It’s a new development.” Nadiya took the gun, turning it over in her hands. “They delivered trucks of them to Valeran for us to test. Apparently Auric is angling for a contract with the DOD. As if they don’t have a deep enough reach into government affairs.”

“A good businessman always sees where there’s more to take.”

“Apparently.” Nadiya unloaded the magazine and examined its contents. “There’s only one bullet.”

“Great.” Julian let out a breath. “Deckard is a real prick.”

“Another one of his taunts.” Klaudia felt her previous sense of determination evaporate. Had she led them astray? Fallen into another one of Deckard’s coy little traps?

“Maybe not.” Giselle rose to her feet and inclined her head, lifting a hand to shield her eyes as she stared directly up into the white-gray sky. “Do you see that? In the branches?”

Klaudia had to shield her eyes and squint, too. But when her vision adjusted, she saw the faintest blur of something hanging at the very top of the tree. A dark smudge, like a shape under ice.

“It looks like a supply bag,” said Nadiya.

She glanced over at Crispin, an unspoken question in her stare. His expression was almost pained, but he nodded.