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He was right. I knew he was right.

But a piece of myself stayed behind on those cobblestones.

Garrick pulled me up and shoved me inside the carriage.

I sank onto the bench beside August, who sat motionless, eyes empty. Beatrice and Adeline slumped on the opposite seat. Garrick vaulted up to the driver’s position.

“Go!”

The carriage lurched forward over cobblestones.

I pressed my forehead against the window, watching Syra’s body be swallowed by the crowd. The opera house collapsed behind her, flames eating through what remained, smoke pouring into the February sky.

Beside me, August sat like a statue. Eyes empty. The pendant still glowed at his chest. Five Weavers erased. Syra dead. Adeline burned. Beatrice drained to nothing.

But August was here. In this carriage. Away from Elias. The extraction had worked—barely, bloodily, at a cost I hadn't been prepared to pay. But it had worked.

The carriage rattled on through London’s dark streets. Mira attended to Adeline's burned hands. And I sat beside the man I’d come to save.

CHAPTER 15

LILY

Adeline’s scream tore through the night air. Whatever had been keeping her under was gone. Her back arched, body convulsing against Garrick’s arms.

“Lily! Help me!” Mira’s voice was raw with panic. “She’s waking up.”

I lunged across the carriage, helping Mira hold Adeline as she thrashed. Her eyes flew open, wild with pain and confusion.

Adeline had always smelled like rose water and the particular cleanness of expensive things. But now the air around her was acrid—burning flesh and hair.

“Hold her steady!” Mira's hands glowed with soft golden light as she pressed them against Adeline's shoulders, trying to ease the agony enough that Adeline could breathe.

“It hurts.” Adeline’s voice broke. “Oh god, it hurts.”

“I know. I know.” Mira’s magic pulsed brighter, and some of the wildness left Adeline’s eyes. “But you need to stay still. Please, Adeline. Stay still.”

Mrs. Hartwick’s door flew open before we’d even reached the steps. She stood in the entrance, lamp in hand, her weathered face going pale as the light fell across Adeline’s hands and the bloodstain that bloomed across my bodice.

“Sweet merciful Christ,” she breathed.

Marigold appeared behind her, eyes wide. “You’re back! You’re—“ She stopped. Counted heads. “Where’s Syra?”

The question opened a silence none of us could close.

No one answered. No one could.

“Inside,” Mrs. Hartwick said, her voice shaking but firm. “Hurry.”

Garrick lifted Adeline as gently as he could, but she still screamed when his arms brushed against her burns. Mira stayed close, one hand on Adeline’s shoulder, maintaining the pain-dulling magic.

“The bedroom,” Mrs. Hartwick directed. “Mine. It’s the closest. And you—“ She pointed at Marigold. “Run to Dr. Crawford’s. Tell him to come immediately. Tell him it’s burns. Severe burns.”

Marigold ran.

I helped Mira guide Beatrice inside. She could barely walk, each step a struggle.

“The settee,” Mira said. “Lay her down there. I need to see to Adeline first but⁠—“