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“I’ll help you. And Orso will too.”

“Why would Orso help me?”

“To get back his key, of course,” said Gregor. “Along with any other Occidental treasures the man’s been hoarding. Our opponent has stolen two items from Orso, and seems to have acquired a third — this imperiat. No doubt there’s more.”

“No doubt.” She suppressed the flicker of anxiety in her belly. She wasn’t sure what seemed harder — delivering founderkin to Gregor, or returning a treasure she wasn’t supposed to have. “So I help you get this…this justice of yours, and then you let me go?”

“In essence.”

She shook her head. “Justice…God. Why are you doing all this? Why are you out here risking your life?”

“Is justice such an odd thing to desire?”

“Justice is a luxury.”

“No,” said Gregor. “It is not. It is a right. And it is a right that has long been denied.” He stared out at the city. “The chance for reform…for real, genuine reform for this city…I would shed every drop of blood in my body for such a thing. And then, of course, there is the fact that if we fail, then a vicious person will possess tools of near-divine power. Which I, personally, would find quite bad.” He took out the key to her bond and held it out. “You can do the honors yourself, I believe.”

“I thought Orso was crazy,” she said, unlocking the bond. “But you’re really crazy.”

“I’d thought you would be more amenable to the idea than others,” he said lightly.

“And why’s that?”

“For the same reason I think wearing that bond irked you so, Sancia,” he said. “And the same reason you conceal the scars on your back.”

She froze and slowly turned to stare at him. “What?” she said softly.

“I am a traveled man, Sancia,” he said. “I know the look of you. I have seen such things before. Though I hope I never will agai—”

She stepped forward, sticking her finger in his face. “No,” she said fiercely. “No.”

He drew back, startled.

“I am not having this conversation with you,” she said. “Not now. Maybe not ever.”

He blinked. “All right.”

She slowly lowered her finger. “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me,” she said. Then she walked back indoors.

She stalked upstairs, found a bedroom, and shut and locked the door. She stood there in the darkened room, breathing hard.

Then a voice spoke up in her mind: <That was a bit of an overreaction, wasn’t it, kid?>

<Clef!> she said. <Holy shit! You’re alive!>

<As much as a key could be, yeah.>

<How long have you been…I don’t know, there?>

<Just now. That was the first time I’ve seen the captain look scared of anyone. How about getting me the hell out of your shoe?>

She sat down in the middle of the floor, hauled her boot off, and held him in her bare hands. Then she pummeled him with questions. <Where did you go, Clef? How did you do that thing with the gravity rig? Are you hurt? Are you all right?>

He was silent for a long time. <No,> he said in a quiet voice. <No, I’m not all right. But…we’ll get to that. First — where are we? Are we in, like, a mansion?>

She tried to catch him up as fast as she could.

<So,> he said. <You’re…working for the captain now?>

<Kind of. I like to think it’s more of a partner thing, personally.>

<He can still kill you at any time, right?>

<Well. Yeah?>

<Then you’re not partners. You’re also working for this Orso guy? The guy who tried to buy me? And you’re going to steal, uh, me back for him?>

<I think I vaguely agreed to that.>

<How’s that going to work?>

<If you haven’t figured out yet that I’m making this up as I go, Clef, I don’t know what to tell you.>

Clef said nothing for a bit. A flock of floating lanterns trickled through the street below, casting pulsing pink light on the ceiling.

<How did you do that thing with the gravity rig, Clef?> she asked. <How did you make it control the gravity of…of everything? And what happened to you?>

<It’s…hard for me to explain,> he said, sighing. <It’s all a matter of boundaries. I can’t make a scrived device do anything beyond its own boundaries. I can’t make a rig that heats up iron then turn that iron into clay or snow or whatever, in other words.>

<So?>

<So, with the gravity rig, its boundaries were really, really big, and really, really vague. It gave me a lot to work with. Even though the device itself couldn’t stand the strain — because the more a rig pushes against its boundaries, the more it falls apart. And when I made it do that, I…I remembered something. And then I fell asleep, and dreamed.>

<You fell…asleep? What did you remember?>

<I remembered…someone else who’d been able to manipulate gravity. Someone from long ago…A shadow of a person to me now.> His voice took on a dreamy cadence. <He could make anything float…and whenever he wished, he could fly through the air, like a sparrow in the night…>

Sancia’s skin crawled. <But…Clef, the only people who’ve ever been able to fly were the hierophants.>

<Yeah. I know. I think…I think I was remembering the person who made me, Sancia.>

She didn’t know what to say to that.

<The hierophants are all dead, aren’t they?> he asked.

<Yes.>

<That makes me feel…alone,> he said quietly. <And frightened.>

<Why frightened?>

<Because when I dreamed, I…I remembered my making. I can show you, if you like.>

<What do you mean, show me?>

<Here. I’m going to put something into your mind now. Something small. Think of it like you’re in the water, swimming, and I’m going to throw you a line. Focus, and grab on to it.>

<O…Okay?>

There was a pause. And then…she felt it.

Or, rather, she heard it: it was a quiet, rhythmic tap-tap, tap, tap—a soft series of beats and pulses, echoing through her mind. She listened to it, reached out, grasped it, and then…

The beats unfolded, expanded, and enveloped her, filling her thoughts.

And then the memory took her.

Sand. Darkness. Quiet, anxious mutterings from somewhere nearby. She was lying on a stone surface, staring up into the darkness.

Midnight, she thought to herself. When the world grinds to a stop, and then restarts. She knew that — but she didn’t know how she knew it.

Then a flame, bright and hot, molten metal glowing in the shadows. She felt pain, fierce and terrible, piercing her, running her through, and she heard herself cry out — but it wasn’t her, she was someone else, she knew that — and then, suddenly, she felt herself fill this form, this function, this design.