“Only the evidence of common sense,” Nicomidi said. “How could her agathios, who accompanied her everywhere, not have been privy to her plans?”
“Assuming this was a plan—” Basel began.
“Your efforts to protect your protégé grow tiresome, Basel,” Nicomidi said. “The decision is in the full Council’s hands now.” He turned, cloak flaring behind him, and stalked out of the cell. Maya stared after him for a moment, then looked at Basel.
“You can’t keep me in here,” she whispered. “Not if something’s happened to Jaedia. Please.”
He sighed. “I’m afraid my say in the matter is limited, but I will do everything I can. Perhaps Jaedia will contact us soon with an explanation. But …”
“You know she couldn’t do this!”
Basel’s eyes were hooded. “I thought I did.”
He turned to leave as well. Prodominus, stroking his beard, looked down at Maya and cleared his throat.
“This will not be easy, girl,” he said. “Stay strong.”
“Please,” Maya said.
“The path the Chosen have laid is always a difficult one.” And Prodominus, too, turned away.
*
“You are an interesting experiment, sha’deia.”
Maya hung by her wrists from one wall of a brick cistern, pinioned and helpless. Her shoulders were screaming with pain.
This isn’t real.
Hollis Plaguetouch regarded her with cold eyes. He’d shed his coat with its high collar, and she could see the black spider clamped on the back of his neck, legs digging into his skin.
This is a dream. Hollis was dead, and Jaedia had rescued her. Unless that was a dream, and I’ve been here all along …
“This makes twice that you have stumbled into long-laid plans,” Hollis said. “Coincidence? Perhaps.”
“You’re not Hollis,” Maya said.
“No.” The legs of the black spider twitched. “Hollis Plaguetouch is dead.”
“Who are you? What do you want with me?”
“I don’t owe you answers, little sha’deia. As to what I want with you, that’s the real question, isn’t it?” He stepped closer and reached out a finger to touch the Thing in her chest. “Is this experiment worth the vexation you cause me?”
“I’m not your experiment.” Maya struggled to pull away from him.
“You’ve crossed the threshold, haven’t you? Yes, I can see it. Poor little sha’deia. It must be painful. The world no longer welcomes our kind.” He cocked his head, and the black spider twitched again. “Are you the one I’ve been waiting for all these years?”
“Whoever you are,” Maya said, “whatever you are, I’m not—”
“We shall see,” Hollis interrupted. “Assuming you survive.”
His finger traced a circle around the Thing, and in its wake Maya could feel her flesh bubble and change …
*
Maya screamed until she woke up, sweating. She lay on the thin, lumpy mattress, one hand pressed to the Thing. Her skin was unmarred, and the nightmare was fading, but waking was very nearly worse.
She had no idea how long it had been. Only a week, she guessed, but some part of her mind insisted it was months, years, and she had no way to be certain. The cell was lit by a sunlamp whose radiance never wavered. Twice a day (once? three times?) a slot opened in the door and a tray was shoved through with a simple meal—bread, cheese, dried meat. She gnawed at it, from habit more than hunger, and drank water from the tiny basin, pissed into the drain. The rest of the time she spent lying in bed.
The cell became more dreamlike, and the dreams that plagued her whenever she closed her eyes became more like reality. It wasn’t only Hollis she saw in her nightmares. She lived the day she’d been taken to the Order, a struggling little girl; only Va’aht turned on her parents after taking Gyre’s eye and carved them into bloody chunks. Or it was Jaedia who slaughtered her family, Maya herself doing the killing, her mother begging her to stop as she burned her to ash, Gyre’s remaining eye filling with hatred. The nameless rebel girl stepped onto a pyre, dancing as her skin burned away. Beq came to her, in the dark of their tent, and they kissed and fumbled with each other’s clothes, until suddenly the other girl’s mouth was full of sharp, tearing teeth and her fingers cut like knives.
Eventually—after what felt like an eternity—there came a day when she woke and found her head clear. Her body felt numb, as though she’d jumped into a river swollen with snowmelt. She rolled out of bed, shivering, and took a few moments to gather the strength to stand.
What’s wrong with me? She had faint memories of illnesses as a girl, fevers and nightmares like this that no doctor had been able to explain. That’s why Baselanthus gave me the Thing. She touched the little arcana again and found the swelling around it had subsided. With an effort, Maya got to her feet. Her legs felt shaky, as though she’d run for hours. It was an effort to squat over the drain, but she managed.
Afterward, her head still feeling clear, she dug her journal out of her pack for the first time since the Kyriliarchs had visited her. She wasn’t sure if the report would do her any good, but it was something. They can’t just keep me in here forever. Can they?
There was a knock at the door, which made her jump. Maya hurriedly stuffed the journal and pen back in her pack, heedless of ink smudges, and sat back on the bed.
“Come in,” she said.
The door opened, and Beq stood between the two white-armored guards, a fresh tray of food in her hands. Maya jumped to her feet, then hesitated.
“This is real, right?” Her voice felt scratchy. “I’m not dreaming?”
“I don’t think so,” Beq said. “But I’m not sure how I’d know.”
Beq set the tray of food down and came forward. Maya kept still until Beq’s arms were around her, then wrapped the other girl in a tight hug, head pressed against Beq’s shoulder.
“If this was a dream,” Maya said, her voice muffled, “at this point you’d bite my head off or turn into a vulpi or something.”
“That’s alarming,” Beq said.
“It’s been …” Maya found her eyes full of tears and rubbed them on Beq’s shirt. “How long have I been down here?”
“A week,” Beq said, pulling away slightly. “I tried to get a chance to come sooner, but they told me you were ill. How do you feel?”
“Like I’ve gone crazy.” Maya took a deep breath and wiped her eyes again. “But better today.”
“Here, sit down.” Beq gestured to the bed, and Maya flopped onto it, while Beq sat cross-legged on the unmetal floor. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
“How did you get them to let you in here?” Maya said.
Beq grinned, idly twisting a dial on her spectacles. “I called in a few favors with the servants. Traded some shifts.”
“The Council didn’t send you?” When Beq shook her head, Maya said, “Have you heard what they’re saying about Jaedia?”
“It’s all anyone’s talking about,” Beq said. “All over the Forge.”