The Barrister points to a spot on the wall, where new footage plays. In it, Javier is speaking to Dior. “We can be happy in Myriad. We can have the life you once claimed to want. My covenant will make provision for you, ensuring you’re able to practice medicine for the rest of your Firstlife—on anyone—without consequence. If you defect to Troika, they’ll insist you practice only on Troikans. You know they will. You’ll be in the same situation, only you’ll be stuck, with no way out.”

    In the video, he caresses her temple, and I stiffen. Does no one else see the shadow he left on her skin? An oily residue now absorbing onto her pores.

    Did he...infect her? Without the possession of a Myriadian General?

    I can’t allow this. “He’s wrong. He’s so wrong,” I call. “Don’t listen to his lies.”

    “Order,” the judge demands.

    In the present, Javier stands and says, “I accept the covenant offered by Myriad. I pledge my allegiance to Myriad.”

    Gasps abound through the crowd, some of shock, some of glee.

    Dior ducks her head, and my nails cut into my palms. I meet Levi’s gaze, and this time he offers me a small smile. A sad smile. He’s expecting the worst from this point.

    “I said order!” Bang, bang.

    I want to fall apart, to scream and to rage. To hug Levi and shake Dior. “Remember the Light.”

    Bang, bang, bang.

    —Prepare yourself, Miss Lockwood.—Levi’s voice whispers through the Grid.

    “Javier,” Dior whispers. “I can’t. They helped me. I don’t want to get sick again. I want—”

    “If you defect today,” he tells her, his tone cajoling, “we’ll be enemies. I won’t be able to help you. You have to trust me, baby. I’m doing what’s best for us. I’m doing what’s best for you. I know you hope you can one day see your first love again. But your father is in Myriad, and he needs you. My contract provides for him, as well. On the condition you drop this trial.”

    She closes her eyes, tears catching in her lashes. In that moment, I see the shadows whirling underneath her skin. My stomach churns. She is infected. The disease has spread. The beginning of a pandemic?

    “I’m sorry, Levi. I’m so sorry, Ten,” she says. “But I’m... I’m withdrawing my request to defect. I choose to remain with Myriad.”

    Those on Myriad’s side cheer. Horror rips through me because I know what she doesn’t. A ransom must be paid—in Lifeblood.

    “No!” I leap to my feet.

    Deacon grabs my wrist, holding me in place. By the time I wrench free, Killian is at my side. He wraps his strong arms around me, his grip a shackle.

    “There’s nothing you can do, lass. I’m sorry.”

    I struggle against him, determined to reach Levi, to protect and shield the General who has so often protected and shielded me. I remained chained to him.

    “Let me go!” Levi doesn’t deserve to die. He’s done nothing wrong and everything right. He’s a good man, and as I’m learning, there are too few of those. “Now, Killian.”

    “I’m sorry,” he rasps.

    Levi stands, his head as high as I’d wanted Dior’s to be. He approaches the Barrister, who is given a blade.

    “Kneel,” the Barrister says with a cold smile.

    Levi only raises his head higher. “You are not my king. You have no power over me but that which I willingly grant you. I gladly die for the chance to help Dior Nichols.”

    “No,” I scream, bucking and kicking to gain my freedom. “Please! Don’t do this!”

    Killian only tightens his hold, nearly crushing my bones. A warm tear splashes onto my cheek, but it’s not my own.

    —Levi! You have to run. Okay? All right?—I throw the words across the Grid.

    He offers me another small smile. —I have no regrets, Miss Lockwood. I will enter into the Rest knowing I did everything I was meant to do. I helped my realm to the best of my ability. I died to give a human Light, whether she accepted it or not. So let my Lifeblood spill. Let it speak throughout the ages to come. Let it say darkness may win a battle but goodwill always wins the war. And you...forgive her and fight for what’s right. Let nothing stop you.—

    “Wait. Wait!” Dior shouts as Javier leaps over the bar to reach her. “What’s happening? Why do you have a knife?”

    The Barrister’s smile widens—he strikes.

    The blades slashes through Levi’s throat. Slashes through Shell and spirit alike.

    “Noooo!” I break free of Killian at last and bound over the bar to throw myself into the Barrister, knocking him to the floor. Fury and grief have gained control of me, and they use my fists to punch his horrible face.

    He’s not smiling now. No, he isn’t smiling now.

    Strong arms fetter my waist and wrench me backward. Again I punch and kick to regain my freedom.

    —Stop...stop, Miss Lockwood... Ten...—

    Levi’s voice penetrates my awareness. The guard who grabbed me releases me when Killian punches him. I dive down, skidding across the floor to reach Levi’s side and take his hand.

    I fight sobs. —We can get you to a Healer.—

    —A life for a life. The price must always be paid. You know this.—

    “No. No!” I shake my head as I gather him close, intending to lift him. I’ll carry him if I must. But I’m not strong enough, not right now, and all I can do is hold him and cry. “Not yours. Never yours.”