“Done,” she says, waxen. There are dark circles under her eyes. “You can go now.”

    “What’s your problem with me? Besides the obvious, I mean. Yes, I made mistakes and people got killed. But you punished me, right?”

    A flush of shame spills over her cheeks.

    “The spiked board,” I add, just to be clear. “That was you.”

    A pause. Then a single, curt nod.

    “Who helped you?” Most likely Raanan. But who else? I remember three.

    Her scowl returns in a hurry. “I convinced the others to act against you. The crime is mine and mine alone.”

    I admire her loyalty. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth.” Because of Meredith, I know how deeply I hurt this girl. She misses her boyfriend, and I am to blame. “The day of my Firstdeath, I protected Killian because he’s important to me, as your boyfriend was—is—to you. No matter his realm affiliation. Protecting him was instinctive. I just wish... I wish we weren’t at war. No battles, no deaths.”

    I’m as bad as Archer and Killian, aren’t I? Using every opportunity to work my agenda.

    The fight drains out of her, and she reclines. “I feel so guilty. The Resurrection... I’m not going to vote for Claus. We need the Conduit too badly.”

    Her willingness to let go of her boyfriend for the needs of the realm tears me up. “I know,” I say softly. “I want to vote for Archer or Meredith, but...”

    My brands begin to glow, a short message from Clay hovering over my palm.

    We’ve got problems.

    Can’t catch a break. “I have to go.” I jump to my feet, saying, “Dior might be in trouble.”

    “Go,” she says, and waves me away. “And, Ten?”

    I pause. I think this is the first time she’s used my name.

    Raanan enters the room, his features tight with concern. “You okay? I just heard.”

    Elizabeth’s focus remains on me. “I forgive you.”

    “I forgive you, too.” I return to her side to hug her before patting Raanan on the shoulder. “Both of you.”

    “Me?” He snorts. “What’d I do besides look too good for your peace of mind?”

    I roll my eyes and race out. I take a Stairwell, messaging Levi along the way. At my apartment, I collect my Shell and cover the hands with leather gloves. Consumed by urgency, I race to the Veil.

    Kayla, who is at the Eye, speaks to me through the Grid. —All clear.—

    Through the water...whoosh...I land inside Prynne, greeted by chaos.

    Javier is whaling on Clay, who is doing his best to stop the human without inflicting injury. Dior is screaming, begging the boys to stop.

    Heart a thunderstorm in my chest, I shove the combatants apart. The gloves prevent skin-to-skin contact.

    Worked into a rage, Javier shouts, “You don’t touch her. You don’t ever touch her.” He tries to bypass me to get to Clay. I shove him with more force, and he stumbles back.

    “Enough,” I command. “Calm down or head for the mountains.”

    He huffs and puffs like the big bad wolf, but he stays put.

    Clay rubs his jaw, his Shell’s skin shredded. He’s always been a lover, not a fighter, but I’m proud of him. He held his own.

    “She had a seizure.” He drains the vial of manna hanging around his neck. “I rolled her to her side and, well, you saw the results.”

    Dior rushes to Javier. She rips a piece of material from her T-shirt and covers the cuts on his knuckles. “Thank you for protecting me, baby. I love you so much.”

    Protecting her? From Clay? This doesn’t strike me as very Dior-like behavior. Has Penumbra strengthened her feelings for Javier, a meathead willing to sleep with anyone breathing? Black veins now wind across every inch of visible flesh.

    I bite the inside of my cheek. “Why don’t you take a break, Clay, and—”

    “No,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m staying. I’m useful here.”

    “Fine.” I hold up my hands, palms out. Stupid free will. I glare at Javier. “If you attack Clay or any other Troikan, you’ll have to deal with me. You remember what happened the last time we touched, don’t you?”

    Free will works both ways. I can choose to kick his butt.

    He glares right back.

    To err on the side of caution, I message Levi to request a handful of TLs and TMs to help Clay. We’ve kept the location secret to protect Dior and Javier from Myriad but—if Killian is right—the realm doesn’t really want to steal either one of them.

    I try to speak with Dior, but she steps back every time I step forward.

    “Will you just go?” She rubs her arms, as if she’s cold.

    “You heard her.” Javier points to the door. “Go.”

    I’d take it personally, but I think I know what they’re feeling toward me. Repulsion. Their darkness is a revolting pulse against my skin, one I can’t wait to escape.

    Clay hugs me and whispers, “Believe it or not, I’m making strides with Dior. I can’t give up.”

    I understand, and I admire his tenacity, his tender heart. “Message me if you need me.”

    “Will do.”

    Good luck, I mouth and return home.

    * * *

    Midnight. 2:01. 4:39. I pace through my bedroom, the Blessing and Cursing clutched in my hands. I continue to watch the clock.