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  My hand flutters over my mouth, my eyes widening, my heart swelling. Pi is the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter. A circle never ends.

  Zero! For the second time today, tears well in my eyes. This is supposed to be a symbol of our relationship, isn't it?

  "I made it," he admits, practically growling now. "I make things. Usually weapons. Which is unimportant right now." Scowling, he presses my thumb in the middle of the symbol, and a soft vibration travels up my arm. A second later, his comm buzzes.

  "See?" he says. "If you apply pressure, I'll be summoned through an electrical pulse in my data pad. I'll be able to track you--help you--wherever you are."

  I'm not just trembling as I accept; I'm melting all over again. I place the leather cord around my neck and hide the symbol under my shirt. "The fact that you made it makes me love it a thousand times more." As his features soften, I add, "I--I want you to have this."

  I step out of my Shell, and motion for him to step out of his. As soon as he complies, I slip off the pistol ring and slide it onto his finger. His finger is much bigger than mine, of course, and the band only fits his pinkie.

  We return to our Shells. "It belonged to Meredith, my grandmother," I tell him. "It's a piece of her...a piece of me. Of who and what I am."

  He looks at the ring, then at me, then the ring again. His eyes close for a moment, and his expression...he begins to glow, as if he's been lit from the inside out.

  "Thank you, lass. I will cherish the ring always." He gently tugs a lock of my hair. "And I hope you'll use the necklace if ever your life is in danger. Promise me you will."

  "If ever I'm in the Land of the Harvest and my life is in danger...and summoning you won't endanger you...I promise I'll use it." He can't pass through the Veil of Wings to reach me in Troika, but I suspect he would try if he thought I was in trouble--try until he died.

  chapter twenty-one

  * * *

  "There is power in agreement."

  --Troika

  I'm still reeling over Killian's gift--and his promise--when I step through the Veil of Wings.

  Levi is waiting for me, looking dapper in his customary pin-striped suit. No one else is around, and my anger returns full force.

  I plant my fists on my hips and glare up at him. "Why didn't you tell me about my mother?"

  His lips compress, forming a thin line. "I planned to tell you after I'd found a Barrister for her case."

  "Good news. You've found one. I'll be her Barrister."

  His eyelids narrow to slits. "That is the very reason I planned to find a Barrister before speaking with you. I knew you'd volunteer."

  "I'll fight harder than anyone else. I'll--"

  "No, Miss Lockwood. You won't." He leans down, getting in my face. "This is part of your problem. You think you'll fight harder than anyone else, because you love her. The truth is, we all fight our hardest for all Troikans and all possible Troikans, because we love them all. We need you fighting Penumbra, not court cases that could get you killed."

  Pop. The air deflates from my anger, and I push out a breath. "You're right. I'm sorry."

  A confused pause. Then he nods and straightens, smoothing his hands over his lapels. "I am. But I didn't expect to get through to you so quickly."

  "Maybe Killian is a good influence on me?" I ask cheekily.

  He tweaks my nose, but says nothing more.

  "Is it time for my debriefing?"

  "Only with me." With a tilt of his chin, he urges me forward. "Tell me everything."

  I relay everything I said to Brigitte and share what Killian revealed: the reason for Victor's abduction, and the results.

  "The spy is good," he says on a sigh. "There's been no suspicious behavior among your team."

  "Maybe we're looking in the wrong place. What if the spy is higher up? Someone with full clearance, who can access our feed and study our cases with zero redactions."

  He frowns. "One of our Generals?"

  I despise the thought, but why not?

  We enter and exit a Gate. In the Capital of New, the streets are congested with citizens headed to training or work or home after a night shift. Everyone who spots us stops to bow. Even Elizabeth and Raanan.

  Nico is with the redheaded twins who were friends with Archer, and Hoshi and Rebel are leaving a manna restaurant. Levi nods at everyone, and I mimic him, doing my best to appear oh so chill, even though I want to shout, We're equals! Stop bowing.

  I also want to shout, Vote for Archer! No, no, vote for Meredith! No, wait. Vote for Archer! The Resurrection approaches, and Troika could really use a third Conduit.

  "The Conduit who died this year," I say. "What was her--his?--name?"

  "His. Orion Giovante. A good man. Strong. Brutally honest. A little hotheaded. A warrior who preferred to lead his army on the ground rather than from behind the scenes. He refused to leave wounded soldiers in battle and died trying to save them."

  He sounds amazing. "We really need him, don't we?" I ask softly.

  "We really need five more Conduits."

  Not an option right now. Unless... "If Myriad can make Abrogates, why can't we make Conduits?"

  "If I knew the answer, Miss Lockwood, we'd already have more Conduits."

  We take a Stairwell to Levi's neighborhood. At his house, I leave my Shell by the front door, knowing he will beam it to my apartment later. Note to self: learn to beam. We go straight to the playroom. Jeremy and Millicent are stacking blocks. Or, more accurately, Millicent is stacking and Jeremy is knocking down.

  Jeremy spots me, squeals and crawls toward me. Crawls!

  "Dude. You've grown leaps and bounds overnight!" I'm so proud I could burst.

  "He's strong and wise," Millicent says with a grin.

  I pick him up, carry him to the toy box and sit down with him in my lap. Golden sunlight streams through the oval window, stroking us both as he selects a squeaky ball for us--nope, he rolls the ball away from me and giggles.

  Millicent excuses herself, granting us privacy, and Levi shuts the door. He leans against the wall, his arms crossed. "I'm sorry to report I'm stumped by Lina's warning. My one certainty is that you are the mouse."

  The subject change throws me, but I rebound quickly. "Yeah. I figured. Maybe the henhouse is Troika? I'd guess my apartment, but henhouse suggests more than one hen, and I live alone." I scrub a hand down my face. "Maybe I should visit Lina again."

  He winces. "I received word she asked to be released. We had to let her go. We couldn't violate her free will."

  My first instinct is blast him for failing to inform me the second he found out. But honestly? I should be grateful he told me anything at all. He doesn't owe me information. As a General, he must deal with thousands of subordinates and all their loved ones and friends.

  More than that, he suggested I go see Lina days before I agreed to do so. Had I gotten my butt in gear sooner, I could have spent more time with her. I could have had a second chance to talk to her about going to court.

  "Where is she?" I ask.

  "Good question. Not with Myriad, I don't think. They would have tried to use her against you."

  True.

  He gives me a half smile. "I think you'll be safest in your apartment. Your team can stay with you. I'll station men and women I trust in and around the rest of the building."

  I don't want anyone endangered on my behalf, but I also know preparation can mean the difference between victory and defeat. "All right. Yes. Thank you."

  He blinks at me. "What's with you today? What happened to your stubborn refusal to obey orders?"

  "I'm not stupid. Not all the time," I add with a grumble. I kick out my legs and tap my shoes together. Tap, tap, tap. The rhythm sooths me. "Aren't you tired of this war, Levi?" I am, and I've only been part of it for a few months. "I crave peace."

  "Victory matters more than fatigue," he says, offering no more.

  "Have the realms ever attempted peace talks?"

  "No. W
hy would we? We can't exist in harmony. We want the same prize--humans--and only one of us can win."

  "Sharing is caring."

  "To share with Myriad, we must compromise. When we compromise we lose the essence of who we are."

  Tap, tap, tap. "I'm going to prove you wrong, Levi. I'm going to fight for peace. One person at a time."

  His brand glows. "Do what you feel you must." He checks the message, and his good mood fades. "I've had a group of TLs following Brigitte since she left the cafe. They were ambushed by MLs, and our injured are returning." He waves toward the door. "Go to the Sanatorium. Today's training will come from the Healers. You need to better understand their job."

  Eager to help, I blow Jeremy a kiss and head out. Light strokes me, warms and fills me. I inhale deeply, exhale slowly and try to push the rays through my pores. To warm and fill others.

  The rays fizzle, and my disappointment is keen.

  I spend the next few hours at the Sanatorium, doing whatever my Healer--Dawn--tells me. And for the most part, my patients are kind and grateful.

  Then I enter the last room on the second floor.

  Elizabeth is perched on the edge of a gurney. She's wearing a bra and a pair of panties, and there are gashes all over her.

  She's hemorrhaging, being drained of Light.

  This is going to be fun.

  She scowls at me. "Why are you here?"

  "Levi's orders." I set my tray of supplies on the table next to her bed. "Let's get you patched up before you bleed to Second-death." I lift a fat syringe filled with concentrated manna.

  "I'm not going to let you stick me. You'll enjoy it," she mutters, and bats at my arm. "Healer! Someone! Anyone!"

  "Come on. Don't be a baby." I sidestep her and insert the needle into one of her many injuries.

  She hisses and snaps, "Your mom is a baby."

  "A mom joke? So mature." I empty the syringe and drag a chair next to her bed. "I don't care how rude you are. I'm staying here until I know you're healing properly."

  "Whatever." She grabs another syringe from the tray and injects another wound. After a few seconds, the medication eases some of her pain, allowing her to spread ointment and apply a bandage.

  "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.

  As promised, my team is inside my apartment while guards patrol the rest of the building. Lina's song plays through my mind again and again, and I exhaust myself digging for answers.

  One fox in the henhouse. In two days, he'll try to eat his mouse.

  Two days have passed. Today is the day. Anytime now.

  Three, yes, three warnings will come. By four five six, you'll be glum. Look, look, look, for the seven. Eight, nine, Ten is in heaven...

  Does "Ten is in heaven" mean I'm going to experience Second-death and enter into the Rest?

  My nerves are razed, my calm facade nothing but rubble. I'm not ready to die. I have too much to do.
r />   The lights suddenly switch off, a total eclipse of darkness, startling me.

  My brands glow as the lights flick back on, and I moan, expecting the worst. Levi says: Every TL in your building just fell into a state of unconsciousness. The fox is in the henhouse. I'm on my way. Tell me you're safe.

  Three warnings. This must be the second, the lights the first. Zero! My apartment is the henhouse. Because I'm not alone anymore. My team is here with me. Victor, Deacon, Elizabeth, Reed and Kayla.

  A kernel of panic unfurls. Is everyone okay?

  "Guys," I call, even as I respond to Levi, letting him know I'm on my feet.

  Silence.

  A thump echoes from the walls, and icy dread slides down the ridges of my spine. The third warning?

  My nerve endings throb as I glance at the clock. It's 4:56.

  4. 5. 6.

  By four five six, you'll be glum.

  The numbers in the song--four five six. The time of the attack?

  Suddenly the hinges on my bedroom door splinter, the entrance swinging open to reveal a scowling Victor, a gun raised, aimed and ready.

  chapter twenty-two

  * * *

  "Never rely on anyone else."

  --Myriad

  My first thought is, He's here to whisk me away from danger.

  My second, He's the fox.

  A sense of betrayal sends me stumbling back. Lifeblood is splattered over his face and clothes, and it's not his. He's uninjured.

  He hurt my team.

  He fires a Dazer at me. I dodge and swing my swords, blazing shards flinging his way, knocking the gun out of his palm. He's fast and palms a semiautomatic, quickly emptying the clip. I block the way Levi taught me. The bullets ping off the metal and fall to the floor.

  "Someone's improved," Victor says with a cold smile.

  Levi is on his way. I need to stall. "How did you keep Myriad informed of my activities while you were Killian's captive?" I demand.

  "How else? I planned ahead and left a mic in your kitchen. Other places, too." He changes the clip in the gun, but he doesn't fire a second round. Not yet. "I don't want to hurt you, Ten."

  "Then why shoot at me?" I screech.

  "Weakened, you won't put up a fight when I drag you to the Land of the Harvest to meet with my boss."

  "I've already met your boss. His name is Levi."

  "I have never worked for Levi." He takes aim. "I work for Myriad. Always have, always will. I have family there, and I want the best for them. An eternity without Troika."