He held up his hand, and another Obscurist moved forward to put a wooden box in his palm. When Gregory opened it, Jess saw it held one of the golden collars. He felt Morgan’s bone-deep shiver of revulsion and took in a slow breath. “You don’t have to,” he told her. “Just tell me the word.”

“No,” she whispered. “It won’t do any good, Jess. I don’t want any of you hurt.”

Morgan stood up, closed her eyes, and stayed very still as Gregory clasped the collar around her neck and the symbols on the golden surface shimmered and shifted, and the latch just . . . disappeared.

Morgan sank down again beside him as if all the strength had drained out of her, and he put his arm around her waist. “Easy,” he whispered to her. “I’m right here.”

He turned his head and was suddenly, intensely aware that she was here, next to him, real. Being separated for months hadn’t dulled the impact of her presence on him, or—he thought—of his on her. A burning wave of hot and cold swept over him, and he thought, I can’t let them have her. I can’t. It had been different before, but here, seeing the mute, horrible misery in her eyes and the defeat . . . He understood how much she hated this place, rich and splendid as it seemed to be. He didn’t altogether understand why, but there was no denying it.

Gregory casually poured himself another cup of tea from the pot, sipped, and made a face. “Gone cold,” he said. “Too bad. You know, Morgan, you’d do well to be cautious. Keria Morning is the most powerful woman in the world.”

“I don’t care who she is,” Jess said. “Morgan is coming with us when we leave this place. And we will be leaving.”

Gregory laughed so hard, he slopped tea from the side of his cup. “You, boy, are one to watch. I might watch you end very badly, but at least it will be a good show.” He put the cup aside. “Come on. I’ll show you to your quarters. The good news is that there is plenty of space here, so you each get your own room.”

“What’s the bad news?”

“I wish I could even begin to guess the extent of it.” Gregory sounded dry and uninterested, but Jess couldn’t imagine that the man wasn’t some kind of important personage within the Iron Tower. He did notice that as they stood up, Morgan kept tight hold of Jess’s hand, and moved quickly away from Gregory as soon as the chance presented itself. She doesn’t like him. That’s telling.

“I hope Glain will be all right,” Khalila said, as she helped Thomas up.

“She’s in good hands,” Wolfe said, turning in a storm of black robes to stride back to them. “The Tower gets the best of everything the Library has to offer.”

“Except freedom,” Morgan said. He turned to look at her, and she dropped her gaze.