Kane flung Sophia behind him and in the same motion burst toward Poesy. His fists swarmed with etherea, and for a moment Poesy raised an eyebrow. Then she simply sneered, and Kane felt the crack of her hand against his jaw. He spun out and collided with the gazebo, and before he’d even hit the ground, she was in front of him, her fingers around his throat. His back bristled with splinters as she ground him up against the ruined post. Poesy’s painted face filled his vision.

“Such a crude way to welcome,” she said, “the person who is about to save your life.”

Kane tore at her sleeve. “Leave my sister alone,” he choked. “Please. I am begging you.”

Poesy clucked maternally. “Oh, no, I am afraid it’s too late for Sophia Montgomery. Perhaps if you had summoned me sooner we could have made a deal—her world for the ones my homunculus of an assistant stole—but it’s too late for that. Teasing these apart would be tedious, meticulous work, and I’m in no mood for tedium or meticulosity.”

Black dots burst in his vision. He was losing consciousness. The muscles in his neck popped as the grip tightened, and Poesy moved so close Kane could pick out the flecks of black that swam in her cobalt eyes.

“And what to do with you, Mr. Montgomery? I do admit, I am quite disappointed. A power like yours comes once in a generation; I had hoped together we could conquer this reality and bring forth the next. Something better. Something beyond. But what good is a power like ours if we’re too afraid to use it?”

“I’m not afraid of you,” Kane spat. He tossed his weight into a punch, which she caught by the wrist.

Poesy leaned in. “Not me, Mr. Montgomery. The world. It takes a certain bravado to confront, claim, and take control of the things around you. A bravado that you have always lacked. The very ability to manipulate the fabric of reality—of all realities—and you choose to throw a punch? You have devastatingly bad taste. We could never work together.”

Kane begged his arms to move, his feet to kick. He couldn’t. Didn’t. Nothing. He reached for his power but it wouldn’t come to him.

Poesy smiled. Her voice gave way to a rattling, insect drone as she whispered, “Feckless child, how do you intend to save the world if you’re too unimaginative to change it? Could it be that you have finally realized that yours is a world not worth saving?”

A fist collided with Poesy’s right cheek, driving her off, and Kane was being dragged away. The person dragging Kane was Elliot. The person who had landed the punch was Ursula.

“Ogress,” Poesy sneered, circling her.