I pause, the hunger echoing. “You mean the Bone Tree’s hunger?” He nods, and I tilt my head. “I’d love to tell you. But on the condition I get a painkiller or three.”

“There are no conditions,” the scholar snaps. “We will take your information, and your friends will receive theirs. So it has been deemed.”

I glance at Yorl, but from the way his green eyes slide around, I get the feeling he can’t interfere or assert himself. Not without risking his own position. Organizations are fickle like that. But thankfully, I’m a free agent.

I make a sweet smile. “Oh, sure. You can take all my information. Slice me up, take bits of me all you want, look at me under a lens. But my parts won’t tell you what my mouth can.”

“We don’t need your words,” the scholar insists, “to know you.”

“Yes, I’m certain you’re very good at sussing things out,” I agree placidly. “I saw your matronics, all your little machines. But that must be so much work. So much effort, so many long nights in your laboratories. So much brainwork, trying to analyze my brainwork. All my experiences, all my perceptions. I could just tell you and save you the bother.”

I’ve got him, and I know I’ve got him because he pauses on the brink of leaning in farther, like he’s pulling himself back from temptation.

The old me would have let them hurt me. The old me would have gladly thrown herself into the fire to achieve a means to an end.

But the new me has different ideas. The new me has people who care about her.

Twist the knife, Zera, salt the wound, make him want to wash it out. Save yourself.

being kind to yourself? The hunger laughs. a pathetic escape attempt.

“The first nonhuman Heartless in the world,” I murmur, looking down at myself. “Wow. That’s so amazing. Who knew?”

I look over to Yorl innocently, wide-eyed with my faux wondering. He can’t assert himself, but he can play along. He nods solemnly, an emotion he’s incredibly good at showing. Perfect, really. And it tips the scholar over the edge, the hooked needle in his hand retreating into his sleeve.

“Fine,” he assents calmly. “We administer pain relievers, then.”

“Will that work on her Heartless body?” Yorl asks, and I’m simultaneously flashing eyes at him to shut up and curious about it myself.

“We’ll use the formula intended for large game.” The scholar motions to the other silver robes on the wall, and they scatter out and back in, wheeling a tray with multicolored bottles on it. “It’s not as if overdosing will kill her.”