The words hit me like a slap. He slammed the door behind him.

I stood there, staring at the closed doors. I reached out and touched the bone handle.

You can fix this, I told myself. You can make this right. But I just stood there, frozen, Mal’s words ringing in my ears. I bit down hard on my lip to silence the sob that shook my chest. That’s good, I thought as the tears spilled over. That way the servants won’t hear. An ache had started between my ribs, a hard, bright shard of pain that lodged beneath my sternum, pressing tight against my heart.

I didn’t hear the Darkling move; I only knew when he was beside me. His long fingers brushed the hair back from my neck and rested on the collar. When he kissed my cheek, his lips were cold.

CHAPTER 19

EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, I tracked down David on the roof of the Little Palace, where construction had begun on his gigantic mirrored dishes. He’d set up a makeshift workspace in the shade of one of the domes, and it was already covered in bits of shiny detritus and discarded drawings. The barest breeze ruffled their edges. I recognized Nikolai’s scrawl in one of the margins.

“How’s it going?” I asked.

“Better,” he said, studying the slick surface of the nearest dish. “I think I’ve gotten the curvature right. We should be ready to try them out soon.”

“How soon?” We were still receiving conflicting reports of the Darkling’s location, but if he hadn’t finished creating his army, it wouldn’t be long.

“A couple of weeks,” David said.

“That long?”

“You can have it soon, or you can have it right,” he grumbled.

“David, I need to know—”

“I told you everything I know about Morozova.”

“Not about him,” I said. “Not exactly. If … if I wanted to remove the collar. How would I do that?”

“You can’t.”

“Not now. But after we’ve—”

“No,” David said, without looking at me. “It’s not like other amplifiers. It can’t just be taken off. You’d have to break it, violate its structure. The results would be catastrophic.”

“How catastrophic?”

“I can’t be certain,” he said. “But I’m pretty sure it would make the Fold look like a paper cut.”

“Oh,” I said softly. Then it would be the same with the fetter. Whatever I was becoming, there was no turning back. I’d hoped the visions were the result of the bite from the nichevo’ya, that the effects might somehow diminish as the wound slowly healed. But that didn’t seem to be happening. And even if it did, I would always be tied to the Darkling through the collar. Again, I wondered why he hadn’t chosen to try to kill the sea whip himself and bind us closer still.

David picked up a bottle of ink and began twirling it between his fingers. He looked miserable. Not just miserable, I thought. Guilty. He had forged this connection, placed this chain around my neck for eternity.