No such luck. With a single flex of his arm, Kraz brought the whole bookshelf crashing to the ground. Bottles and vials smashed against the floor. I rolled to avoid being crushed, slicing my cheek on a shard of glass. A cry leaped from my lips. My cracked ribs seared.

I wasn’t on my feet fast enough. My injuries slowed me down. There were no spirits in here; nothing I could use to repel him. Kraz picked me up by my gilet and smashed me into the wall. I almost blacked out. My ribs were tearing from my chest. Kraz gripped my hair in his hand, pulled my head back, and inhaled—deeply, like he was trying to breathe more than air. I realized what was happening when blood filled my eyes. I kicked and clawed and twisted, gasping for the æther. It was already slipping out of reach.

Kraz was famished. He was going to snuff out my glow.

My right arm was pinned, but my left was free. In the grip of adrenaline, I did what my father had always taught me to do: stabbed Kraz in the eye with my finger. As soon as he let go of my hair, I pulled out the vial in my pocket. Red flower.

Kraz clamped his hand across my throat, his teeth bared. If I tried to attack his mind, my body would be damaged beyond repair. I had no choice. I smashed the vial against his face.

The smell was atrocious. Rot. Sweet, burning rot. Kraz let out an inhuman scream. The pollen had gone straight into his eyes. They were blackened and dripping, and his face was turning an ugly, mottled gray. “No,” he said. “No, you—not—”

His next words were in Gloss. My vision lurched. Was this an allergic reaction? Bile jerked into my throat. I groped in my backpack, took out the revolver, and raised it to his head. Kraz fell to his knees.

Kill him.

My palms were slick. Even after what I’d had done to the Underguard on the train, the very crime that had landed me here, I had no idea if I could do this. If I could take another life. But then Kraz pulled his hands away from his face, and I knew he was beyond saving. I didn’t even flinch.

I pulled the trigger.

24 The Dream

24

The Dream

I ran over the roofs, past the old church, and down the long road toward Magdalen. As I reached the residence an arm swung out from a window and snached me inside.

Warden. He’d waited for me. Without a word, he pulled me through a door. Back toward the east courtyard. Into the empty passages. Through the cloisters, up the steps. I didn’t dare speak. As soon as we were in the tower, I slid to the floor by the fireplace. My fingers left black pollen on the rug. It looked like soot.