Rasmus opens his mouth, like he might mount an argument, but I can tell his heart’s not in it. He shrugs and stands against the wall. He keeps his gaze on me, but it’s different than usual. It’s the way one might watch a group of children playing a game. Like he’s not really expecting anything bad to happen, but intends to pay attention just in case.

As I look at the bones on the shelf—the vast array of paths that I need to study—I’m hit with a wave of exhaustion. But there’s no other way. I’ll need to read every single option if I hope to understand how to stop Latham.

I start toward the shelf, but something on a nearby table stops me in my tracks. I make a choked sound at the back of my throat. Behind me, Bram gasps.

Latham knows we’ve been here.

In the center of the table is the spell book he left in my room at Ivory Hall. The one made from my mother’s skin.

He must have retrieved it from Bram’s room and brought it here.

Bram’s hand closes around my wrist. “We should go. This isn’t safe.”

“What’s not safe?” Rasmus asks. “What do you need?” His eyes roam around the room, but he doesn’t seem particularly alarmed. Or especially capable of springing into action should the need arise.

Bram spins toward Jacey. “You’ve rendered him useless.”

“He’ll be fine. He’s still wearing his bone armor.”

“That protects him from Breakers. If he’s too incapacitated to guard us, it hardly matters what he’s wearing.”

Her eyes narrow. “We wouldn’t be here if not for me. I don’t remember hearing your brilliant plan.”

“My plan is to keep Saskia alive. Which means we need to leave. Now.”

“Fine by me,” Jacey says, her voice full of fire. “I was only trying to help.”

I rake my fingers through my hair. “Stop. Both of you. We’re not going anywhere.”

“But—” Bram starts.

“That book is a message. Latham is trying to scare us away, and I refuse to give him the satisfaction.”

“Saskia.” Tessa’s voice is full of warning. “You’ve seen yourself dying by a weapon in this room.”

“And you’ve reminded me that it’s only one potential path.”

She falls silent. She can’t very well argue with herself. Tension hangs in the room like a dense fog.

“I wish I had the luxury to run, but I don’t. If we leave now, Latham wins. He changes the past.”

I don’t say the rest of what I’m thinking—that I would willingly trade my safety to assure that Latham pays for what he’s done.