“Look at the flowers, Phoenix. They’re almost like newborn stars, don’t you think?” asked Laila softly.

Zofia could not read her friend’s expression, but she was familiar with this pattern. Hela used to do something similar—drawing her out of the tangle of her thoughts with an illogical statement she would be forced to refute. It was done, Zofia understood, to comfort her. But Zofia did not want comfort. She wanted a plan not just for herself, but for all of them. What would happen to them? All those unknowns cropped up like shadows in her path. The uncomfortable brightness of the temple sanctum made no difference.

“Time to witness my glorious apotheosis!” said Ruslan. “Shall we?”

Zofia looked up, catching Enrique’s gaze. His mouth was a flat line.

“Oh, do tell me,” said Ruslan, pleading. “I love knowing all the useless historical bits and bobs of things—”

The dagger pointed at Enrique’s heart dug in a little, and he gasped. “Let us go.”

“That’s it? No spouting of information?” asked Ruslan. The brightness of the temple reflected off his golden face. “Perhaps I should loosen your tongue—”

“No!” cried out Enrique. “Did you … did you know the word ‘ziggurat’ comes from the Akkadian tongue? Zaqaru, I believe … ‘to build high.’ As for sacrifice, I’m not certain whether—”

Ruslan burst into laughter. “I should reward you for amusing me! Should I kill you now so you don’t have to watch everyone die? Oh, but I so dearly wanted to sacrifice Laila first—”

“No,” said Zofia.

The word ripped out of her so fast that it took a moment for her to realize that she was the one who had spoken.

Ruslan’s golden face turned to her. Zofia could feel Laila stiffen beside her. Zofia expected the dagger to dig a little deeper on her neck, but instead, Ruslan just flicked his wrist.

Zofia knew that gesture. Classmates and professors and people in the city used to do that around her all the time.

It meant one thing: Zofia was not worth notice.

“The mute speaks!” Ruslan’s gold mouth curved, and he turned sharply. “As if you have any power to change things.”

Heat flared on Zofia’s face. Ruslan was wrong, and yet … all her inventions lay on the other side of the lake. Zofia had little on her person except for her necklace, three matches, and her Forged sleeve. None of it would help Laila. None of it would make a difference.

Beside Ruslan, Enrique’s eyes had narrowed. Séverin had set his jaw and right behind her, Hypnos was breathing hard.

“Come, Monsieur Montagnet-Alarie,” said Ruslan, snapping his fingers. “It is time to give me that which I am owed.”

Ruslan stepped onto the shining ziggurat. Zofia watched as Séverin took a deep breath. He looked up, at the giant automatons, and then at Hypnos and her … before his eyes rested on Laila. Finally, he stepped onto the temple. Enrique followed.

“Phoenix—” Laila whispered under her breath.