“Meaning?” asked Enrique.

“Meaning … we will have some help,” said Séverin.

“From who?” said Enrique.

Séverin said quietly, “You can come out now.”

A figure stepped into their line of sight, Zofia recognized the person immediately: long, red hair, a talon ring on the pinky. Eva Yefremovna.

When Zofia had seen the blood Forging artist in the past, Eva had not been expressive. Her mouth was usually in a flat line, which suggested anger. And she had not been kind to Laila, but there was a reason for that unkindness. Zofia remembered Laila pleading with her to help them in the Sleeping Palace, promising Eva that she no longer had to follow Ruslan’s bidding, that they would be able to protect her and her father, whose life Ruslan threatened. Eva’s gaze darted to Séverin’s. Her eyes were wide, which led Zofia to conclude that she was worried.

“I … I’m here to help,” said Eva.

“I’ve seen what your help looks like,” shot back Enrique. His hand flew to his ear.

“Can we really trust her?” asked Hypnos.

Eva opened her mouth to speak, but it was Laila who answered.

“Yes,” she said.

“After what she did?” said Enrique.

“You cannot corner a wild animal and scold it for snapping at you,” said Laila. Her voice was even and unwavering. Zofia could not tell if she was angry. “I know what I read in Eva’s objects.”

Eva’s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly. That meant she was shocked by Laila’s response. Zofia was not shocked. Laila was the kindest person she knew.

“All I want is a new start,” said Eva. “I want … I want to be free.” Eva raised her chin, looking them each in the eye. “I can make sure Ruslan is temporarily paralyzed and cannot leave the boat.”

“And in return,” said Séverin, his gaze sweeping over them, “I have promised Eva living quarters in L’Eden, future protection both for herself and her father from the Order of Babel—”

Hypnos grumbled. “Yes, fine.”

“And potential employment,” said Séverin.

Laila stiffened a little. Zofia noticed that it was Laila he looked to last. It was a familiar pattern. In L’Eden, whenever Séverin made plans, he always looked at Laila. To see him do it again made Zofia think of all their former patterns. It was like physics, the study of working mechanisms and the interplay of light. Laila was a fulcrum, the point around which all things in their group seemed to pivot. Séverin was mass, the weight that changed their direction. Enrique gave them depth. Zofia hoped she offered light. She was not sure what Hypnos contributed to the group, but she could not imagine it without him. Perhaps that made him perspective.

“Then it’s settled,” said Séverin.

Zofia looked up. She had not been listening.

“We must work quickly,” said Eva, looking at the lagoon. “He’s coming.”

ZOFIA AND ENRIQUE huddled together in one of the two gondolas Eva had rented and carefully positioned in the lagoon. Hypnos was waiting for them on the shore, to buy time for them before anyone came to investigate the inevitable explosion. The boat rocked slowly in the water. A small telescopic device that had once been part of Laila’s bodice now poked out from the top of the gondola. Through it, Zofia could see Ruslan’s gondola about six meters away. Séverin stood on a paddleboat, slowly pushing his way toward the patriarch of the Fallen House. Once Eva made the signal, she would detonate the explosives.