When he looked up at her again, he’d composed himself. “Okay, Goddess. We’ll bring back both things. Can we put the head into the Coffin? Make it easier to carry?”

He was joking. She knew he was joking. And he knew she knew. But it was still the most dangerous thing he’d ever uttered in her presence.

“Mannus, I’ll know if you, if any of you, open that Coffin. You can’t imagine the punishments that will define the rest of your life if you allow such a thing to happen.”

“I understand. I’m sorry.”

She allowed her anger to show, allowed her face to flush, allowed her eyes to rage. She could’ve hidden it with the Flaring discipline, with a quick recitation of the digits, but she wanted it to be seen.

“I can’t say it too many times. There is pain and suffering that you can’t begin to fathom, Mannus. The Coffin is not to be opened. If it is, there’s not one spot on earth in which you could find a hiding spot. Is that clear?”

She’d shaken him. A rarity. He nodded and bowed his head low.

“Good. We’ve gone over the plan. All the people are in place. Mikhail will not be in the picture today, nowhere near Nicholas. You have the codes, the weapons, the passwords, the muscle. Is there anything we’ve left out or not considered?”

He hesitated, still shaken.

“Speak freely, Mannus.”

“It’s all there, Goddess Romanov. We’ve been through every single detail a thousand times. It will go exactly according to plan. I swear it.”

Things rarely did, but she thought that this time it just might. The Evolution had never brought her so much certainty and comfort. And it was the Evolution that she served.

“Well, then that’s that,” she said. “You can go.”

He left quietly, the mission begun. In a few hours, she’d have two very precious gifts that would change the world forever. Two simple things, really. In fact, the head would probably be the hardest part.

She released her mind into the Flaring before the impatience could creep its way in. She closed her eyes.

“Go back into your room,” Skinny said, very firmly. They stood outside the door to where they’d been earlier, lying in beds like a cruise vacation on Old Man Frypan’s rickety homemade yacht. “Orange will come in and lock you back up. For safety.”

“Now wait a damn minute,” Sadina almost shouted. “I thought we were all on the same team now? Something like that? Prove it by not chaining us up.”

“Please,” Trish added.