I claw at his hands, grab at his face as he hauls me across the floor.

Nikola is on him within seconds, and sends him hurtling toward the wall. I fall to my knees and then my hands, sucking in air.

“Touch her again and I’ll have you shunned from your own court,” Nikola says quietly.

Tibor spits, the edge of his mask askew, which only makes him appear more deranged. “It won’t matter. Don’t you see? She has killed us all!” And then he begins to chuckle, the sound more than slightly manic.

“What do you want from me?” I rasp.

“Audra,” Nikola says, blocking me from view of Tibor, “we want what you knew. What you forgot. The thing you are protecting . . . it is a weapon. One we need.”

“Sorry. I can’t help you.”

“But you can. And you must,” Nikola says, getting down in front of me.

“I don’t think you understand. It’s gone. Whatever it was, I meant for it to disappear with me and it did!”

He shakes his head. “The Audra I knew was fanatical. A zealot.”

“I think you have me confused with my mother.”

“Oh, no. You would never have done what you did had you not found something of great interest to the Historian.”

“Which means it needs to stay buried!”

“No. Which makes it of greater interest to us.” He leans closer. “Had you stayed dead, your secret would have died with you. But now that the Scions know you are alive, all that has changed.”

“Everything’s changed,” Tibor echoes, leaning against the wall. His eyes gleam. “Perhaps they will kill us all tonight!”

“I can’t help you,” I say, pushing back onto a knee.

Nikola straightens, paces several steps away.

“How is your new sibling—the commoner?” he says.

In an instant every misgiving I had about tonight turns to cold, clammy fear. I follow his gaze to the bank of screens as they zoom in and then coalesce into a single image: Luka, searching the crowd in the cavern, no doubt for me.

“They never have quite the same . . . rapture as the Progeny at court.”

How long have they known? Is it possible that they know what Luka is, or has been? Sweat rolls down the inside of my kimono.

“He’s not a part of this!”

“Why don’t you hear us out?” Nikola says. This time I get up and sit when he gestures toward the chair.

“You came for protection. For you and your sibling. We don’t care that he’s common. Do what you like. But safety comes at a price. Recover what you buried and give it to us. Do that, and we will protect you from any ramification the Historian may visit on you. The entire court will. You will be its queen.”