My heart plummets. What happened with Cami and me in the lab must have been a fluke—Ward must have learned from that, somehow figured out how to stop it from happening again. But that means …

“How are we supposed to free him now?”

The words don’t come from me. They come from Cami, staring through the glass, her face distraught.

Kael rolls his neck, his frustration clear. He considers for a moment before saying, “Distance from Manning should fray the tether between them. It’s not like he can be given new orders from here, so the command link between them should fade on its own.” He pauses. “Worst case, we can try again in a few days—maybe I’ll be able to override his protective ability then. But it’s more likely that he’ll snap out of it once enough time has passed.”

Another dark laugh from Ward.

I turn back to find him staring at me.

“Unfortunately for you, time isn’t in your favor.”

There are so many reasons why he could be taunting us with such a warning: because Vanik is already building his Speaker army, because we have untold questions that need answering. But I can see the gleam in his otherwise blank eyes—eyes that I now realize aren’t staring at my face.

No—he’s staring at my arm.

Right where he stabbed me with the syringe.

Kael notices, too, and he lunges forward to grip Ward’s shoulders, bunching the material of his jacket as he glares down at him and demands. “What’s that supposed to mean? What did you do to her?”

“Me?” There’s humor lacing Ward’s tone.

Kael’s grip tightens, his knuckles turning white. “Answer the damn question!”

Ward’s expression remains perfectly blank, perfectly calm in the face of Kael’s anger. “You’ll find out soon enough.” His mouth stretches into an emotionless smile as he looks at me and adds, “I daresay you’ve already started to feel the effects.”

I glance between Kael, Arryn, and Cami, confused. I was honest with them before—I feel no different from normal. Considering the day we’ve had, and the long night beforehand, I feel a lot better than I should. I’m not even tired, not even—

I gasp, whirling back to Ward.

I’m not tired.

I’m not exhausted.