Their eyes met, and for a moment, Arthur was years away, to the day in Germany when he’d first seen magic. The day Arthur had found Ellis—one of his own men—surrounded by enemy soldiers and rushed in to help just as Ellis had vanished into invisibility. Arthur had been taken prisoner in his place, and he still bore the scars Hyde had carved into his chest.

But Ellis could have left him to die. Instead, he’d come back for Arthur.

Arthur swallowed and moved farther into the room. As he took in the scene, his skin broke out in prickles.

The lounge was full of mismatched furniture, the velvet worn bare in places. There were glass doors to a tiny smoking balcony at the far end, standing wide open to let in the night breeze.

Rory and Gwen were on the green rug on the floor, across from each other. Rory had taken off the ruffled collar and black skullcap, and was dressed now in only the loose white shirt and trousers with his blond curls uncovered and his eyes still ringed by kohl. Gwen still had on her red party dress and long black gloves, but now she also wore her amulet and Rory his ring.

Between them, on the floor, was the strangest clock Arthur had ever seen. Almost like a miniature castle, about two feet tall, bright gold filigreed sides and turrets at the top. The clock face was circular, with multiple dials laid on top of each other like gears on the back of a watch. The colors were beautiful, turquoise blue, tropical green, and black onyx inlaid with concentric symbols in gold.

Rory had his hands on the clock, his eyes closed and his lips moving. Whatever he was saying, it was too quiet for Arthur to pick up. Gwen’s eyes were open but unfocused, her wide pupils reflective black as she stared at the siphon clock like she was drinking in its secrets.

Jade moved quietly into the room behind Arthur and Ellis, and took a seat on a chaise. Zhang sat at her side, the pair of them watching Gwen and Rory intently.

But Arthur stayed on his feet. “I don’t think this is safe,” he whispered to Ellis. “The seller, Lord Blanshard, said he’d been forced to allow us to steal the siphon. Who forced him? With what? What if we’re playing right into some kind of trap?”

Ellis made a face, but said, “Then it’s even more important he scries it now.”

“Why?” Arthur demanded. “If Rory knows its secrets—”

“Because you want to put that pomander out of commission, don’t you?” said Ellis. “But what if, instead of just hiding it again, we could destroy it? Keep all the non-magic folks safe?”

Arthur hesitated. “That would be my preference,” he admitted. “But why would you care about that?”