He swore, loudly. “You see an animal or something?” he snapped at the driver, as he rubbed at the bruise on his arm. “We’re not to Ace yet, get going again.”

But the car wasn’t moving.

Rory looked up and over at Gwen—

Who had a small box in hand, just the right size for a ring, and glittering in its center was the Tempest Ring. “I’m sorry, Rory.”

She snapped it shut, and Rory felt the connection to the ring’s wind magic disappear.

“No!”

But the car’s rear door was opening next to Rory. Someone grabbed him by the back of the shirt and yanked him from the car.

“Let me go! Gwen!” Rory fought, but whoever had him was a lot bigger than he was. His arms were jerked behind him, and a moment later, cuffs snapped, the bite of lead on his wrists.

“Shut up,” said the man who had him. Hard metal jammed into his back.

A gun. They had guns.

The car Arthur had stolen was parked the wrong way, facing theirs. Gwen had gotten out of their car, coming around the front as collected and elegant as if she were walking into a ball. She stood in the beam of the headlights as a white man stepped across from her.

But Gwen lifted her finger. “No closer, if you please, Mr. Becker,” she said calmly. “My blood is my own.”

No. Oh, no—

“I trust you didn’t come to try tricks,” said Gwen, “because I assure you that despite appearances, I am neither alone nor helpless. My driver is loyal to me and armed, and that is just where my defenses start.”

Becker held up his hands, looking amused. “No tricks. Just business. It’s lovely to finally meet you, Mrs. Taylor.”

“Gwen,” Rory said desperately. “Gwen, no.”

Gwen tilted her head. “Baron Zeppler received my telegram?”

“He was intrigued,” said Becker. “He’s willing to honor the bargain if you’ve delivered your part.”

“I have.” Gwen held up the ring box. “There’s the psychometric. Here’s his relic. It controls the wind, so don’t open that box unless you’ve got him locked down in lead.” She nodded at Rory. “All the secrets to working the siphon are in his mind.”

Rory’s chest was burning. “How could you?” he whispered. “I trusted you.”

Gwen didn’t look at him. “Does the baron give his word in exchange?”

“He does,” said Becker. “You and your husband are safe. He will never go after the two of you again.”

“Then we have a deal,” said Gwen, and handed Becker the ring box.

Rory’s heart plummeted. “Gwen.”

“I’ll just say goodbye, shall I?” she said to Becker, with a false cheeriness, and then finally walked back to Rory.

“I am sorry about this,” she said as she approached. “I promise this was our plan of last resort.”