Haddou insisted on another pot of mint tea and another half a loaf of bread before allowing Malou and Gavriel to leave. When Malou tried to get up, she found she needed help thanks to the aftereffects of the Almuzayan root tea, which meant the only way back to her flat in Ghislieri was once again on Gavriel’s back. Of course, it was great for their make-believe courtship, especially given how late they’d stayed out. It just wasn’t so great for her pride or dignity. Hopefully, she’d never have to drink that tea again.

Once they’d left Lussier Hall for the second time that day, passing the Gendarme standing guard in the same shadows Malou had hidden within not too long ago, she gave Gavriel’s shoulders as much of a squeeze as her tired muscles could manage. At least the Gendarme didn't worry her much anymore with Laure back.

“Wouldn’t cough up a single detail?” Malou asked, recalling what Haddou had said when she’d woken up. That weight she’d seen on his shoulders hadn’t eased, and she couldn’t get his distant smile out of her head. Had his meditation not gone well somehow? “You’re not going to say anything?”

“About what?” he asked, his tone deceptively light for such an obvious attempt to dodge her question. He adjusted his hold on her legs and grunted as if he were struggling. “Having to carry you like a child again? I don’t mind. Nice work out.”

“I’m sure,” she said equally as light. For all the grief he gave her about avoiding his questions, he shared the same habit. She’d usually let it pass—for a while, much like he would for her—but she could tell this wasn’t one of those times. “So you have nothing to say about how your first meditation went, not even now that we’re alone? Was it that bad? Are you alright?”

“Not sure there’s anything to say,” Gavriel responded. “It happened and now I’m carrying you back to Ghislieri. I wish I’d buttoned my coat properly because it’s fucking frigid out here. Do your hands work at all or are those as useless as your legs? Otherwise, yeah, I’m fine.”

Malou cleared her throat. “While I’m glad to hear that you’re fine, maybe you didn’t notice,” she said, nearly repeating his own words, “but you avoided answering me straight all the same. Usually, when you do that, you’re hiding something. No secrets, wasn’t it?”

Gavriel stopped walking and tipped his head back. Although she didn’t hear his sigh, she saw the long breath catch the light from the lampposts flanking the stone pathway. “Right, no secrets,” he grumbled, then glanced over his shoulder for a moment. “Quite cruel, using my best lines against me. In all honesty, I’m just not sure what that was, so I’m not sure how to talk about it.”

“Start from the beginning,” Malou said for the second time today. “Where did you imagine your door leading? What happened when you opened it?” She reached down to button as much of his jacket as she could manage. Her fingers weren't completely useless.

“From the beginning, right. I imagined the front door of Eleusis House. Do you remember it? Faded blue wood with the wrought-iron handle and the stained-glass transom window above. When Haddou said to picture a place I felt safe and loved, that’s just what came to mind first. Only place I’ve ever really considered home, I guess.”

“Same,” she said. That was what they called it—Eleusis House. How could she have forgotten? “Since it was the last place we lived together with Dad.”

“You, too?” He looked down and chuckled as her fingers struggled with the last button she could reach. “Bet when you opened the door, you didn’t step into darkness, though. More than just darkness, I couldn’t feel anything, hear anything, smell anything. Like I just didn’t exist. Like nothing existed at all. And I was just trapped like that for a really fucking long time.”

She gave his shoulders another squeeze and hoped it’d provide some measure of comfort to encourage him to keep talking. “No, was a different kind of nightmare for me. Was it like that the entire time?”

“No, but I almost wish it had stayed like that now. I heard a voice eventually.” His gaze turned upward again, and she caught herself wishing she could see his expression.

“Knew my name, introduced themself as Nila,” he continued, “and said they’d been waiting to meet me for a long time so they could soulbond with me and give me some great power. This wasn’t an ancestor of mine, I could tell. There wasn’t any game to play to teach me how to use magic. So I told them I didn’t want whatever great power they wanted to give me, and they didn’t particularly like that. I don’t entirely know what happened after that. I think they showed me what having this power would be like? And that’s the part that I can’t fully explain, other than that I know they took the power away as quickly as they gave it to me, That moment was enough, though. I don't know how, but I don’t feel the same as I felt before. Or maybe the world doesn’t feel the same to me anymore. Then again, maybe it was all just a hallucination.”

Malou wasn’t sure what to say. She knew so little about magic and meditating, so what could she even offer to measure his experience against? Then again, maybe what happened to him wasn’t that far from what happened to her. “Laure isn’t my ancestor, but she was there, too. That wasn’t a hallucination. I could feel her."

Not only had Malou felt her, but Laure had even been able to use magic somehow. When Malou held out her hand just enough to catch the surface of her palm under the amber light, she found no trace of the mottled scar she’d been left with after her own attempt to heal the burn from the marble. Laure had said Malou had done that to herself, and she wasn’t sure how she had.

“I don’t know Nila, though,” Gavriel said as they crossed into Ghislieri’s park entrance. “Not who they are nor what they are. I don’t even remember what that power felt like. I just know that I don’t have it now, or at least don't have access to it anymore, and I don’t know if I like how that feels. That last part is what I don’t like the most."

The power that Malou had felt when the seal broke had been rather intoxicating, so she thought she could understand what he felt a bit. Perhaps what had weighed on his shoulders was whether, if given another chance to gain access to that power, he should accept it.

She said the only thing she could offer him here. "Dad only told me about soulbonds once, and it was a story about someone who had become soulbound to an ancestor and lost their sense of self. I don't think that's how it works if it's not your ancestor, though. I don't think if I'd soulbonded with Laure that I'd have lost myself at all. Maybe you don't know Nila yet, but that doesn't mean you can't come to know them and then make a decision.”

Silence settled between them for a few long moments. Then Gavriel asked, "What’d she look like? Laure, I mean.”

“My mom,” Malou said without thinking. Then she immediately wished she hadn’t and, at the same time, knew she would’ve had to answer him anyway. “She had her own voice, but she looked like Mother. She said that’s how I imagined her. I’m sure she imagines herself looking different.”

“I wouldn’t mind looking like your mother,” Laure said, and Malou had to refrain from rolling her eyes. Her personal assistant’s personality hadn’t changed at all. “She’s quite beautiful.”

“And she warned that this Ediz is back? You only told me that one story about him that Lavrras told you. Do you know anything more about him?”

Although Malou wanted to talk more about Nila and the power they wanted to give Gavriel, she wanted to trust that he’d told her what was necessary. Or perhaps he’d share more at a later time when he had more to say about his experience. So the rest of the walk to her new flat, she told him the stories about Ediz the Destroyer that Haddou had used to lull her into meditation.

When magic was sealed away, knowledge about magic and even people like Ediz had been forgotten. That Haddou knew so much about him signaled she had resources outside of the university. Maybe Khalasaj Tower was one such source. Not only had Haddou mentioned that the Teir had been hidden there before, but she’d also said that there was some initiation process when teaching them how to meditate. Perhaps Khalasaj was someplace where Malou could learn even more about magic.

As Gavriel carried her down the hall, the lights awakened to a dull glow. He set Malou down at the door, and she used her silver to open it. One benefit of their fake courtship meant he could stay over without needing permission, and as she stepped inside, she was about to offer him the sofa when she spotted a familiar scowl.

“Zeynel,” Malou said, almost under her breath. She had expected more anger out of herself at seeing him again. After dismissing her. After ignoring her for days. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed him until this moment, and as much as she wanted to walk into his arms like she had so many times before, she couldn’t move.

“It’s late,” Zeynel said, standing from his seat on the sofa. “Where have you been?”

“That’s rich.” Gavriel chuckled from behind her as he shut the door, then he took off Malou’s coat for her, which she appreciated.

Haddou had mentioned it’d been hours, but Malou hadn’t bothered checking exactly how many. She retrieved the pocket watch Zeynel had given her, then paused.

“Suddenly where she’s been matters to you?” Gavriel continued, putting her coat in the closet next to his own. “After you sent her to Professor Brosch’s house knowing the Sea Legions were after the Teir?”

“Wow,” Laure said in her ear. “You told him everything, didn’t you?”

Malou leaned against her hallway wall. “We were learning how to use magic from Haddou,” she said. There was no use keeping it a secret from him when he must know enough about magic to have used the key to turn off the Teir and he must’ve known that she could use it in having given the key to her. She held out the pocket watch to him.

“Keep it,” Zeynel said, crossing the room to her much like he had when she’d returned after Brosch’s death. Quicker this time, and with concern more obvious on his face. He offered her his arm. “The pocket watch was always meant to be yours. I expected you earlier, so I was worried. Why do you look so exhausted? I wasn’t under the impression learning how to use magic was a tiring process with the way that Lavrras used it.”

She returned the watch to her pocket and took his arm, wishing she didn’t feel quite so heartened at his weak display of consideration for her. “Depends, I think. Not like we’re experienced.” She saw no reason to mention the Almuzayan root tea, and Gavriel’s breathy snort confirmed her instinct.

“But you’re alright?” Zeynel asked, helping her walk to the sofa.

When had he ever been so openly concerned for her? She wanted to believe it, but perhaps he knew she’d stolen the Teir and he was acting this way so she’d tell him where she’d hidden it. Maybe he would try to convince her to hand it over to the empire after winning back her confidence.

“Yeah,” Malou answered his question. “What about you? What about the Premier?”

He supported her as she sat and took the spot next to her. Zeynel must’ve started its false flames before they’d arrived, which made her wonder how long he’d waited watching its flickering light for her to return.

“Don’t worry about me. Mother…” Zeynel gave a short grunt, and he ran his fingers through his hair. He had a bit more grey in his bushy eyebrows than the last time she’d seen him, and he wore more of a beard than she could ever remember. “They haven’t let her leave her quarters, though they assure me she isn’t under arrest. She’s tough, so she’ll be fine. They won’t get a single worthwhile thing out of her. Waste of time and resources, if you ask me.”

Of course, it wasn’t a waste because of anything he’d done. The only reason the empire’s invasion had been a waste was because of her.

“What do they think she knows?” Malou asked. “Or, rather, does it matter to them if she doesn’t know what they want?”

“Probably not,” Gavriel said, taking a seat in the armchair closest to the fireplace.

“They didn’t find what they were looking for,” Zeynel said. His voice was low, raw with contempt. “They think she has hidden it. Or, at the very least, they think she knows where it is. It makes no difference to them that there is no evidence to support her guilt because there also is no evidence to support her innocence.”

“And you?” Malou asked. “They don’t think you know?”

“I’m sure they’d have me locked up if they knew where I was.” Zeynel found his etui on his chatelaine, cracking it open to pull out a cigarette from the case. “You know how to make fire yet?”

“You’ve been in hiding,” Gavriel said dryly.

Zeynel sat back. “Not really. I’m just never where they’re looking for me. Apparently, I know this campus better than they do.” With the cigarette between his fingers, he gestured to the bookcase receded into the wall to the right of her fireplace. He snapped the etui closed. “This was my room. There’s a secret elevator behind that bookcase that leads down to the tunnels underground. I attended under the last name of my mother’s partner. Leonore had the room across the hall. Light?”

“I’ve never tried to make fire,” Malou said, but that didn’t stop her from thinking of a way to conjure a flame. How could she make it without hurting herself?

“Lavrras said he just imagined it, but I figured he made it seem a lot easier than it probably was. Then again, he told me to just imagine the key working, and that seemed to work quite well. Maybe if you imagined it warming up?”

Malou could picture her father saying something like that with a charming smile on his face. He was good at answering questions without actually answering them. Zeynel’s suggestion couldn’t be too far off, though. Magic always warmed her so easily—perhaps too easily given how she’d burned herself—so maybe all she had to do was direct its warmth to the tip of his cigarette. Her mind went back to the way Laure had healed her hand, though, and how she hadn’t felt her use it at all.

“Don’t you have a lighter?” Gavriel asked.

“What do you think, boy?” Zeynel responded in kind.

“I’ll try,” Malou said, “but Gavriel has a lighter if you misplaced yours. Give it to me.” She gestured for Zeynel to hand over his cigarette.

When he did, she pressed it between her lips and cupped her hands around it to cut out the flickering of the false fire. What if she’d burned herself with magic because that was what she’d imagined? That meant all she had to do was imagine magic doing that to the end of the cigarette. Concentrating on the far edge of its white paper, she imagined the tip warming as though kissed by the open flame of a lighter until it smoldered orange and curled smoke around her hand. She took in a short draw, pulling that heat into it as she relaxed her focus, then offered it back to Zeynel.

“Good job,” Laure whispered, and Malou couldn’t help but release a small chuckle. “Maybe your meditation did teach you something.”

Maybe she didn’t need to feel any warmth, any tingle or prickle, for magic to work. Perhaps she could imagine another way for magic to feel that could be more useful to her in some way. There could even be a way to imagine feeling magic when others were using it, too.

“Do you know where it is though?” Malou asked, turning her attention to Zeynel again. “What they’re looking for, I mean.”

Gavriel met her gaze for a moment. More than likely, he probably didn’t think she should tell Zeynel that she’d taken the Teir, but maybe there was no need. Her father had trusted Zeynel completely, hadn’t he? Her father told him about magic and even taught him how to use it. Her father had told him about the Libertines and Gavriel’s role in it. Her father had told him about the promise he’d had Gavriel make to protect her. Her father had trusted him to give her the key at the right moment, had trusted him to wait until the Teir was in danger to give it to her.

“Maybe.” Zeynel laughed, full-bellied, but it sounded dark, heavy, and full of regret. She couldn’t tell if he was letting his walls down or putting them back up. “Maybe you do know far, far too much. Probably my fault, too.” After enjoying a bit more of his cigarette, he continued, “That doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you anything you want to know. And not because of some promise I made to Lavrras. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m not telling you because I want to protect you. Or at the very least offer you some semblance of a choice.”

“Still doesn’t feel like much of a choice at the end of the day,” she said, feeling more tired now than when she first awoke after meditating. She’d made her choice already, and she’d continue making that same choice because she was protecting more than just the Teir now.

“That’s probably because you think you have it all figured out. That’s your mother’s side of you, though. Notice where she is and where you are. Notice what she knows and what we know. You need to listen to your father’s side of you, and this is what he’d tell you. Do not trust Leonore. Do not trust Kåre. Do not trust the Libertines. Now, tell me about the meeting so that I can do my part from afar.”

Gavriel glanced at Malou again. She figured it was to check if she wanted to respond to Zeynel before he gave a rundown of the morning’s meeting, so she sat back to let him know she had nothing left to say. She mulled over Zeynel’s words as Gavriel told him about the planned assassination attempt on the family of the Crowned Consul at the Old Palace that the Libertines were planning to spoil. Not quite the military assault Commander Nunziata had cited as the reason the empire needed the Teir.

She wanted to say goodbye to Zeynel, not knowing when she’d see him next, but she couldn’t get herself to say the word. Instead, he showed her how to call the elevator, then he disappeared behind its doors and the bookshelf slid back into place.