I pick a random manor and sneak into its kitchen, gathering a few supplies and stuffing them into a sack. No one is around. No one bothers me. It’s so much easier to get things done in a city in crisis. The servants are too panicked to remember to start on breakfast, and the nobles are too panicked to order them.
Then I find an entrance to the catacombs tucked away in an alley. I push open the door and peer down the dark staircase.
I unwrap my bloodied hand. I wince as I squeeze a few drops out onto the steps.
A moment later, the vide slides up the staircase. It swallows the blood instantly, and my hand tingles. I will it to go into the catacombs and find the person I need.
It doesn’t move. It just sits there, like it’s waiting.
“Oh,” I realize after a moment. “Is that not enough blood to persuade you?”
It’s silent. But the silence feels somehow pointed.
“So you’re greedy,” I say. “Fantastic.”
I pull a knife out of my bag—one of the most important supplies, of course. Without giving myself time to dwell on the fact that I probably don’t have much blood to lose, I slice my leg and feed the vide even more.
It still doesn’t move.
“What’s wrong with you?” I say.
It disappears back into the dark.
“Wait—” I say.
I slam the door. I go back to the mouth of the alley and look around the street, highly annoyed. This is exactly why I don’t want the vide to be the only thing with the power to save Occhia.
Against my will, my eyes are drawn to the fountain at end of the street. I feel like I can’t take two steps in this city without seeing a token or statue of Verene. It would be a waste of my time to run around Iris, destroying every single one. But for a moment, I’m sorely tempted.
Then I realize that there’s someone standing in the fountain. He’s bent over, digging around in the water. There’s a handkerchief over his face, but he’s not going to hide from me.
That’s why the vide couldn’t bring me the person I was looking for. Because he’s out here.
The only thing Verene cares about that I haven’t yet destroyed.
I sneak around and approach the fountain from behind. For a moment, I’m distracted, trying to figure out what Theo is doing. There’s a long hose sitting coiled outside the fountain, and he’s hooking it up to something underneath the water.
Oh. He’s trying to fight the cathedral fire. How adorable.
I reach into my bag of supplies and pull out the second-most important thing—a heavy iron pan. I climb onto the edge of the fountain and wait, poised. When he straightens up to admire his handiwork, I strike.
The thud is very alarming. The pan vibrates in my hand, and he collapses into the water with a loud splash. I look around to make sure there were no bystanders. Someone’s going to come by to refill their firefighting buckets any second. I have to move him.
I have no idea how I manage to drag him out of the fountain. I’m gritting my teeth and sweating as I pull him into the nearest alley. We leave a conspicuous trail of water behind. I prop him up against the wall as best I can, then find a large vase of roses in a nearby window and put it in front of us, which somewhat hides us from view.
Theo shifts and wrinkles his nose. He’s starting to wake up and, undoubtedly, feel the pain. I pull out the third-most important thing in my bag—heavy twine. I tie his hands.
He squints at me in the dim light. “Vee? I told you to stay in the gardens.”
“Oh, did you?” I say.
The realization hits him all at once. He goes very still. Slowly, he looks down at the bindings around his wrists.
I stand up. I always appreciate the opportunity to have a height advantage.
“I took your sister,” I say.
He gives me a long look of disdain. “No, you didn’t.”
“She’s in the prison at the bottom of the catacombs,” I say. “I captured her from the gardens and sent her there. With the vide.”
I show him my bloodied hand.
“Right,” he says skeptically. “So if you’re capable of doing that, why are you talking to me? Why don’t you just—”
“Oh, I wanted to discuss your map,” I say. “And also the journal you keep in the back of your wardrobe.”
His face turns stony. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I lean against the wall opposite him. “Please, allow me to clarify. I’m talking about the map of the catacombs and the eight cities. I’m talking about the journal where your maman wrote down every detail of your childhood and discussed at length how disappointed she was to have you as her heirs. Would you like me to describe it page by page?”
He doesn’t. That’s very obvious.
“How angry would Verene be if she found out you were hiding all this?” I say.
He remains quiet, but there’s a muscle twitching in his perfectly chiseled jaw.
“Your sister’s entire rule is built on erasing every trace of your maman.” I reach into my pocket and pull out the last crucial item I stole—a chocolate that was sitting in a dish on the kitchen counter. I unwrap it slowly. “And yet, you insist on holding on to her things and making secret maps. What a betrayal of dear Vee’s trust.”
“It’s not—” He fumes. “Don’t call her that. And it’s not a betrayal.”
“Oh, do you not know what the word betrayal means?” I say through my chocolate. It means—”
“I know what it means,” he says. “It’s not a betrayal. It’s just information. Do you even understand how fragile our cities are? Things can change so quickly, and information is the difference between life and death. We can’t just destroy it all because it doesn’t fit with our ideals. You can’t possibly imagine what it was like when…” He trails off.
“When what?” I
