Wait, his thoughts screamed. This isn’t the time. Wait until-
A burst of light and noise erupted from the well, exploding across the ravaged sitting room like a thunderclap. Droplets of water sprayed up along with it.
Madis tumbled back down on his ass. He clutched his tiny, leatherbound book, not bothering to brush the silver hair from his eyes. “Well,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose. “I’d forgotten how much of a brat you could be.”
“Madis,” Rickard whispered. “Why did you hide it? You lied- to me? To the rest of the Bookbinders?”
“Not now, Rickard,” Madis hissed, still focused on the statue. He rolled back to his feet with a snarl. “Contained here, your powers will only stagnate,” he said, glaring at Alexandria’s heart. “You know this as well as I. And while it remains contained, restricted, the world outside suffers under the heel of those who hoard your scraps.”
He pulled the book closer, thrusting his other toward the statue. His fingers tensed. Tendrils of blue started to rise from the well, coursing toward his hand—and then the tendrils became rivulets. Rivers. “If you won’t cooperate, I’ll take it, by virtue of our shared blood. You’re cornered. Don’t bother-”
“By our shared blood?”
The temperature in the room plummeted. Daniel shivered, his shoulders hiking higher. The few remaining candles in the sitting room died, fading out just as quickly as if they’d been snuffed. The light from the well flared to fill the sudden darkness.
Alexandria. She stood on the far side of the statue, as though she’d been there from the start. Her skin glowed, wiping away any details of her form, but her emerald-and-sapphire eyes burned with anger.
Her bare feet slapped against the floor as slowly, deliberately, she started to walk.
Madis twisted to face her, his eyes lighting up. “You show yourself,” he said, glee in his voice. His fist tightened—and the flow of water from her well continued. “Good. Now, together, we might-”
“His blood is on your hands,” she hissed. Mahogany hair swished behind her as she stalked closer. Fog rolled from the well, thicker and thicker in the growing frigidity. “You dare talk to me about shared blood? About suffering? What of the suffering you wrought, by showing the world what could be taken through death?”
Madis froze. For the first time since this began, he drew back half a step. The river of water coiling around his hand slowed. “W-Well. I do not relish what happened to your maker, but that is why we must-”
“His blood flows through every droplet of ink in your imitation,” Alexandria spat. Her hand slapped down onto his book before he could yank it away, her palm flat against the bare page. “If that is our shared blood, then I’ll take it back here and now.”
Her fingers tightened, her fingernails digging gouges into the page.
Red-black liquid dripped down the sides of the book. It soaked through the paper in bloody splotches—then pulled free, forming in droplets that rolled down the book and up Alexandria’s arm. She lifted her chin, a furious light in her eyes.
Madis stumbled, trying to pull away, but she held him fast. He shook like a leaf, but clung to his book, as though it was the last thing holding him upright. The stream of water pouring out of her well stopped, then fell free, splashing down to the ground. “N-No,” Madis mumbled. “This can’t- I won’t let you-”
“You think I’m cornered?” Alexandria said with a derisive snort. “Look around, murderer. I have you right where I want you.”
Daniel watched, aghast, as Madis started going pale. The shield around them flickered, then failed.
“Go,” Daniel heard someone whisper.
He’d already leapt forward, every last scrap of his focus centered on the reeling, staggering Madis.
Ice. He grabbed for the puddles of water that covered the ground around Madis’s feet, drawing them up, up. Spears shot from their surfaces, angled in toward the Bookbinder leader.
Madis lurched away, batting his free hand at Alexandria, ripping his book from her grasp. She glowed more furiously than ever, spectral dreamers spiraling around her—but somehow, Daniel knew that she was smiling.
“We need to go!” Rickard cried, thrusting a hand down. Daniel’s icicle spears shattered before they could impale him and Madis. He grabbed hold of his superior, dragging Madis away. The Edge roiled a few steps beyond, watching silently.
Daniel cursed, stomping his foot. The stone of the well curled outward, reaching for Madis with vine-like tendrils.
“Enough!” Rickard swung his hand across, yanking Madis another few steps. “Madis! Pull yourself together!”
Indira stood a few steps away, one hand half-raised—but she made no attempt to help either of the Bookbinders. His Librarian pendant dangled from her other hand. Her gaze lingered on Daniel, then flicked to the glowing form of Alexandria.
Madis shook his head, grabbing at it with his free hand. He still clutched his book to his chest with the other. Bloody ink coated the sides of it, running down the pages. “I...I have to-”
“Darin!” Rickard cried, lifting his eyes. “Darin, get us out of here! End the dream, before we’re-”
“No!” The cry came from Indira, Daniel knew, but he didn’t bother looking. “Not yet! I won’t- You mustn’t-”
He surged toward Madis and Rickard, shambling forward just as quickly as his legs would carry him. More. Faster. The carpet grabbed at their legs. The fiercely-glowing light coalesced into chains that wrapped around them, pinning them down, until-
With a final rush of air, the pair disappeared. The chains crumpled to the ground, shattering to glowing embers that faded out entirely.
Daniel stared, panting for breath. “N-No,” he whispered, and looked to the still-glowing figure waiting a few steps away. “I...I have to go after them. Alex. They know...so much. Too much. L-Let me out, so I can-”
A weight slammed into Daniel’s back. He hit the ground hard, what little air he’d found leaving his lungs in an agony-tinged rush.
Someone grabbed hold of his head, grinding his face into the ground. “Alexandria!”
It was Indira, he realized, twisting
