Karigan had no idea how Ty grieved on his way to Sacor City, but she knew it had not crippled him, had not slowed him down. He’d carried on and done his duty. She rubbed her face. When she was a Rider-in-training, Ty had mentored her, and now it seemed he was once again setting an example for her but across the expanse of time.

She would do her duty, too. It did not mean she did not grieve, but she would honor Raven by carrying on. Although His Majesty’s Messenger Service did not exist in this era, Raven had been a true Green Rider horse, and he’d understand. She reminded herself that if she was able to get home, she might help change outcomes so that another version of Raven might live a long, healthy life.

Yes, she thought, her resolve building. I am not going home just for myself, but for so many others.

With that, peace descended on her and, exhausted by so much emotional turmoil, she slept.

Only to be abruptly awakened sometime later by meaty hands grabbing her and yanking her off the sofa. She was dragged stumbling and confused out into the corridor by guards and Dr. Silk’s man, Mr. Howser. Dr. Silk himself awaited her there, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Today did not go quite as planned,” he said. “There were distractions.”

“Not my fault,” Karigan muttered.

“No, perhaps not. The emperor is mercurial of temperament. I am told he is currently overseeing the burial of that horse. So, while he is busy, I have decided we each live up to our ends of the bargain we made.”

Karigan shook herself fully awake. “You are taking me to see Cade?”

“Yes. Which means you will show me the workings of your magic.”

It also meant, Karigan knew, that they must be done with Cade, that they would execute him soon.

She was ushered through several corridors, and along the way, she asked, “Then what happens?”

Silk shrugged. “That is up to the emperor. Maybe he’ll lend you to the circus as part of the sideshow, or you’ll become part of the imperial breeding program.”

Karigan’s eyes widened at that. “Breeding . . . ?”

“If your magic is of any interest, the emperor may want to try to reproduce it.”

Oh, yes, she would show them her ability and much more, and there would be no circus side show, no . . . no breeding program. This empire was beyond revolting, beyond monstrous. She tried to devise a plan, but it all depended on where they were taking her. Even if she escaped with Cade, could they reach Lhean and the museum? And once they reached the museum, could they activate the moondial? She had no idea. And when she, Silk, and Howser stuffed themselves into a closetlike room that moved, her doubts grew. Silk called it a “lift,” but the sensation she felt fluttering in her stomach registered only that they went down.

When it stopped, and Howser opened the doors, they filed out into a corridor that was utilitarian, somber in its gray stone walls and gloomy lighting, in deep contrast to the corridors above. Was this a prison level? She had tried to memorize every turn they’d taken before entering the lift, and then carefully observed how Howser controlled the mechanisms. Her confidence was slipping by the moment.

They did not walk far before they came to a door with guards in the otherwise abandoned corridor.

“Mr. Starling is expecting me,” Silk told them.

The guards let them in, and the first thing Karigan saw was Cade sitting in a chair, his front covered in old blood, his face haggard. It took all her willpower not to run to him. Instead, she surveyed the room, which had the same utilitarian look as the corridor. She made note of where the lever for the overhead light was located. A stout, pig-eyed man stood nearby, watching her curiously. In contrast to the setting, he wore a red carnation in his lapel. This, she deduced, was Mr. Starling. There were no other guards in the room. The main threat was Howser.

“Karigan?” Cade stood unsteadily.

Karigan looked to make sure her going to him would cause no other threat to arise. She was acutely aware of the three men watching her and Cade, Silk absently adjusting the cuff of the glove that concealed his mechanical hand. She walked to Cade slowly, fighting the urge to run to him, not willing to give Silk the satisfaction of witnessing her desperate need to be with Cade. When she reached him, she halted, searching his eyes, desiring to throw her arms around him. Instead, she tentatively pressed her hand against his chest, reassured by its steady rise and fall and his warmth against her palm.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“I am now,” he said. “You?” He lightly stroked her cheek where the Eternal Guardian had struck her. It must have bruised. It did feel stiff and swollen.

“I’m fine.”

Silk cleared his throat. “You can see, Miss G’ladheon, that we’ve not abused Mr. Harlowe.”

She glowered. The dried blood on Cade’s front did not make him look unabused.

“It is your turn,” Silk continued, “to come good on our bargain.”

Cade held on to her. “What bargain? What’s he talking about?”

“It’s all right,” she said. Then she leaned forward as though to kiss him and whispered, “Trust me.”

No longer caring what Silk saw, she brushed her lips against Cade’s, hoping there would be time for more later. Either that, or there would be no later, but she refused to accept such an outcome. She pulled from his grasp, strode away, and stood before Silk. Howser remained by the door, unfortunately very near the lever that controlled the light. She gave Mr. Starling a sideways glance.