Her hand wiggles out from beneath her cloak and clasps mine. “Does it hurt very much?” I ask.

Her voice is a dreamy wheeze. “It did, but not anymore. Now I can’t feel anything.” Her grip is weak. Her hand slips away. “I think I’ll be all right. Just need a little nap.”

“No! Stay awake, Maura. Where’s Tess?” I glance around wildly. “She’ll—together, we can—”

“Gone when I woke up.” Maura’s fingers clutch at my black skirt. “I—was wrong. About Inez.”

I smile through my tears. “You saved my life, silly. Don’t worry about that.”

“You were wrong, too.” She’s as stubborn as ever. “About Elena. She’s good. Makes me want to be—better.”

“You’re already the best.” I capture her hand again. “If Merriweather gets his triumvirate government, Elena won’t just lead the Sisterhood. She’ll help govern all of New England.”

Her breath rattles. “She’ll like that.”

Maura’s blue eyes flutter closed, and I grab her hand tighter. Her pain is fading as her body shuts down. “I love you!”

I lean over her. Her voice is threadbare; I feel the words against my cheek more than I hear them. “Love you too, Cate.”

My tears fall onto her chest. “Don’t die. Please don’t die.”

But she can’t hear me.

My little sister—who used to toddle after me, stuffing my toys into her mouth; who used to hide romance novels under her floorboards; who had the most beautiful laugh in the world—is dead, and I won’t ever laugh with her again.

• • •

For a while I just sit there with her. I’m not certain how long. The clouds move over the moon. My arm throbs, and the back of my head aches, but it’s nothing compared to the hurt in my chest. I don’t know why I’m trying to keep the tears back. There’s no one here to see me. Eventually I stop fighting them. Racking sobs trail into quiet tears that wend a stinging path over my raw cheeks.

Eventually, something shifts above me, sending dust and bits of rubble raining down. I look up at the part of the cathedral spire that’s still wedged precariously against the bell tower. I suppose the roof could fall in at any moment, but I cannot bear the idea of leaving Maura alone on this cold rooftop.

I was supposed to die, not her. That’s what Tess’s vision foretold.

Except—it’s impossible to change the future, isn’t it?

What did Tess really see in her vision?

I’ve spared little thought for her, but now I wonder where she went, and why. Did she think she’d accomplished Inez’s task when she saw me lying amid the rubble? If she’s herself again, free of Inez’s compulsion, she must be racked with guilt. Did she think Maura and I were both dead? How else could she have left us? If Tess hadn’t gone, perhaps—

I stop that thought before it starts. Maura’s injuries were too grave. And if Tess were here, likely she would still be trying to murder me.

Inez.

Inez is the one responsible for this, not Tess.

I let go of Maura’s hand, which has grown cold. Her red curls have fallen out of their perfect pompadour. I tuck one behind her small seashell ear. She’s wearing the pearl earrings she stole from me weeks ago. I like the thought that something of mine will stay with her. When I bring my hand to my mouth, I find a trace of her sweet citrusy scent, from the lemon verbena she always dabs at her throat and wrists.

I struggle to my feet, head spinning, and that’s when I see the red blazing on the horizon. The fire—fires?—are burning higher and hotter than they were before, and I suddenly remember the other people that I care about. Finn is down there. My father. My friends.

I can’t lose anyone else tonight.

I begin to pick my way across the rubble toward the door. My arm hurts with every small movement; it’s hard to keep it from being jostled. I bend down and rip at my petticoat. The thin cotton tears easily enough. I knot it into a sort of makeshift sling around my neck and slide my wounded arm into it, gasping at the pain. This would be easier if I could heal myself, but healing magic doesn’t work that way.

At the door, I pause and look over my shoulder. It’s not really Maura anymore, I remind myself. Her sense of humor, her ferocious temper, her desperate desire to be loved—everything that made her Maura—those things are already gone. I’m not leaving her. It was the other way around. She’s gone ahead of me, into a place I can only wonder about, and she won’t be alone there. She’ll have Brenna and Zara and Mother.

Tears slip over my cheeks again. I want my mother. Want someone to hold me and stroke my hair and whisper that it will be all right.

But I’m not a child anymore, and even if someone told me that, I wouldn’t believe it.

Tonight feels like a crucible.

Before, with Maura.

And after, without.

• • •

The council building seems to have been evacuated. Everything is still and silent as I make my way downstairs. Outside, I glance up at the cathedral’s broken spire, wedged mid-fall against the bell tower. Eventually, I suppose gravity will do its work, and it will all come tumbling down. It’s for the best that there isn’t a crowd here gawking.

The heart of the city has an eerie, abandoned quality. Only a single lanky guard patrols the sidewalk in front of Richmond Square. He hastens over when he sees me.

“Sister, what are you doing? Didn’t you hear the evacuation order?” He takes in my bedraggled state as he draws on his cigarette. “Were you hurt in the accident?”

“I’ll be all right.” I smile through gritted teeth. “I’m looking for Sister Inez.”

His breath fogs the cold air. “She took a carriage down to the river district. Heard her talking about a fire that might disrupt the quarantine. Most of the guard was sent down to barricade the river district this afternoon.” He gives me a patronizing smile, though he can’t be much older than me. “I say, keep the river rats where they belong. Keep ’em from spreading disease to the quality.”

And I suppose he thinks he’s an instance of quality. I make a low, noncommittal noise at the back of my throat. “Have you seen a little blonde? Another convent girl? We were separated in all the confusion.”

He nods. “She asked after Sister Inez, too. Seemed awful upset. I offered to fetch her a hack, but she didn’t want help. Can I get one for you?”

So Tess went after Inez on foot. If I go by carriage, perhaps I can overtake her.

“No, thank you. I can manage.” I walk two blocks uptown, where carriages and wagons are rattling past. A hired hack trots past and I flag it down. A lady would never ride in one alone, but I’m well past worrying about being a proper young lady. “Could you take me to the river district, please? To the Golden Hart?”

The mustachioed driver looks askance at me, and I’m not certain whether it’s because I’ve asked him to take me to a house of ill repute or because I’ve got a broken arm, a cloak covered in dust, a scraped-up cheek, and swollen eyes. Possibly both.

“River district’s closed off, miss. Quarantined. And there’s a fire at one of them big warehouses near the Golden Hart. Can I take you somewhere else?” The big bay snorts and paws at the ground restlessly, and I wonder if he can smell smoke on the wind.