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The silver collar burned cold around his throat, heavy with a weight that suddenly felt a tiny bit lighter.

Gwen hasn’t told them. They think you still have your magic.

They think you’re still a threat.

“Red may come. She’s Fenrir’s best friend and if he’s” —Orpheus swallowed, forced the words out— “dead…if he’s dead she’ll want revenge.” But not that she’s a genius engineer. That she’s on the brink of rediscovering a science that could reshape their world all over again.

Atticus grunted, took Orpheus’ left ring and middle fingers and snapped both back into place.

Orpheus clenched his teeth and whimpered.

“Who else?”

“Farris. He’s a ranking officer in the Empire’s military. He’s got years of service but is always telling stories about the ghosts of the Rim, white cloaks that came out of the mist at night and stole his little girl. Everyone thought he was crazy but now that they know…he’ll want to find his daughter. He’ll come looking for her, and me.” But not that he housed an arsenal of guns in the Stacks. That the fleet of vehicles he services could catch their trail in days, rather than the weeks they’d waste on horseback.

Atticus finished off his left hand and moved onto his right, jerking hard at his middle finger when the bone refused to fit back into place. Five fingers down not counting his thumbs which, thankfully, Duluth had not broken.

Pale eyes leveled with his, unwavering in their focus. “Go on.”

Orpheus blinked back tears and prayed that what he said next wasn’t a bigger mistake than the rest of his hells-forsaken life.

“Empress Lore isn’t dead.”

This time, it was Atticus’ turn to be surprised. He made a little sound, barely a breath sucked past his teeth, but they were close enough Orpheus didn’t miss it.

“Where is she?”

Orpheus bit his lip and immediately regretted it when a fresh pulse of blood flooded his mouth.

“I will break your fingers all over again if you don’t tell me where she is.” Like a peacock unfurling its feathers, Atticus’ true colors were revealed.

“She fled while I was closing the chasm.” It wasn’t a lie, per se, but it wasn’t the entire truth either. He didn’t tell him that she was sealed away in Hell likely after the same kind of revenge Atticus sought, rather than out there, somewhere—a threat lying in wait.

Atticus narrowed his eyes and stared until Orpheus had to look away. Hells, he wasn’t buying it. He was going to break his fingers all over again and then where would Orpheus be? Magicless and maimed. He may as well be—

“Okay. Well done.”

Pain shot through his hand, bone grinding against bone, the forefinger of his right hand struggling to slot back into place, knuckle throbbing with how close the break was to the joint.

“Hmm, that’s a bad one.” Atticus squeezed down, probing at the break, feigning concern; Orpheus choked. “These should help.”

From the bag at his side, Atticus withdrew a heavy set of iron casings. They fit snugly around his hands, molded so they couldn’t move—or maybe that was because of how swollen his finger were—let alone cast, as if the silver collar around his throat wasn’t attuned to smother whatever magic he didn’t even have.

Across the dying campfire, Gwen sat beside Duluth, laughing as the Umbralcat swatted at the fireball she’d placed in his hands. Orpheus watched the Netherflame flicker between Duluth’s fingers, the curls of violet smoke nearly invisible in the shallow morning light, the embers no more than tiny stars compared to the balls of fire he used to summon with a snap.

But it was still Netherflame. It was still magic.

And it still wasn’t his.

“You seemed shocked to discover another of your kind.” Atticus’ voice was close again; Orpheus suppressed a shudder.

“You said you’d answer my questions.” A quick glance at Atticus revealed this may not have been a lie. “Are there more, where you come from?”

“More mages? No, if there were, I can’t say I’d have made the journey all the way out here to find you. You see, my unfortunate mage, I was not lying when I said I have choices to offer you. It’s merely that one particular choice comes with an ultimatum.”

What in all hells did that mean?

“Do you want to die, Orpheus?”