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“And if you do anything stupid to Duluth,” Serval hissed, “Atticus told me I get to be the one to kill ya.”

“I won’t,” Orpheus whispered, trembling. Atticus gave his arm a half-hearted pat.

“Then we’re still in agreement. Forgive me for the show of force, I can’t take any chances with Gwen.” From within his bag Atticus removed a familiar leather roll. Silver glinted in the sunlight, a sister set of tools to those Atticus had given him, and older than what he’d left behind at home. A solemn expression crossed Atticus’ face when he held the tools out; Orpheus took them with a careful reverence.

“Is there anything else you need?” Atticus said, eyes still locked on the leather roll.

“No, this…this is all.”

Atticus dipped his chin, then retrieved the vial of Orpheus’ blood from his bag and unlocked his collar. It slid from his throat, a false release that somehow felt real.

Free. He was free. Exposed and in the open, the world sprawling around him in defiant temptation, wind cold at his back and air open before him.

Run, it seemed to hiss, but where the hell would he go?

You could jump, his mind offered. He caught you every time before.

Orpheus didn’t know if it was fate he’d be testing, or Fenrir’s Hells forsaken promise. But he knew, whatever forces were at play, his best chance at survival remained here, with Gwen.

Trust her, the voice said. You trust her.

And Gwen…Gwen trusted him.

Their eyes met, Gwen’s face carefully masked in a way he’d only ever seen once—when riding atop that mare through Sanctuary’s streets—and maybe that was why he didn’t notice them at first: the three gray-cloaked men approaching from the southern wall.

The hermits—no, the Architects.

The Architects were here?

For you, the voice whispered. They’ve come here for you.

Orpheus took an abrupt step back, his crutch wobbling.

“Like I said, this is a demonstration only.” Atticus’ hand returned to his elbow, pressure firm but not biting. “Do as I say and they will not touch you.”

“What is this?” he hissed, staring at the men’s hooded faces but unable to see—unable to comprehend. For the first time in weeks, the buzzing returned, filling his head with enough noise to drown out the world.

“Easy,” Atticus murmured, stepping close. Then, “Lamont, I’m happy you have joined us.”

An Architect older than the rest stepped forward, a break of sunlight catching eyes the color of water. “Do not mistake our presence as approval of—”

“—Of my continued progress restoring Sanctuary to its former glory?” Atticus gestured as the city sprawled below, the hundreds of tiny violet lights winking amongst the windows, the swoop of mechanical birds on their way to deliver a missive or message, the quiet chug of a water recycler hard at work preparing for the oncoming rain.

“It’s not enough, Atticus. Your progress is too slow.” The Architect who spoke did not linger at a distance. He shuffled ahead, straight towards Orpheus, watery eyes on his. For all his age, there was a shrewdness to his gaze, an acute attention focused solely on him that made the hairs on the back of Orpheus’ neck stand on end.

“Atticus,” Orpheus hissed under his choppy breath. He took another step back, and this time his shoulders hit Duluth’s chest, the blade at his throat sawing lightly but that didn’t matter because the Architect…he kept coming, and coming, and coming—

Atticus’ hand landed on the Architect’s shoulder with enough weight to make the man stumble to a stop.

“Lamont, I insist.” Atticus may have spoken to the Architect, but his eyes were on Orpheus. “This man is dangerous and I do not recommend getting close.”

“All the more reason, Atticus, to extract all we can from this man before you lose control of the situation. You know better than to play at making friends.”

“Friends?” Atticus stepped between Orpheus and the Architect. “Forgotten my wife already, have you?”

“Of course I haven’t, Atticus,” the Architect sighed. “You know I didn’t mean—”

“Good. Because as you know, Sanctuary is starving, and its people have elected me with the task to save her. Rest assured I am not here to make friends.”