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“The clinics,” I say without hesitation. “And Cormac’s suite.”
“I can’t guarantee we’ll have time for both.”
“The clinics then.” I hate having to choose, but getting information on previous alterations, especially on what’s been done with my mother’s soul, has to come first. If things go wrong with Cormac, I might not get another chance to find it.
We move through the main tower and into the rest of the compound, passing the locked studios I saw last night. No one walks the halls. The Spinsters are on the looms. “They’ve fitted these walls with an artificial program.”
“I know,” I say. “There are no windows here at all.”
“Not just that,” Pryana says a trifle wistfully. “It’s one big camera now. Rule number one about life at the Coventry: watch your step. Because they certainly are.”
My eyes flick to the walls, half expecting to see eyes peeking through the plaster at me.
“But they can’t see us because of this?” I ask her, holding up my bracelet.
“Nope. Present from the Agenda,” she says, flashing me a grin.
“How did you get them?” I try to keep suspicion from seeping into my tone.
“Rule number two: the Agenda is everywhere.”
How? It didn’t make sense. No one else had rebelled when I escaped. Then I think of the hidden information on Enora’s digifile. Erik helped her with it.
The seeds of rebellion were planted when we escaped, and they grew while we were gone. I realize that for the first time the accelerated timeline of Arras is working in the Agenda’s favor.
“What are we looking for?” Pryana asks me as we wait quietly by the doors that lead into the medical wing of the compound. Before I can answer she raises a finger to her lips. Two nurses exit, chatting, and Pryana catches the door with the toe of her shoe, swinging it back open for me.
“I want to know what they’ve done to Amie,” I lie, not ready to share all my plans with her. My alliance with Pryana is still too fragile for that.
“You already know that,” Pryana says, glancing over at me. “They altered her memory, wiped it out of her.”
“But I want to know exactly what they did … in case there are side effects,” I say, hoping to sound more convincing.
“And that’s all?” Pryana prompts. She’s not buying it.
“I want to try to reverse what they’ve done to her.”
Pryana’s eyes widen. “And how will you do that?”
“I know some talented Tailors.” I don’t mention my own ability. The less Pryana knows about my plans, the safer we’ll be if she’s caught.
“We should look at the files first,” Pryana says. “I know where they are.”
As soon as we enter I remember everything, right down to the antiseptic scent that burns my nostrils. We pass the cold steel examination table, but when I look above it, I can’t see the helmet of gears and tubes that mapped my brain for the Guild. How necessary are measurements and maps to alter someone?
Pryana has already hacked the main companel by the time I peel my attention from the ghostly room.
“Amie Lewys.” Pryana moves over so that I can look through the files.
I skim the reports, looking for anything that will indicate how much damage they’ve done to Amie, until my gaze catches on the words experiment terminated. A long sigh escapes my mouth. I hadn’t even realized I was holding my breath.
“They’re not trying to alter Amie anymore.” I motion to the companel screen.
Pryana reads it over my shoulder, but instead of looking relieved, her eyebrows knit together.
“What is it?” I ask, even though I dread the answer.
“You’re right about Amie, but what does this mean?” Her index finger trails along the screen and I lean in to see:
