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I rested my hand on his knee. A shudder traveled through his body. Even from the slightest comfort, he seemed to be on the verge of breaking down. He linked his fingers with mine. I squeezed his hand and tried to lend him my strength through our connection. We had almost escaped. All he had to do was hold on.
Night shrouded Vienna. In an alley behind the Academy of Technomancy, Konstantin maneuvered the Eisenkrieger from the back of the truck and limped it to the freight elevator. I hit the call button and waited.
“Fucking hell,” I said. “We made it.”
Wendel touched my arm. Exhaustion shadowed his eyes, but he managed half a smile. The elevator arrived with a ding. Konstantin entered first, still inside the Eisenkrieger. It was amiracle it fit in the elevator. Wendel and I wedged in beside the Eisenkrieger, which had to be too big to press the buttons.
“Which floor?” I asked.
“Basement.” After I hit the button, Konstantin cleared his throat. “If anyone asks, we were testing the Eisenkrieger.”
“We were. Unofficially.”
He coughed. “Nobody but students and interns should be up this late. Midterms, you know. And if they value their grades, they won’t interfere.”
Wendel smirked. What joke did he wish he could say?
The doors to the elevator clunked open, and we entered a dull concrete hallway. When Konstantin waved us onward, the knuckles of the Eisenkrieger accidentally scraped the ceiling. He winced at the noise.
Luckily, nobody seemed to notice, and we reached the laboratory without incident.
It was dark inside, so I hit the switch. Bank after bank of lights blinked on above. Konstantin hobbled to a flatbed trolley and hoisted himself onto it. Slowly, he lowered the Eisenkrieger onto its back. After scooting from the cockpit, he hopped down and staggered on his own stiff legs. Wendel caught his arm to steady him.
“Thank you,” Konstantin said, his cheeks pink. “Ardis? Help me hide the Eisenkrieger.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Hide?”
“Until I can fix it. Or explain why it needs to be fixed.”
Konstantin grabbed a tarp and unrolled it over the battered Eisenkrieger. I took the opposite corner and helped him.
“What happened to Wendel?” Konstantin whispered.
My stomach clenched. I couldn’t even guess what they had done to Wendel. I had once seen a criminal with his tongue cut out, but that had been much bloodier. And that hadn’t silenced him so completely.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
Wendel leaned against the wall and raked his fingers through his ragged hair. Slowly, he slid down to the floor and huddled there.
Worry jolted my nerves. “Wendel?”
He tried and failed to speak again. Obviously, it hurt him greatly to do so, but why? I found a pen and notepad and slid them across the floor to him. He started to write, his words wavering as his hand shook.
Clever of you. Thank you.
“Can you tell us what happened?” I asked.
When Wendel staggered upright, Konstantin wheeled out a chair. “Sit, please.”
Wendel sat down and hunched over a table. He tugged the notepad straight, then hesitated, the tip of his pen digging into the paper. His throat worked as he swallowed hard. Wincing, he motioned to his mouth.
This is their curse. To punish me.
“A curse?” I asked. “What kind of curse? What do you…?”
Wendel put down his pen. He opened his mouth wide. His tongue had been inked with black symbols I couldn’t read. They cut deep enough to bleed.
I gasped. It hurt just to look at him.
