Page 186 of Carousel

“In a way, yes. But I believe you didn’t quite understand my meaning. Drake’s magic was already split once. It wouldn’t be split again. What has already been split would be used.”

Leisurely, he takes the drawing compass from his desk. Stabs the metal point, hard, into the binding of a book.

It leaves a tiny hole.

His meaning couldn’t be clearer.

The magic wouldn’t be bled from Drake.

It would be bled from me.

“It’s a good thing we’re not in Rhavna, then, isn’t it?” I ask, trying to gain the upper hand again, despite the pounding of my heart. “You couldn’t just bleed me here.”

“Let me correct you again. We are not in Rhavna yet.”

Yet. He said yet. Because –

I go cold.

Mother is waiting for her guests.

I’m backing away from him – but the sound of the door opening behind me distracts me. Someone tall and bony is striding through it, white robes flowing. His pale, dry-looking face seems to shine as brightly as his bald head.

“Superb timing, Vikemy,” Dezeeves says. “Good flight?"

Vikemy sweeps past me. He takes the seat I was just in, dropping a hefty book stamped with the crest of The Assembly onto the table.

I’m stunned to see him.

But then it makes sense.

Chapp’s State Craftsman had come on board The Emperor for the trial, and to deliver the verdict. And Vikemy, State Craftsman of our village, would be Cosmer’s.

“Alone with unshackled prisoners again, Dezeeves?” he drawls, opening the book. “Anyone would think you had a death wish.”

“That is often exactly what I have,” Dezeeves says, perfectly monotone. “What a pity Ara threw her opportunity.” His flask has found his hand again. “Ara, before you go – I do agree with you that spending any longer in Integration would not be fruitful for you or Drake at this stage. I will change your statuses to Fully Integrated. I will let the Laundry know you will be collecting standard uniform shortly.”

I go straight to the door. Grasp the handle.

“And I would urge you,” he continues behind me, “to think very carefully, these next couple of days, about what it is that you are hoping to achieve in this lifetime. I promise you it will be very little, if you continue to make the wrong choices.”

I walk out of the room with my head high, hoping that gives me back at least some of the dignity I just lost.

And I should go straight up to the airlock. There is no other option. I can’t stay on this ship a minute longer. Can’t stay alive a minute longer. Not if my choices are to marry Drake and let my magic combine properly with his, or be bled until there is nothing left in me.

But even as I think it, I know in my soul I’m not going to do that. Not when I still have people who love me and need me.

The grate to the deck is open. I head out of it, towards the stairs.

But they’re blocked.

Riss is sitting hunched at the bottom of them.

She’s crying.

And I understand.

I run over to her. Wrap my arms around her small frame. She hugs me back fully.