Page 39 of The Threads Between

“Garrick will set it using lamp oil. The smoke will trigger an evacuation, chaos and panic. Three hundred people trying to leave at once.” Beatrice’s finger traced the exits. “That gives us the cover we need. Everyone will be focused on escaping, not on what's happening onstage.”

“And the glamours?” Adeline asked.

“Syra holds them from outside.” Beatrice looked toward the wall where Syra leaned. “Lily, Adeline, and Garrick need to be unrecognizable. If Elias sees any of their real faces, the plan is finished.”

Syra straightened—not a protest, exactly, but her weight came forward in a way that made the word outside land differently. “Holding three simultaneous glamours through walls and distance. For hours.”

“Can you do it?”

Her mouth curved into something sharp. “Of course I can do it.” But her jaw was tight.

“You'll be safer outside,” Mira said gently. “If things go wrong⁠—”

“If things go wrong, I'll be useless on the street while you're all dying inside.” Syra's voice cut clean. “But fine. I'll maintain the glamours. Just don't get yourselves killed while I'm busy making you look presentable.”

“And I suppress the pendant,” Beatrice continued. “A temporary dampening—enough that August won't fight when Lily takes him. You'll have minutes. Maybe less.”

“What about the Weaver?” Marigold's voice was small. “The woman Elias is going to make August unravel. Can we save her?”

No one answered immediately.

Beatrice weighed her response. “If we move quickly enough. Adeline—during the chaos, you get to the Weaver woman. Free her if you can. Get her into the crowd.”

“And if I can't reach her in time?” Adeline's voice was steady, but her hands hadn't released the table edge.

“Then we accept that we tried.” Beatrice met her gaze. “August is the priority. Saving him saves hundreds of Weavers he'd be forced to kill in the coming months. But if the timing works—we save her too.”

“I can do it,” Adeline said quietly.

“Escape route,” Beatrice continued. “Main doors, with the fleeing crowd. Two carriages waiting across the street. Lily, August, and I take the first—straight back here, where I perform a second, stronger suppression. Long enough for all six bonding stages.” She looked around the table. “The rest of you in the second carriage, following behind.”

“And if we're separated?” Garrick's question was directed at Mira, not the group.

“We regroup here,” Adeline answered. But Garrick kept looking at Mira until she nodded.

Beatrice folded her hands. “Lily. Questions?”

So many. What if I'm not strong enough? What if August doesn't recognize me? What if my magic lunges the way it did with Beatrice, feral and starving, before he's ready?

“What if something goes wrong?” I asked instead.

“Then we improvise.” Beatrice's gaze held mine. “But Lily—you need to trust the plan. Trust your training. And trust August. Trust that his magic will recognize yours even if his mind doesn't.”

Trust.

The word sat uncomfortably in my chest.

I thought about the training. The bleeding. How my magic had tried to force the bond with Beatrice, desperate and out of control.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I want to say yes. But honestly? I’m terrified I’ll fail.”

“You’re doing it again.” Garrick’s voice was quieter than usual.

“Doing what?”

“Trying to carry it all yourself.” He met my eyes. “I recognize the pattern. Perfected it myself for years. Very effective for survival. Equally effective for making sure no one can actually help you.”

His eyes flicked to Mira, then back to me.