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“I’m going burn the bones out of your body and dance on your grave for taking this away from me.” She glares at the wall we came through.

“What did she do to you?”

She blinks slowly. Then looks off, ignoring the question.

“You’re coming with me.”

“To be burned? No, thank you. You’ll have to kill me here, before I kill you.” In a burst of strength, she tries to spin away, but my fingers snag on her hair and I grab a fistful, pulling her back to me. Her chin hits my chest. She glares up at me. I press the flaming dagger at her throat again.

“I am not having you burned. Yet.” Her heart races and I feel it rending my chest.

“So what is your plan?” She eyes the knife.

“Beaulah is after the Sphere. And she intends to do something worse than break it.”

Quell’s body stills beneath mine and a part of me is relieved.

“I suspect she intends to take its power for herself, which risks the Sphere bleeding out and ending all magic. Or worse, if she succeeds, someone like her would be in control of it.” It’s the only plausible possibility, given how desperate she’s been to study the Sphere. “She has to be stopped. The future of the Order, the future of all magic is at risk.”

She meets my eyes, listening intently.

“I was hoping you might know more about her plans from your time here.”

“I don’t. If you want her dead, let me go. I’ll take care of that now.” She pulls away from me, and because she’s calmed, I let go of her.

“I can’t let you do that,” I go on. “I want evidence of her crimes. I want to catch her in the act so she can be taken in and made to answer for all the heinous things she’s done. To her, being removed from power is a fate worse than death.”

“You have a whole brotherhood. Why do you need to partner with a fugitive?”

“We’re going to beat her to the Sphere and catch her in the act of trying to steal its power. You can track the Sphere faster than anyone. Yagrin says you’re the best.” The anger inside her has been replaced by something much heavier.

“Something bad happened to you here,” I say. An olive branch of sorts.

“I don’t need your sympathy.”

Her dismissiveness incenses me. “Whatever costs you had to pay for that poor decision are your own doing.”

She’s silent.

“We’re going.” I grab her wrist. She doesn’t budge.

“You can take my corpse. If I go alive, it will be because I choose to.”

“You’re a walking dead girl. Choice isn’t a luxury you have.”

“A dead girl doesn’t fear ultimatums.”

“Demonstrating loyalty to the Order can only help your case.”

“I thought you wanted me dead.”

I release a sharp breath, my patience waning. “I want what the Order requires. And for a bit longer, that’s you, alive.”

“I don’t know, ripping your heart out of your chest, in the bowels of your childhood home, sounds a bit more entertaining.”

“Fine!” I’m done trying to do this the nice way. I press the blade so hard against her it forces her chin up. “You thought you had it figured out, didn’t you? You flitted from Darragh Marionne’s cage to Hartsboro’s, like a little sparrow, with your sorrowful songs about how oppressed you were there.”

Pink rushes to her cheeks.