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“I haven’t had the chance.” His eyes narrow, but he takes my hand. I squeeze his in return. “Nophe, what’s wrong?”

“My dream ... I dreamed that Moseus was there, at Machine Three, when I forgot. Like ... he was the one who did it.” The way his countenance falls, I immediately regret the words. “But that’s the thing, Heartwood. It was a dream. Every memory I’ve reclaimed ... I’ve had them fully awake. They press into my mind like I’m reliving them all over again. I’ve never had any come to me while I was sleeping. So I don’t know if it’s a dream, or—”

“Or not,” he finishes for me. Jaw set, he contemplates. “I have known Moseus a while. Several years. He doesn’t possess anything that—”

The lift hums. I release Heartwood and return to the door, crouching before it just as Moseus steps out.Cool and solid as the marble. I am this wall.

“Nothing I do will allow us to pass the shield,” Moseus says to Heartwood, referring to the mirrorlike substance surrounding Machine Five. “It must be up there, perhaps in the enclosed piece projecting from the tower. Pell, I need you to construct something to allow us passage past the silver. Perhaps I will understand something you do not.”

I nod, running my hands over the door seams so I won’t have to turn around. So my face won’t give me away, the way Heartwood’s does him. In truth, all I want to do is bury myself in Heartwood’s arms and hide my face from the world, but this fear ties me down like the jaws of an animal trap, and—

My hand runs over that divot in the stone near the top of the door. It’s shallow and looks like a natural formation of the stone. And yet now, as I stare at it, it seems familiar to me. I’ve looked at it before, in the time I’m not supposed to remember. I trace it now as I did then.

I look at it from a few different angles, then stand and take a step back. Gasp.

I know this shape. It’s not random—I’ve seen it before. It’s the exact same cut, the exact same size, as the brooch Salki wears.

“Pell?” Heartwood asks, and behind my excitement, I thank him for withholding his preferred nickname for me.

Straightening, I turn toward the tower keepers. “I think I know how to open this door.”

Chapter 24

Thamton calls out to me as I race by in the mist, but I can’t make out his words, and I don’t stop to ask. I race to Salki’s home, thinking that with all this running, I’m going to need to up my food rations. I pound heavily when I reach the door. “Salki! Wake up! It’s Pell!”

Another round of rapping, and Casnia opens the door with a frown. Her short black hair is plastered to one side of her head.

“Pell,” she says simply, and doesn’t resist when I push my way in.

Salki sits up on her cot, rubbing her eyes. “Has something happened?”

“I need your brooch.” She isn’t wearing it.

She blinks at me. “My brooch? Why?”

“I ...” I try to think of a good reason, but my ability to lie can only stretch so far. “This is going to sound insane, but there’s a door inside the old tower with a notch shaped exactly like that brooch.”

Salki stares at me. “Wh-What? You ... you got into the old tower?”

I sit on the cot beside her. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? I have good reasons, and I can explain them later, but I’d love to get back there and test my theory before the mist lifts.” I have no idea what connection Salki’s brooch has to the tower, but that’s a mystery I can figure out later. She most likely discovered it while tending crops, like the sundial. Like I have with all my Ancient artifacts, pre-tower.

Casnia starts moaning, either because I woke her up or because she’s hungry. Likely both.

Salki grabs my arm. “What’s in there? Can I see?”

“Uh, maybe. Listen, I can’t promise anything, but I need that brooch. I’ll bring it right back.”

Salki glances over to the little table between her cot and Casnia’s. “That’s where all the scraps are coming from.”

“Yes. You’ll keep it a secret, right?”

She nods absently. “What door?”

“Salki.” I grasp her shoulders. “I will spill my guts to you later. But the mists. I have to return before they lift.”

Rising, she moves to the table and pulls out its little drawer, picking the tin brooch from it. Holds it tightly in her hand. “You’re not going to bend it or melt it down, right?”

I leap to my feet. “I promise.”