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Somewhat reluctantly, she hands it to me. Its shape really is peculiar: one edge of it licks up then drops into a right triangle. The body is mostly square, with a tuck at the base like the stomach of a dog. The other “corners” are rounded, with a cutout between them like half a keyhole. The whole thing measures about two-thirds the size of my palm.

“Where did you get this?” I ask.

“Entisa had it made for me.” A hint of sorrow tilts the words, but she shakes it off. “I hate waiting for stories,” she mourns, ignoring Casnia’s muted whining.

“Oh, I have a story for you. An insane story.” Even before, I never told her what I was doing. I wasn’t able to.

Cold hands on the sides of my head—

Stifling a shudder, I embrace Salki briefly and head for the door. “I’ll be back, I promise. See ya, Cas.”

Casnia doesn’t respond, and I zip back into the mists.

Both tower keepers are waiting for me when I return. At first I think to avoid Moseus’s gaze, but then I fear that’s too obvious, so I meet it withwhat I hope is a look of triumph. And it is. The sooner I get this tower working, the sooner I’ll be done with him.

What will become of me and Heartwood, once his people are free? That concern hadn’t surfaced before. I didn’t get this close to finishing, before.

The intense expression of hope on Heartwood’s face hurts. I want to reach for him, but I stop myself and approach the door, spinning the brooch in my hand so it will fit in the divot.

And it does. Perfectly.

Yet nothing happens.

I hold it there a moment longer, then, chewing my lip, pull it away and brush it off. Try again. Reverse it so the pin side lays against the stone, even though the edges won’t align, but that likewise does nothing. “I don’t understand. It’s a perfect fit. Heartwood?”

He crouches beside me. I press the brooch into its matching imprint, hard, and he shoves into the wall as he did before. The stone doesn’t budge. There are no whistles or tones, no shifting, no reveals.

My gut sinks into my hips. I was so sure. This brooch and this impression can’t be a coincidence!

“Let me see it.” Moseus holds out his hand.

I pass it to him, purposefully avoiding any contact with his skin.

Lips downturned, he turns the brooch over in his long fingers. Taps his fingernail against it, even bites it. Hums deep in his throat before pressing it to the indentation, just as I had. Heartwood and I both push, but the door doesn’t yield.

Defeated, I sink to my backside. “I was so sure.”

“I will trace this and create another,” Moseus says. “Perhaps the alloy is wrong.”

He walks off with the brooch. Heartwood slumps, defeated. I take his hand in mine and squeeze, trying to reassure him. Then I follow after Moseus; I promised I’d return that brooch, and I don’t want the “peacekeeper” to insist on keeping it.

Fortunately, he doesn’t. He traces it with a graphite pencil, right onto the stone on the far wall, multiple times and at various angles, before handing it back to me. “Don’t lose that.”

“I won’t.” The mist starts to clear. “I’m going to try something else. I’ll be back.”

I have nothing else to try, but I don’t want to stay in the tower if my presence isn’t necessary, even if Heartwood is here. Especially if Heartwood is here. I’ll slip, somehow.

I’m still so afraid.

Pocketing the brooch, I head down the stairs and through the dim first floor. Out the door I didn’t close behind me. I’ve only taken a few steps across the dry soil outside when Heartwood’s voice sounds quietly behind me.

“Nophe.”

My chest constricts as I turn around. He pushes the tower door shut. Between that and the lightening mist, we have a semblance of privacy. So I encircle his waist with my arms and press my forehead into his chest.

“I’m sorry. I know you miss her. I thought this would work.”

“We’ll figure it out.” He tilts my head up, forcing me to look at him. “Are you all right?”