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Alright. I’m furious. And I’m barely holding on to myself. I tense my hands into fists.

“Are you alright?” Leo asks. Then, “Oh. Let me see?”

Wordlessly, I unfurl my hands—the porcelain-gold clockwork creaks as the fingers flex. I raise my right arm up for his inspection. He goes to touch it, but stops himself, fingers hovering close.

“Don’t want to cover it in fingerprints,” he says.

“Why not? You’ve touched the rest of me.”

He flashes me a look, heavy-lidded, and smiles. Unceremoniously, he grabs it, hauling me into his chest with pure force. With his right hand bracing the small of my back, he encourages me to extend the prosthetic up to the light.

“Incredible,” he says, and I pretend he’s looking at my face when he says it. “Just beautiful. And it works?”

“Yes.” I show off for him, flexing, bending. He looks fascinated until he sees my face, which must be bland or telling in some way.

He sighs and pushes me back against the tree trunk. It’s the most intimate we’ve been in days and I don’t know how to feel. I don’t know what to do given I feel next to nothing when he crowds his body against me. I know I would have gone wild for this before the third trial. Even if I’ve never felt attractive, I still felt wholly myself.

Leo can’t understand this, because I don’t tell him. He looks at me and must think I’m upset about the arm itself, and not what it means for the rest of me, not that my humanity and my mortality will always be in stark contrast to the manufactured perfection that has replaced my right arm. I don’t think he would understand even if I did explain it, because I hardly understand what I’m feeling myself. Just that I am not quite right.

“It’s an arm,” he tells me. “And this one is yours. Do you not like it?”

“It’s not about the arm.” I don’t say the rest and his face hardens with understanding. “Or it is, in a way. It’s just another reminder. We must remember we are beholden to this place.”

Leo glances down, hand slipping down the bark. I can still feel the warmth of him, but gone is the heat, the actual pull between us. I don’t want him to touch me, and yet I want nothing more. I am back to impossible contradictions; I just can’t bear to be known so intimately right now.

Leo mistakes my discomfort for fear at our situation. “Listen. It’s just. . . one more trial. We’ll be okay.”

I can’t stand this.

“What did the Lins want?” I ask, chin nodding in the direction they left towards.

Leo looks as if he doesn’t like my question. He leans away from me, hands leaving their purchase on my cheeks. “Nothing,” he lies. Then, sighing, “I don’t know. I think they might do something stupid.”

I recall eavesdropping on them, after the harpy. “They’re not thinking of leaving, are they?”

Leo grimaces and shrugs, which is practically a confirmation. Then he pushes away from me completely and steps back. “What are you doing out here, Cass? I’m guessing you weren’t searching for me.”

Part of me is always searching for you.

I nod my head towards the library and set out towards it, and then Leo makes a noise more exasperated and frustrated than I’ve ever heard from him.

“Cassius,” he pulls my new arm. I stagger to a stop, looking down at the image of connection, of hands holding that I cannot feel. Nausea is sudden and overwhelming and I have to look away. Keep going. Get to the library. Sleep. Face tomorrow. It’s almost over. But Leo speaks over my attempt at reasoning. “Listen to me. Your brother has been no help. I’m sorry, but it isn’t worth it.”

I try to tug my arm free. “It’s the only chance we have. Meléti—”

“—is not on our side. And your brother.” He sighs. “He didn’t know what he was talking about. Okay?”

“Wrong. The hemlock?”

Leo pauses. “Thaddeus wrote down his experience, and burned half the damn letter anyway. We already know he was wrong. The Artificer confirmed it for us; this year is a whole other test to the one he experienced. I am telling you, the only hope we have is being ruthless. We can’t plan for this. Not when they’re trying to kill all of us.”

“Why?” I say. I tug away and fold my arms, feel the hard porcelain through my shirt. “What would be the point? We are here to become the best of the best—that’s what they want. London is suffocated by bodies, and the only people it can protect are the ones who make that protection worthwhile. So that’s why we’re here. To prove ourselves. To earn it. And Meléti is the only source of information we have about what might come next.”

Leo laughs, exasperated. He runs his hands through his hair. “What fucking use is there going back to a teras automaton, an obvious agent of this death-trap institution?”

“Because I don’t know what else to do! And I’m not dying, Leo. I’m not fucking dying!” Because I should be dead by now. Because Cassius Jones has survived this long by pure luck. And if luck is on my side, then so be it. I am barely the same man who entered these trials.

And this man wants to live.