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THIRTY-NINE

T hat night, as Kel counted her breaths and stared up at the hospital’s dark ceiling, she wanted nothing more than to blink and see the dawn.

Though her therapists seemed confident in her recovery, Kel wasn’t sure that her doctor would release her in the morning.

Progress or not, she’d refused to let anyone take her blood.

Her doctor had tried to convince Kel otherwise, but something strange niggled in her veins whenever a nurse loomed with a needle.

Her mind filled with the needles that her father had been subjected to, before his spirit flickered out like a candle.

Kel sat up and glanced around the room. The dark-haired girl who’d been lying in a distant bed a week ago was still there, breathing slowly.

The girl appeared asleep, so Kel flicked on the small media screen above her head. Her lips pulled up as the first channel showed a recent interview with Coup. His easy warmth was like a polished dagger, gleaming with confidence, aimed directly at the camera.

She’d once thought his broadcasted charisma was effortless. Now, she saw it for what it really was: a well-rehearsed symphony, each note perfectly tuned. But she couldn’t imagine the exhaustion it took to perfect every performance. To command such a presence.

When she’d had her fill of Coup’s razor-sharp smile and quips about their team, about Kel , she flicked the screen off. With a weary huff, she swung her feet off the bed. The cold tiles sent shivers up her spine.

Between the media coverage, Cristo’s hazy promises and her own knotted feelings around the last time she’d seen Sav, Kel knew she had to find her phoenix.

Finally, there was no one here to stop her.

Her hospital pajamas rustled as she crept down the hall. She had no clue how to find Savita’s aviary from the hospital wing, but she had to try. Tonight—before she was officially freed—might be her only chance to catch Cristo off guard.

Kel paused as she passed the dark-haired girl’s bed. Around Kel’s age, she was crowded by thrumming machines. Her raven hair fanned her gaunt face like a halo, and her warm, olive skin was pulled taut around her cheekbones. The girl looked strangely familiar—but Kel couldn’t think from where.

And she didn’t have time to linger.

A nurse hunched behind the hospital’s reception desk, but Kel crawled through the shadows without notice.

It was hard to tell where the hospital ended and the rest of the facilities began—every room was painted the same pearly shade of white, the night’s shadows turning them gray.

She’d never ventured down this cluster of corridors and couldn’t tell if she was moving farther from or closer to Sav’s aviary.

The wound at Kel’s hip ached as she rushed past rooms that looked like research labs.

Most windows were tinted, but the few clear panels showed test tubes and microscopes.

Down another corridor, she paused before a sliver of startling silver light gleaming from beneath a door.

Intrigued, she scrunched one eye and tried to peek through the narrow space between the door and its frame.

She couldn’t make out much—the hall was cast in darkness—just a huge, long room with silver, jagged walls.

Shock chased the last of her weariness away.

It was another prism. Larger and locked.

The diamond room Cristo had shown her was barely big enough to fit a phoenix, but this rebirth chamber seemed to stretch on endlessly, big enough for an entire CAPR track to fit inside.

What could Cristo possibly want with a diamond hall so monstrous?

She couldn’t even fathom how much it might have cost. Why would he lock one prism and leave another open?

Disbelief and dread knotted inside her. She reeled back into the center of the corridor, just as a door echoed ahead of her.

Voices drifted down the hall.

Kel’s heart leaped into her throat. Though the hallways were unguarded and apparently empty of cameras, it was clear that these rooms were restricted. Cristo was already keeping an eye on her and limiting her access. If anyone caught her sneaking around…

Kel shook the nearest door handle. It refused to budge. The next and the next— all locked .

The voices drifted closer and Kel’s pulse rang in her ears. She recognized one of them.

Cristo.

Lights flickered on overhead.

Just as Kel became certain she’d be seen, a door handle budged. Just a small supply closet that she could barely fit inside, but it was better than being a sitting duck in the hallway.

Kel slipped inside as the voices boomed beyond the closet. She couldn’t make out the words, but Cristo sounded agitated. Carefully, Kel pressed her ear against the door.

“… should occur in the next few days. You were right. That last race sped things up. We moved her yesterday.”

“Good, good,” Kel heard Cristo respond. “Have you made any headway on the inducement?”

Inducement?

The other man cleared his throat. “Not yet. It’s hard to get close enough to trial anything.”

Cristo made a low, grumbling sound. “Keep trying. I want it done by tomorrow night.”

When their steps grew farther away, Kel let out a hard breath. She moved back from the door. Her foot caught on the handle of a mop bucket and she tripped, flailing her arms for balance. There was a row of lab coats hanging next to her, and Kel put her hand on them to steady herself.

The wall gave way.

Kel toppled over and landed face down on the cold, hard floor. Pain lanced through her back, a hazy reminder of her fall through the forest. Hoping Cristo hadn’t heard her, Kel slowly rose onto her elbows.

She looked back at the closet wall—but it wasn’t a wall, it was a door . The four lab coats had hung along the top of the door, which had been left ajar. The closet she’d hidden in was connected to one of Cristo’s labs, hidden away behind tinted windows.

Kel rose to her feet.

She could no longer hear any voices, so she ventured into the center of the room. A dozen silver benches filled the space, covered with tubes and equipment that she’d seen in Cristo’s other labs. At the far end of the room stood a towering glass cabinet.

Kel wrapped her arms around herself, though it did little to protect against the chill. Why did these labs have dark windows?

The closest bench was covered with brown folders. Neat papers lay stacked inside. She flipped one open and could barely read the handwriting scratched across the pages. There were notes, equations, a few hastily sketched diagrams. Nothing incriminating.

Kel moved to the next bench. A microscope crowded the desk. To its right, a pad with more scribbled notes. To its left, a small white box labeled: S AMPLES .

With trembling fingers, Kel lifted the box’s lid.

Dozens of preserved sample slides lay in neat rows. As carefully as she could, Kel pulled a few from their slots.

Bile rose in her throat.

Even though the samples were near-invisible, even though the room was ink-black, Kel knew what she was looking at.

Beak trimmings. Clipped talons. Feather barbs. Bone splinters.

Blood.