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“Are they running?” Chance asked

“I suspect so They need to regroup before they face round, unless they surprised ain, and I wouldn’t make that mistake twice

Once I passed the rune of silence, I couldn’t hear the destruction behind us any any survivors we had arded their lower classes If I killed these days, it was purposeful, not a casual result of mass destruction

A long hallway lay before us, with doors on opposite sides as far as the eye could see The corridors branched farther out, going left and right; this warren orse than the prison where they kept their entertainment

“The Saremon are really into experimentation,” Chance observed

Greydusk nodded, apparently not realizing it was a joke “They’re always looking for ways to add to their abilities They’re not as physically strong as the Hazo, but their aptitude for ick is unmatched”

I raised a brow, and he added, “Until your return, Your Majesty”

Mollified, I strode over the dark tiles Here, the floor looked like polished obsidian, etched with various runes I stopped when I realized I could understand thenored the irrelevant areas of study, like pyromancy and divinations Greydusk had stopped too and read the runes alongside me

“Research?” he guessed

“It’s as likely a place as any to start”

I continued down the straightaway and cut left, as the runes had indicated None of the doors were locked Soreat haste Labs showed experiredients and odd lanced at Greydusk, ore aexpression of bewildered awe—and that toldthe other castes There were cages full of strange, hybrid creatures, likely bred by the Sareh for what purpose I had no clue

In one room, machines with knobs and levers with piles of copper cables connected to a weird black box emitted a low hum It was like that for fifteen different roo If he dared…

“I’ve been following the cables,” Greydusk said, interrupting hts

“Oh?”

“I think you want to see this”

I ith him, and I noticed that the cables went froh the hallways Then I stepped into the room the Imaron indicated and ti like it I couldn’t even iine the purpose

A ed into his flesh At first I thought he must be dead, for they had cut open his chest and filled it with transparent liquid, and where his heart ought to have been, he had a bright, glowing jewel suspended in the solution In place of flesh, he had glass case the ones who had done this to him to see inside his sternum

“What the hell?” Chance gasped

That su, we should cut hiht surprised ers, but that was my human aspect, I supposed I wasn’t the queen I had been, but any version of myself was better than oblivion

As I stepped closer, the man’s eyelids fluttered open, and I took that first look like a fist in the face I knew those blue eyes I knew this er But the other part of me remembered his French toast and his predilection for Panaed forth with desperate strength She had to be in control in thisthe bittersweet reunion Because I understood its iht; I fell back, and this time, the shift occurred without pain

I reached out and touched his face, cupping his bony cheek If they ever fed him, it didn’t show He had the skeletal shape of one affixed to a cross, a martyr’s bones beneath his skin

“Dad?” Despite Oz’s taunts, I hadn’t expected to find h he looked awful This man appeared to be no more than five years older than me “What have they done to you?”

His lips moved but no sound resulted Frustration flashed in his thin face A copper as plugged into his throat and he turned his head slightly toward the knob next to it, trying to tellI clicked it on and adjusted it

His voice eed froet out of here before the ister returns”

All Sarees; that wasn’t a helpful distinction “Which one?”

“The others call him Oz, but I don’t think that’s actually his name”

My hands fisted in ier “He’s the one responsible for this?”

“Yes Go”

“Will it hurt if I unplug you?” I asked

For the first time, hope dawned on his desperate features “Hurt, yes Would kill me I can’t survive outside this contraption” And by his tone, he didn’t want to He wanted to be free like the dearest of unfulfilled dreams

“You don’t recognize me, do you?” It was impossible that he would

I had been a child of seven when the deapped teeth, and mousy brown braids My father, Albert Solo my face with ferocious concentration His eyes—so like mine—widened A pained sound escaped the speaker

“Corine?” He didn’t wait for rown up Have I been here so long?”

An eternity for him, no doubt Over twenty years in the human realm

“It’s me,” I said softly