“You can’t actually believe I would think that.” I folded my arms over my chest and narrowed my gaze. “One mechanical arm doesn’t annul your humanity.”

He bared a cold smile at me, one that was full of teeth. “Who said it was only one mechanical arm?”

I clamped my mouth shut, uncertain as to whether I wanted him to explain what he meant. When I glanced at Karolina she screwed her lips into a sideways pucker and shrugged. I’d managed to accept the miraculous truth of Falak’s infirmity with grace. Any further revelations might have strained my daily limit for tolerating the strange and extraordinary, so I put my questions away for later.

Svieta finished doctoring Falak’s shoulder and returned her ointment jar to her bag. She drew out a device that looked like a series of monocles attached to leather straps. She adjusted the strap to fit securely over her head, holding the lenses over her right eye. After flicking a glass in place, she gathered Falak’s dismembered arm into his lap. She removed a long, pointed tool from her bag and poked the joint at the inside of the elbow. Clucking her tongue, she exchanged the lens over her eye for a different one and poked the appendage again.

Something clicked, and a plate over the biceps slid open, revealing a complicated nest of tiny gears, pulleys, levers, and cables. I leaned forward, squinting to get a better look. “An amazing feat of engineering, isn’t it?” Falak asked.

“I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“But you’ve been aboard a Fantazike airship.”

Karolina gasped, and her eyes went big and round. “You have?”

I ignored her outburst. “Those ships work on a different set of principles. Ones that favored my particular abilities.”

Svieta stroked her chin as she selected more tools from her satchel. Again, she prodded the arm, oblivious to our conversation. Falak rubbed his wounded shoulder and pursed his lips. “How’s that?” he asked.

“The Fantazikes’ airships have engines that propel them along when the air currents are stagnant.”

“Clockwork engines? Or steam?”

“They’re fueled by lightning.”

He blinked like a startled owl. Karolina wore a similar look. “Lightning?” she asked.

“Don’t ask me how it works. I only know they have a method for capturing lightning and using it for power.”

Falak scratched the sprinkle of black whiskers growing along his jaw. “Some things are starting to make more sense.”

“There was a time when the lightning was like another body part.” I pointed to Falak’s mechanical arm in Svieta’s lap. “It was a part of me. Now it’s gone.”

“And the Fantazikes are going to help you restore it?”

“That’s my hope.”

“How did you lose it?”

I tugged at my shirt collar and glanced away. “Been asking myself that question for weeks.” Not a lie, but not the complete truth either. I now lived in a shady world that existed somewhere between ideal honor and blatant deceit. A few months ago, I might have felt worse about withholding truths, but the threat of death and enslavement had put certain things in perspective.

“Too bad you don’t have a divine tinkerer of your own.” Falak patted Svieta’s shoulder. “She can repair almost anything, but I don’t think she can fix your problem.”

“No. I don’t expect she can.” I stood and stretched until my backbones popped. Taking a hint, Karolina rose beside me. I shoved my hands in my trouser pockets and frowned. “But she can fix yours, right?”

Falak smiled, although his eyes remained dim. “I have no doubts.”

“Can I do anything to help?”

He rubbed his face, and his shoulders slumped. Exhaustion enshrouded him like a cloak. “If you’ll deal with seeing to the wayward princess, I would be most grateful.”

I bent in a casual curtsey. “Get some rest. I hope you feel better tomorrow.”

After grabbing Karolina’s arm, I tugged her out of Falak’s wagon. “It’s not only him you’d have to convince to let you stay,” I said after we’d climbed to the ground. “It’s the whole circus, and I promise you, they don’t like outsiders.”

“They don’t like you?” She snorted. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Why are you so bitter?” I asked, my fingers still firmly locked around her upper arm. “I could be your ally. Instead, you’d rather make me your enemy.”

She switched to Inselgrish. “I don’t need the help of a homeless, destitute, powerless queen.”

I tightened my fingers. She yelped, and I yanked her closer. “You sure that’s the bet you want to make?”

“What are you talking about?” The petulance in her tone came through clearly. Her animosity was fierce, as though it were intentional. But why would she try so hard to push me away? We barely knew each other. Did her hostility toward me have something to do with Gideon?

I released her arm and stepped away. “You’re betting that things will always be as they are now. That fate won’t turn”—I snapped my fingers—“in an instant. That I’m weak, stupid, and beaten. That I’ve already surrendered.”

I turned my back on her and strode away, my footsteps sharp and heavy.

“W-where are you going?” Her confidence wavered. I heard the crack in her voice—I heard her fear.

“I’m going to bed. You can either come with me, or you can stand there until someone locks you up with Sher-sah.” I pointed at the night sky where thickening clouds and a brisk wind promised an oncoming storm. “Or, you can sleep out here in the rain.”

“What about Mika? He’s scared of storms.”

I stopped and turned around, facing Karolina’s dark shadow. “Your horse? Where is he?”

“Down the road a ways, waiting for me.”

I smeared a hand over my face and groaned. My back ached, my feet throbbed, and nothing appealed to me more than curling up on my sleeping pallet and sinking into blissful oblivion until morning. “Come on. Let’s get him put away before the rain hits. I need to check on Adaleiz anyway.”

In blessed silence, Karolina and I hiked out of the wagon train and onto the road, following the path for several dozen yards before a distinctly equine sigh gave away Mika’s presence. He spluttered and stamped at the ground, obviously excited for Karolina’s return.

“Oh, miláčku.” The princess raced forward. Ambient light from the night sky illuminated Mika’s silvery coat as Karolina threw her arms around the horse’s neck. “Omlouvám se, miláčku.”

Well, at least she’s sweet to her horse. “Did you bring any feed for him?” I asked as I joined the reunited pair.

The princess paused and cleared her throat. “Um....”

“Did you think this through at all?” A little voice in my subconscious urged me not to judge too harshly. I’d once been a naïve and spoiled princess who hadn’t known how to skin a rabbit or start a campfire. My circumstances had forced me to flee without adequate preparation, and if I hadn’t had Gideon watching out for me.... I shivered, thinking of all the things that could have gone wrong. Karolina deserved at least the same consideration Gideon had given me all those months before.

Instead of berating her for her thoughtlessness, I bit my tongue and motioned for her to follow me back to the wagon train. The steady clop of Mika’s hooves on the dirt road softened the hard spots that Karolina’s earlier acerbity had formed in my heart. I’d brought enough feed to supply Adaleiz for a while, but splitting those rations with Mika would mean running out much sooner than planned, but I would never let a horse go hungry if I could help it. And if we were returning to the castle anyway...

I’d asked my previous question rhetorically, not expecting Karolina to answer, but she did, in an uncharacteristically meek tone. “No. I didn’t plan anything at all. It was impulsive, and maybe a little thoughtless, but I had to get out of there, Evie. I had to.” Her voice hardened again. “And I’m not going back. Falak is wrong. I’m not useless, and I’ll prove it to him. Then he’ll have to let me stay.”

“Even if you could change Falak’s mind, I can’t betray Tereza that way. She offered me shelter and protection. Otokar saved Gideon’s life. The least I can do in return is bring her sister safely home.”

“Even if it means Le Poing Fermé might find you?”