The blue extraction beam hit the locket, and for a fraction of a second, the tunnel erupted in a blinding, chaotic spray of light”fragments of memories, corrupted data, and static. The memory-collector shrieked, a sound like grinding metal, as it tried to process the paradox of Cattleya”s existence.
But she didn't wait to see it collapse. She bolted past the shuddering machine, diving into a side corridor that smelled of wet copper and ancient dust.
She wasn't alone.
Tucked into an alcove, shivering violently, was a man she recognized from the Vesper Estate”s inner circle. Julian”once the King”s most refined attaché, a man who had sipped wine in the study while the world above burned. Now, he was a hollowed-out ruin. His silk cravat was stained black, and his skin was a translucent, wa
