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Kitsa’s hand remained firm over hers. “You can,” she said gently. “Don’t try to force the distortion to break. Stabilise the Resonance you do have. Strengthen those harmonies. When they are strong enough, the false ones won’t be able to hold.”

Idonea swallowed hard, breath shaking, but nodded.

Her thoughts drifted to Elzhbeta. No one spoke of her; she remained completely unseen. Surely someone would've tracked her blood. The longer Elzhbeta remained hidden, the more time she had to act, or to vanish.

A cold knot tightened under Idonea’s ribs. She needed to find her, get answers, and find the relic.

Kitsa leaned closer. “Do not rush your mind, Idonea.”

Idonea closed her eyes again, pushing the thought of immediate pursuit to the back of her mind. For now, the task was inside her own head.

Her pulse thrummed too fast. Her own blood humming with the urge to act, to hunt. Sitting here wasn't helping. She got to her feet.

Kitsa's voice cut through the quiet. "The mind is a battlefield, Idonea. Treat it like one."

Idonea nodded, her jaw set. She didn't yet know the full extent of Elzhbeta’s plans.

Idonea looked around the room. “Is it okay if I stay for a moment?”

Kitsa eyed her warily but nodded. “Not too long.”

The door shut behind her. The chamber was hers alone now.

She didn't rise yet. She sat in the centre circle for a long time; what Kitsa had drawn out of her still hummed in her bones.

She was about to reach for her dagger when footsteps sounded in the passage. They stopped at the edge of the chamber. A tired sigh, then Lidiya stepped into the lamplight.

Lidiya wore her shawl drawn tight against her shoulders. Her hands were folded in her sleeves. Her face, in the chamber's low light, looked older than Idonea remembered.

She stopped two paces inside the room and didn't come further.

"Lidiya." Idonea's voice was steadier than she expected, though her hand had drifted instinctively towards her dagger.

"Don't be afraid."

"I'm not."

But her pulse had begun a slow, dreadful climb. She didn't lower her hand from the hilt immediately. She watched the older woman across the chamber, the lamplight finding the silver in Lidiya's hair, and she thought about the path down to the river, and the empty hands, and the way Lidiya had stopped them with that careful warning about the loose lichen.

Idonea measured her words. "You came to see me."

"I came," Lidiya said, "to see what you had decided."

Idonea's brow furrowed. "About what?"

"About my hands. The ones you've been wondering about." Lidiya's voice was very level. "The dirt under the nails the day Arina died. The way I was at the body. The way you saw me, and then didn't let yourself look at me."

Her grip on the dagger tightened, then slackened. "I—"

"I have known you were watching me. I have not minded." Lidiya's mouth curved. "There is a thing I do that looks, from outside, very much like the thing you were watching for."

Idonea's pulse was a slow, heavy drum in her throat. "What is the thing you do?"

Lidiya looked at her. Then she crossed the chamber and lowered herself to sit on a chair opposite Idonea. She didn't look at the dagger. Either she'd decided it wasn't a threat, or she'd decided it didn't matter.

"I keep the dead. The ones the Order will not."

"Lidiya."