"Get down!" Silas slammed Mira against the stone wall as a blast punched through the outer gate.
Dust dropped from the ceiling. Somewhere below, people started screaming.
Mira shoved at his chest. "Take your hand off me."
"Keep yelling and the soldiers outside will hear exactly where we are."
"Good. Maybe they'll shoot you first."
His palm stayed beside her head, trapping her without quite touching her face. He was close enough for her to feel the heat of him through two layers of cloth. His breath brushed her temple, steady and controlled, like the fortress wasn't under attack.
Like he hadn't just ordered half the city sealed behind burning barricades.
Another blast shook the corridor.
Silas finally pulled back. "The south quarantine block is open."
Mira's stomach dropped. "The children."
"You heard me."
"You said I wasn't allowed near them."
"I changed my mind."
"That's not how orders work."
"In my fortress, it is. Move."
He caught her wrist before she could run past him. The black contract mark around her skin tightened like a hot wire.
Mira sucked in a breath. "Don't use that on me."
"Then stop trying to break the terms."
"The terms said I treat patients under your supervision. They did not say I stand here while children choke."
His jaw flexed. "You don't know what is happening in that ward."
"I know enough. I saw the veins on the boy in the cart. I heard him singing."
"That child is not your concern."
Mira laughed once. It came out sharp. "You dragged me into this place because you need my hands. Now you're telling me not to use them?"
Silas's eyes went flat. "I am telling you that if you enter that ward, you may carry the plague into every room in the Bastion."
"And if I stay here, those kids die."
"You don't know that."
"You do. That's why you're scared."
For half a second, his fingers stopped moving against her wrist.
There. A crack.
Then the distant bells began to ring. Three fast strikes. A pause. Three more.
Silas released her and drew the pistol from beneath his coat.
"What does that mean?" Mira asked.
"The city wall fell."
"You said the Bastion couldn't fall."
"I said it wouldn't."
"That sounds like the same thing from a man who keeps people in chains."
He pointed the gun toward the stairwell. "Stay behind me."
"I would rather walk into the plague."
"You may get your wish."
He moved first. Mira followed because the contract burned whenever she tried to move more than six feet away. Every step pulled at the mark around her wrist. Forced proximity, one more piece of the trap. If Silas ran, she had to run. If he stopped, she stopped. If he died, she suspected the contract would take her with him.
She hated that she had tested that theory already.
The stairwell door burst open before they reached it.
A guard stumbled through, clutching his side. Black lines crawled beneath the skin of his neck. His mouth opened, and a broken note came out.
Silas raised the pistol. "Don't sing."
The guard grabbed the railing. "My lord, they're in the lower yard. The quarantine doors are gone. Someone opened them from inside."
"Who?"
The guard's eyes rolled toward Mira.
She saw the accusation before he spoke it.
"The surgeon," he whispered.
Silas's gun shifted toward her.
Mira stared at the barrel. "Seriously?"
"Did you open the ward?"
"I was standing beside you."
"That wasn't my question."
"No. I didn't open it."
The guard began to hum. His fingers slipped on the railing.
Silas grabbed Mira by the shoulder and shoved her behind him. "Get to the armory."
"Your guard is infected."
"I can see that."
"Then let me help him."
"No."
The guard's humming rose into a thin, ugly melody. Black lines pulsed under his skin.
Mira stepped around Silas. "He's going to rupture."
Silas caught her around the waist and hauled her back.
Her spine hit his chest. His arm locked across her ribs. The pistol stayed trained on the guard.
"Let go," she snapped.
"Not this time."
"You want him dead?"
"I want you alive."
The words came too fast. Too honest.
Mira went still for one dangerous beat.
Silas's mouth was near her ear. His grip tightened when the guard's song climbed higher.
"Don't make me choose between you and him," he said.
"You already chose. You chose your walls. Your rules. Your clean hands."
"My hands aren't clean."
She felt the words against her skin. "No. They're not."
The guard made a wet choking sound.
Mira drove her heel into Silas's boot.
He cursed and loosened his hold.
She tore free, crossed the stairwell, and slapped the guard's hand away from the railing. He collapsed against her. His body shook hard enough to rattle her teeth.
"Mira!"
"Put the gun down!"
"Move away from him."
"If I move, he breaks."
The guard's song fractured into two notes. Mira shoved her fingers beneath the collar of his coat, searching for the pulse at his throat. It raced under her touch.
"How long?" she demanded.
The guard's lips trembled. "Can't... stop..."
"I know. Keep your mouth closed. Bite down."
Silas stepped closer, gun still in hand. "What are you doing?"
"Buying him thirty seconds."
"You don't have thirty seconds."
"Then shoot me after I save him."
His eyes met hers over the guard's shoulder.
The corridor narrowed around them. Smoke pushed through the cracked door. Soldiers shouted below. Somewhere, metal scraped against metal.
Silas lowered the pistol by one inch.
Mira felt the change and pushed harder. "Nora's ward is open. The children are exposed. You need me there."
"You need to follow orders."
"I need a clean table, a lamp, and someone who isn't going to point a gun at my head."
"You have two of those."
"Which two?"
He looked at her mouth for half a second.
Mira noticed.
His gaze snapped back to her eyes. "The table and the lamp."
"Coward."
"Careful."
"Or what? You'll tighten the leash?"
The contract mark flared before he answered. Mira cried out and dropped to one knee.
Silas's face changed. Not much. Just enough. His pistol lowered completely.
"I didn't trigger it," he said.
"You don't have to. It listens to you."