Chapter 9 · The Heir Who Died Once

"Elias is dead."

Kellan said it like he was reminding me to lock the door.

I kept my gun on the memory drones. Their stolen faces clicked and shifted above us—a little girl, an old man, someone with half a jaw. One looked exactly like me for three seconds, then melted into a stranger with silver teeth.

Every drone had turned toward Kellan.

Tavi tightened his arm around my brother's chest. "Cool. Great. Love that. Does anyone else hear the part where we're about to get murdered?"

"Shut up," I said.

"I'm trying. The collar damage makes silence painful."

Kellan's knees buckled. Tavi hauled him back before he hit the floor. Memory fluid dripped from Kellan's hair and ran down his neck. Burnt sugar and old batteries.

I didn't look at Elias.

That was the problem. I wanted to.

I wanted to see if he had the same stupid calm face he wore when lying. I wanted him to say Kellan was confused. I wanted him to say anything that would let me keep pretending the man in front of me was real.

The archive ceiling groaned.

A crack split the black glass above us. White light leaked through.