Chapter 13 · The Third Name

The third knock came from the other side of the iron door.

Eve Calder did not breathe.

The underground clock room shuddered around them. Brass pipes rattled in their brackets. Somewhere beyond the walls, a gear the size of a carriage turned with a deep, grinding cough, dragging the stolen minutes of Nacre City through the Assembly’s machinery.

Kieran stood between Eve and the door.

Or what remained of him did.

His shoulders were bowed beneath the blood-dark coat. One hand hung uselessly at his side, fingers slick and trembling. The other was raised toward the iron, palm open, as if he could feel the presence waiting beyond it. His eyes had gone black from edge to edge. No iris. No white. Only two polished wells swallowing the lantern light.

“Kieran,” Eve whispered.

His head tilted.

The movement was almost familiar. That was the worst part. It carried the same restrained patience he had shown when she lied to him, when he had waited for her to finish picking a lock, when he had stood in the rain outside her rented room and pretended not to be guarding the door.

But the smile that touched his mouth belonged to someone