Chapter 19 · Outside the Pact

The last hourglass began to turn.

Not fall. Not tilt.

Turn.

Its grains climbed instead of dropping, pale gold sparks crawling upward through the glass beneath Eve Calder’s ribs. Each grain struck the narrow neck with a sound like a fingernail tapping on bone.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

The midnight train shuddered around them. Frost webbed across the windows, swallowing the frozen city beyond. Every tower, every suspended carriage, every flock of pigeons trapped in the stolen thirteen minutes had become a black-and-white photograph. Only the train moved, dragging its rusted length toward the old Meridian Exchange Station.

The passengers faced Eve.

Their mouths hung open.

“Eve Calder,” they whispered.

The voices came from the seats, the ceiling, the wheels beneath the floor. Some belonged to children. Some belonged to men who had died decades ago. One voice belonged to Eve herself.

The conductor stood at the end of the carriage, his brass mask reflecting the hourglass light. The mask had no eyes, but Eve felt its attention settle on the mark beneath her left ribs.

“The door remembers,” he said.

Kieran shifted in front of her.

The movement cost him.