Chapter 6 · Trial of the Monster

The bells began before dawn.

One deep note rolled over Riftport, then another, until the whole city trembled beneath the sound. Xia Lan woke with her hand around a knife she did not remember drawing.

Cold sweat glued her shirt to her back. For half a second, she was still inside the black-metal chamber, watching the projection of her own face turn toward an army and say, Phase one can begin.

Then the ceiling of Nolan Vey’s war room snapped into focus.

Stone. Smoke stains. A narrow window filmed with gray morning light.

Her fingers tightened around the knife.

The name beneath the red umbrella was gone.

Not blurred. Not distant. Gone.

She could remember the umbrella’s oil-paper ribs, the rain ticking against its surface, the warmth of a hand held near hers. She could remember the person’s laugh without hearing the voice. But where the name should have been, there was only a clean, white absence.

Another bell sounded.

Nolan shifted in the chair beside the door. He had not slept. His left shoulder was bound in fresh linen, and a strip of blackened skin showed above the collar of his shirt. His sword rested across his knees.