Prague's Clock Tower stabbed the stormy sky. Rain lashed the stone angels as Élise and Lucien sprinted across Old Town Square. Fifty-three minutes left. Clémence's drowning face burned behind Élise's eyes.
Václav's voice boomed from the tower's speakers: "Elevators are for cowards! Take the stairs. Or watch little sister gasp." A hologram flickered: Water now covered Clémence's nose. Her eyes rolled in terror.
The spiral staircase was a throat of shadows. Gears big as houses groaned around them. Lucien's shoulder bled through his coat—Viktor's bite oozing black. "The poison's spreading," Élise whispered. "I've had worse," he lied. His pupils flickered silver. Vampiretransformation.
Halfway up, the stairs moved. Stone steps folded like playing cards, forcing them onto a narrow ledge. Below: a 200-foot drop onto spinning clockwork. "Test One," Václav announced. "Balance!" Mechanical ravens dive-bombed them. Beaks like scissors.
Lucien shoved Élise flat. A raven slashed his cheek. Black blood welled.Vampire blood. Élise grabbed a raven. Its metal body burned her palms. She focused her fever-hot magic— Scent Memory:Viktor's rotting roses. The raven shrieked. Fell. Crushed on gears below. "Your power's back," Lucien breathed. "But it's… hungry," Élise gasped. The magic had tasted the raven's malice. Wanted more.
They reached a bridge of razor-thin copper wires. "Test Two: Precision!" Water now covered Clémence's entire face in the hologram. Bubbles escaped her lips. Fortyminutes.
Lucien went first. Agony tightened his face with every step. Halfway across, wires snapped. He fell— Élise lunged. Grabbed his wrist. Scars on her hands blazed crimson. Scent Memory: Lucien's antiseptic and iron smell. His heartbeat under her ear in Paris. The wires stabilized. "Don't let go," she begged. "Never," he promised.
At the top, a vault door blocked their path. No handle. Just a keyhole shaped like a rose. "Final Test: Sacrifice!" Václav crowed. "Blood opens all doors." The hologram flickered. Piranhas swirled in Clémence's tank. Twentyminutes.
Lucien drew his surgical blade. "My blood. I'm already poisoned—" Élise seized his hand. "No." She pressed her glowing palm to the keyhole. "It wants magic." She pushed her corrupted power—the scent of graves and rage—into the lock. The door shrieked open… …revealing Clémence's tank in the center of the room. Václav waited beside it, golden hand holding a piranha lever.