Elana lounged on her bed, a bottle of vloysh she’d distilled in a rare moment of spare time in hand as she stared at the gas heater. She took a sip, enjoying the burn as it slid down her throat. After two years of working on that cursed telepathy extract, she was finally finished. Elana eyed the journal sitting on her workbench, no doubt Voronin would demand she decode it and give them the formula. Maybe she should use it to bargain?

  A soft knock startled Elana from her thoughts. Outside the door, a single grey mind floated.

  “Come in,” she said, capping the bottle and stuffing it under her pillow before standing.

  Sofia stepped in, her hood up and casting a shadow over her face and half-mask. Before Elana could ask why she was wearing a half-mask indoors, Sofia pulled the hood back and took the mask off.

  Elana gasped.

  Blood stained Sofia’s face from a gash on her left cheekbone, and an ugly purple bruise sealed her left eye shut.

  The dainty sculptor shut the door with a soft click and faced Elana.

  Elana stood, frozen in shock. Then she lurched into action. “I have a healing extract around here somewhere—”

  “No!”

  Elana paused mid-step. “What?”

  “He’ll know if I take healing extract.”

  “Who will know? Who did this to you?”

  Sofia hung her head.

  “Sofia, who did this?”

  “Chernov Commander,” Sofia mumbled.

  Trepidation tightened Elana’s throat. “What were you doing around Voronin’s soldiers?” she asked.

  “Nothing out of choice,” Sofia said shaking her head slowly. “The Grand Master and Voronin are gone today. Voronin left Chernov in charge of the sculptors and the telepathy extract.”

  “But why the depths would Chernov hit you?”

  “I dared to report the extract wasn’t fully tested.”

  “He beat you for that?” Elana asked, incredulous. “Oh, I should have just finished testing it. I didn’t mean to get you hurt.”

  “Well you did get me hurt.”

  Elana’s cheeks burned. “What’ll you do now?”

  “You haven’t given me much choice. Seeing as you refuse to finish the extract, I’ll have to.”

  “Excuse me?” A frown creased Elana’s forehead.

  “You heard me, I’m going to finish the cursed extract. Now where is it?”

  Stunned, Elana pointed to the three phials in the rack on her workbench. What the depths had Chernov done to her? Sofia had never volunteered to actually help with the extract.

  Sofia retrieved a phial and unscrewed the cap.

  “Wait,” Elana said.

  Sofia paused, phial halfway to her mouth, and looked at her with lifeless eyes.

  Elana chewed her lip a moment. “May the Sovereign Sculptor protect you,” she said weakly.

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  “He abandoned us centuries ago.” Sofia tipped the extract back.

  Elana winced as Sofia clutched her head, tears streaming down her face—though no screams, no writhing in pain. Elana couldn’t help but admire the woman. As she watched, Sofia’s mind changed from dull grey to glowing cobalt and Sofia drew a long, slow breath. She let it out and opened her eyes.

  “So this is what you see,” she said.

  Elana nodded.

  Sofia replaced her hood and half-mask, grimacing as the stiff leather touched her damaged cheek. Once secure, she walked to the door.

  As the door swung shut behind Sofia, Elana sank onto the bed. Shoulders slumping, she retrieved the bottle from beneath her pillow and uncapped it. Sofia was far more qualified to do further tests with the uzhas. The Alchemist Guild had invested five years training Sofia so she could sculpt, and Sofia had spent two years watching her craft the telepathy extract.

  “You’re not convincing anyone,” Elana muttered, “least of all yourself.” Reluctantly, she screwed the cap back on the bottle.

  Sofia was already out of sight by the time Elana stomped into the corridor, but her glowing blue mind was clearly visible, descending a stairwell.

  Elana shouldered past several Alchemists before ducking into the stairwell and hurrying down. She entered another corridor and spotted Sofia through the crowd. Elana broke into a jog and caught up with her. “Hey,” she said, tapping Sofia on the shoulder.

  Sofia spun, eyes wide. She relaxed when she saw Elana.

  “I’ll do it,” Elana said, between laboured breaths.

  “You’ll what?”

  “Sofia, you’re badly injured, I can’t let you test the extract. There’s no telling what it’ll do to you in this state.”

  Sofia let out a bitter laugh. “Nothing worse than what’s already happened.”

  Elana flinched but pressed on, “Nevertheless, I won't let you test it.”

  “Now you want to test it? You only had to wait until someone you knew got hurt before you would?”

  “Sorry,” Elana mumbled.

  Sofia glowered at her a moment. “Fine. Test it if it makes you happy.” She spun and stalked towards the vault.

  Why the depths am I helping her? Elana mused as she followed Sofia. She could have just left the whole thing alone, let someone else handle it. Because you just can’t let people suffer when you think you can do something…

  They reached the vaults, and the guards recognised them and opened the door.

  Minutes later, Elana once again stood alone in an empty chamber.

  “There’s sculpting extract on the back wall,” Sofia said. “That should help you connect with the uzhas.”

  With trembling hands, Elana plucked an extract from the rack. Come on, sculptors do this every day. There’s nothing to worry about. She unscrewed the cap and downed the extract. It had none of the bitterness of the telepathy extract, indeed, she could almost describe it as pleasant.

  The door slid shut behind her and a familiar gurgle came from the vent by her feet.

  Uzhas oozed into the chamber and slowly turned cobalt as it reverted to gas.

  Pressure built in Elana’s head as she gazed at the uzhas. It reached her thighs, and the gurgling stopped. Elana wiped her palms on her coat, leaving damp patches on the thick leather. She focused on the uzhas as it twitched and swirled around her, then, she sent the tendril from her mind towards it.

  Uzhas and tendril connected.

  Pain ripped through her head like a crowbar prying her skull apart. Elana opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

  “Don’t fight,” Sofia’s faint voice came through the door, “relax.”

  Elana clutched her head and squeezed. Relax? Really? That was the best advice she had?

  The uzhas pressed in on her, probing her skin and seeping into her pores. Elana tried to breathe but her lungs filled with the gas. Coughs wracked her body. She tipped forwards, landing on her hands and knees, gasping for air but only finding uzhas. Tears blurred her eyes, and she whimpered as her muscles spasmed.

  “Relax…”

  With her last ounce of willpower, Elana forced her body to relax.

  The torment ceased.

  She could feel the uzhas moving around her—through her—but it no longer hurt. A flash of blue caught her eye, and she looked down. Her entire body now glowed cobalt!

  You are different… a familiar flat, genderless voice said.

  “Sofia? Was that you?” Elana asked, panic rising.

  “What did you say?” Sofia asked, muffled. “Elana, are you all right?”

  Who are you? the familiar voice asked.

  “Who are you?” Elana shot back.

  I am… uzhas. As you call us.

  Elana tried to swallow, but couldn’t. “You’re alive…” she said, her voice a hoarse croak.

  Yes.

  Elana threw up.

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