Laila slowly unstoppered the bottle. A tiny wisp of mind Forged perfume wafted into the air. The moment she breathed in, it was as if her consciousness had been yanked elsewhere. When she blinked, she saw a ruined cliffside deep in a jungle where coffins dangled from the canopies of trees and a pit of bones glinted with gold. She blinked again, and the vision faded.

Laila replaced the stopper, her hands shaking as she turned to the others.

“A jungle somewhere,” she said. “Not Poveglia.”

“Ugh, this one’s a grave pit,” said Hypnos, stoppering a bottle.

Enrique set down a different bottle, shaking his head. “This one leads to a castle.”

“A glass door in a tundra,” said Zofia, moving to a different pedestal.

Laila removed another two stoppers, her vision clouding with images of snowy temples with curved peaks and secret alleys hiding in plain sight of bustling cities. But nothing she reached for held any resemblance to Venice’s Plague Island, which made her wonder if it was even here …

Or if—

“Found it.”

Laila turned to see Séverin clutching a perfume stopper. For a moment, his pupils looked blown out with fear. He shook his head, his expression returning to normal, but Laila could tell he’d seen something disturbing.

“You’re certain?” asked Enrique.

Séverin looked away from them, managing a tight nod.

“So do we just take the bottle and go?” asked Hypnos.

Laila studied the room. It hadn’t changed. It was still stiflingly hot. The lights on the floor hadn’t altered, and even when they’d opened and checked every mind Forged perfume bottle, not even the coiled glass at the back wall shifted. Above them, the cold winter moon stared down through the domed sky glass.

Séverin eyed the podium.

“We don’t know what will happen when I remove the bottle, so we must be prepared for the worst-case scenario,” he said. “Zofia. What do we have?”

“Fourteen explosives, six close-range blades, steel rope, and Forged muffling cloth,” said Zofia, before pointing at her robes. “And these are fire-repellent.”

“Wonderful, deadly items which, I’m certain, will not be necessary … yes?” said Hypnos, looking at them. “Yes?”

Séverin grabbed the perfume bottle from the podium, stashing it in the box Ruslan had given him. All remained still and quiet.

“See?” said Hypnos. “Nothing.”

Laila felt a change in the room. There was a slight shimmer to the air, the room crimped with a dredging of heat. A dribbling sound caught her attention. She turned just in time to see the glassy staircase entrance fusing into a wall, eliminating their exit. On the back wall, the undulating coils of glass twisted together, and Laila felt her heart slam into her throat.

They had never been coils.

They were scales.

19

ZOFIA

Zofia did not have room for fear.

Her mind grasped at the scene, breaking it down into parts. The liquid glass oozed from the panel, falling to the floor and gaining shape. Within seconds, the glass fused into a long snout, sharp claws, a thick tail, and a body that towered nearly fifteen meters high. The glass creature swung its head to face them.

“Remember how I asked for a dragon?” said Hypnos. “I take it back.”

Zofia noted the hot fan of its translucent wings, the stripe of scarlet up its belly, the clear teeth the size of her hand, and the lashing tail twisted with blue pigment. She smelled and tasted the molten metal in the air, coppery like blood. She heard the smash of its huge tail against the floor, like the sound of a shattering chandelier.

“Watch out!” shouted Laila.

She grabbed Zofia’s arm, yanking her to the floor just as the glass dragon’s tail whipped out, slamming against the wall. Normally, the force should have shattered the vials, but they stood perfectly intact. At the base of each pedestal, Zofia noticed a dimly glowing metal sphere. She recognized the structures immediately: Gaia Dots. Lightweight, but designed to absorb shock. That was what had to be holding the vials in place.

Just then, the dragon roared, the sound like the bellows of a furnace. Zofia forced her heartbeat to remain steady. Distantly, she registered that they were in trouble, but she knew she was no use to her friends if she could not think.

Her gaze flew to the creature’s taloned feet. They seemed to melt into the marble, allowing it slow but labored movement across the floor. It was not built for speed, but—Zofia glanced at the fused door and the skylight thirty meters above them—it did not need to work quickly.

Meltingly slow, it slid forward, its tail whipping out, its jaws snapping.

“I don’t know how to defeat a dragon!” said Hypnos.

“It isn’t a dragon,” said Zofia. “It’s glass.”

The glass dragon slid one step closer. Its tail spun out, but Zofia noticed that it never arced upwards; its Forging mechanism was careful not to disturb the skylight. The room’s cloying heat pressed against her robes. Séverin had called the heat intentional … a preference. An idea snapped through her thoughts.

“We need to stress the dragon,” she said.

Hypnos frowned. “I’m not sure now is the time to tell it about my existential woes—”

“Glass experiences thermal shock when the temperature rapidly changes between two surfaces,” said Zofia.

“Hot glass doesn’t like cold air,” said Séverin. “We need to introduce some cold into the room.”

“But the door is melted shut!” said Enrique.

Zofia glanced up. “The skylight isn’t.”

“We can’t reach that!” said Hypnos.

“Yes, we can,” said Laila. She ripped open her robes, reaching for the Forged steel Zofia had concealed in her bodice.

“The skylight will need significant mass to break,” she said, casting about the room for something to attach to the rope.

There was nothing around them but delicate perfume bottles.

The dragon moved closer, molten heat rippling from its body. The flowing glass surrounded four pedestals, two on each side.

“We need to move!” said Enrique, standing.

Séverin stayed where he was, pointing above them. “This is the best place to access the skylight—”

“Séverin,” said Laila, her voice full of warning.

“Buy me some time,” said Séverin.

“Take your robes off,” said Zofia, ripping off the heavy cloth.

“Normally I love that suggestion,” said Hypnos. “But—”

Zofia reached forward, grabbing at his sleeves and tearing. “The robes are Forged to inhibit heat. We can use it as a barrier against the hot glass.”

Hypnos shrugged out of his robes, tossing it to Zofia. The liquid glass pooled around the edges of the cloak. It wouldn’t last more than three minutes, but it was something.

“We need something to throw against the skylight!” said Séverin, casting about.

Zofia pointed at the metal spheres at the base of the pedestals. Séverin followed the line of her finger and grinned.

“Gaia Dots,” he said. “Phoenix, that’s brilliant! They should’ve absorbed plenty of shock by now—”