Hypnos had finally contacted them, thus ending the Order’s chase and exonerating the crew from what happened at the Winter Conclave a week ago … but now the Order wished to interview them about the death of Ruslan and the Fallen House. They had agreed to come up with a cover story to avoid mentioning the temple beneath Poveglia and what took place there. But truthfully, Zofia wasn’t even sure what she saw. When she tried to concentrate on those minutes, all she could recall was a feeling of calm.

Alone with Enrique for the first time in days, Zofia’s feelings felt sharpened. More acute. She remembered their kiss … the way he had held her hand when the siren-skeletons tried to lure her into the lake … how they had fought the darkness with matching flames.

Zofia wanted to tell him something, but what? That she enjoyed being next to him? That she wanted to kiss him again? What would that even mean? When she looked up at Enrique, she saw that he was staring at the ring on her finger.

“Do you believe what Séverin said?” he asked quietly. “About Laila? That she’s truly well and safe … wherever she is?”

“Yes,” said Zofia without hesitation.

“Why?” he asked.

Zofia opened her mouth, then closed it. There was no science behind her answer. And yet she had dreamed of Laila often in the days since they’d left Poveglia. In her dreams, her friend sat beside her and told her all would be well, that there was nothing to be scared of. Zofia could neither quantify where her certainty came from nor locate its source beyond the flimsy substance of dreams. And so the only words that came to her were not her own, but Enrique’s, the same words he’d so often used to taunt her.

“Call it a gut feeling,” she said.

A wide smile broke across his face. He looked out the window and his smile faded a bit.

“I know it’s ridiculous, but sometimes I … I dream of her. I hear her telling me that all will be well,” he said.

Zofia’s eyes widened. “You dream of her too?”

Enrique looked back at her. His eyebrows went up. Zofia recognized his expression as disbelief.

“That can’t be coincidence,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand…”

Zofia did not know what to say. Enrique was right. He would never understand, and neither would she.

“Now what do we do?” he asked, looking at her.

A pause stretched between them. The train rumbled along the tracks. Rain smeared the glass windows.

Zofia had imagined that the world would come to a complete halt inside the temple, and yet it continued, gathering speed and momentum despite the changes. Science quietly asserted itself into the chaos. An object in motion would stay in motion unless acted upon by a new force. Zofia wondered if that applied to her feelings for Enrique. Perhaps it would always stay like this—silent and the same—unless she acted upon it. In the past, she would have said nothing. She feared rejection. She feared believing that she was acting outside of what was conventional.

But now, she found she no longer cared.

Zofia took a deep breath. In her mind’s eye, she pictured Laila smiling encouragingly, and it gave her the strength to speak.

“I like you, Enrique. A lot.”

Zofia studied his face. The look of disbelief shifted. A corner of his mouth tugged up. His eyes crinkled.

It was joy.

“I like you too, Zofia,” he said, before adding: “A lot.”

“Oh,” said Zofia. “Good.”

She had not planned for what to say after that. Her face felt warm. Her hands felt tingly.

“May I … hold your hand?” he asked.

Zofia tugged her hands farther into her lap. “I don’t like hand holding.”

Enrique was quiet. He made a “hmm” sound, and Zofia wondered if she had upset him, if he would go or—

“Tell me what you do like,” he said.

“I … I would like you to sit closer to me.”

He moved and sat beside her. Their shoulders touched. His leg brushed against her skirt. Zofia looked at him. She wanted to kiss him again. She wondered if she should ask first, or simply press her face to his, but then she remembered that if he was taking the time to ask what she liked, she should reciprocate.

“Do you like this?” she asked.

He smiled. “Yes.”

“Now what do we do?” asked Zofia.

Enrique laughed. “I imagine we’ll figure it out day by day.”

Zofia liked that.

They had just settled into a comfortable silence when the compartment door opened once more, and Hypnos poked his head inside.

“I’m lonely,” he announced. “I am joining you.”

Enrique rolled his eyes. “What if I told you that you were interrupting?”

“Please mon cher, I never interrupt. I only complement or enhance, and in any case, it is not your permission I seek, it is our Phoenix’s.”

“I like when you’re here,” said Zofia.

Hypnos made her laugh. When the three of them were together, Zofia felt as if she were on steadier ground.

“You see?” said Hypnos, sticking his tongue out at Enrique before flopping onto the seat opposite them. Like Enrique’s, Zofia noticed that Hypnos’s gaze caught on her garnet ring.

“You know,” he said quietly. “I dream of her.”

Enrique looked at Zofia and then Hypnos. “We do too.”

Hypnos laughed a little, his eyes shining with tears. “I don’t know what I’ll do when I return … the Order is a mess. I have no desire to be part of it any longer.”

“Then don’t be,” said Zofia.

It seemed simple enough to her, but Hypnos only smiled.

“And do what with my life, ma chère?” he asked. “My lifestyle would hardly be considered economical, and while I enjoy a good languish, I would get bored without an occupation.”

“The Order of Babel still has their treasure … whether or not they’re Forged, they’re still powerful,” said Enrique, before adding, “and they never belonged to the Order in the first place. I am sure there would be work in returning such objects to their rightful owners and countries.”

Hypnos tilted his head. He looked pensive.

“Hm,” said Hypnos, regarding Enrique. “You know you’re far more than a pretty face. You’re rather clever too.”

“I’m glad you noticed,” said Enrique in a flat tone.

“Oh, I notice plenty,” said Hypnos, smiling as he looked from Enrique to Zofia.

The train lurched forward, and Hypnos turned to look at the partially opened compartment door. Zofia wondered where Séverin was.

He had barely spoken to them since they’d left Poveglia. In some ways, it reminded her of how he had acted after Tristan’s death. But this time, even in his silence, Séverin had made arrangements for them instead of disappearing. He had even reassured Enrique and Zofia that no matter what awaited them in Paris, they would always have a home and work in L’Eden.

“Has anyone seen him since we boarded?” asked Hypnos.

Zofia shook her head. As far as she knew, Séverin had made sure they knew where their seats were and then taken off to walk the compartments alone.