The more Séverin looked at the paralyzed members of the Order, the more the details struck him. For one, they were too organized. Every single person had been arranged so that not one had their face toward the ground. It could have appeared merciful, a pose that allowed them to breathe … but Séverin had long practiced reading rooms full of treasure. This was personal. Whoever had done this to them had arranged them so they could see one another, so their own horror would be reflected back infinitely.

Someone wanted to make sure that everyone knew who had put them in their place. He needed to find out exactly who that person was, what they’d done with the others … and why they had chosen to spare him. The location of his suite was no secret. Clearly, he was meant to see this. He just didn’t know why.

The atrium now held a gruesome beauty to it. Silver confetti still spangled the air. The champagne chandeliers drifted aimlessly, frost creeping over their stems. Down the hall leading to the ice grotto, Séverin spied a heat net composed of slender, crisscrossing patterns in glowing red that stretched from the floor to the ceiling. It blocked Forged objects, but not humans. If the others were taken, they could’ve been dragged through the net easily.

To his right, he heard the creaking sound of a door. Séverin took quick stock of his position in the wide atrium. The sound was coming from the library, the place where he had last seen Enrique.

A low growl emanated from the podium. Séverin snapped his head to the stage where the Midnight Auction was supposed to have taken place, but judging from the confetti and untouched champagne, they had never made it that far before the attack.

From between the rows of paralyzed Order members slithered out crystalline snakes. A transparent jaguar prowled out from behind a grand piano. Several birds of prey broke off from the moonstone chandelier, their crystal wings chiming loudly. All around him, the crouched silhouettes of animals started to stir. Ice animals, the same ones that had been hauled out of the menagerie, their internal mechanisms changed to turn them into docile, sentient tables.

The ice jaguar’s tail switched, its jaws lengthening.

They weren’t docile anymore.

Another banging sound came from the library door. As if someone was trying to get out. Séverin weighed the chances of death by the ice animals or death by whoever hid in the library … and then he took off down the hall.

Behind him, the heavy paws of the ice animals crunched against the glass floor. Séverin skidded to a stop near the front of the library entrance. Chairs barricaded the doors, and a table bearing vases of frozen lilies blocked him. Séverin pushed them aside, then lifted the chain holding the doors in place. When he jammed the handle, it was stuck fast … but from the other side.

“Who’s there?” came a voice from within.

Enrique. Séverin could have fallen to the floor in relief.

“It’s me, Séverin,” he said. “You need to open up, there’s—”

“Séverin,” spat Enrique. “Where are the others? What did you do with them?”

“Why would I do anything with them?”

“You’re clearly intent on destroying anything around you, so where are they?”

Behind Séverin came a low growl and the sharp scritch of ice on ice. He risked a glance over this shoulder and saw an ice bear snuffling the ground. Séverin held still. The animals were drawn to heat and movement … it wouldn’t move unless he did.

“Enrique—” said Séverin.

“You didn’t think I’d find out about the letters you sent to the Ilustrados?” demanded Enrique. “How you cancelled the meeting and destroyed my dreams?”

Séverin froze, but only for an instant. Yes, he sent out a letter to every member of the Ilustrados. Yes, he had enclosed a check with each letter, so they would not attend. He didn’t care if it looked like sabotage. He didn’t even care if Enrique hated him for it. All he had done was try to protect him.

Enrique cracked open the door and stepped outside. “So unless you can explain why I should trust—”

The door swinging open caught the bear’s attention. It roared, pounding the floor as it charged toward them. Séverin snatched the vase of frozen lilies, smashing it over the bear’s head. A quarter of its face cracked off, splintering to the ground. Enrique screamed, and Séverin pulled him away from the wall right when the animal charged again.

“I’ll distract, you run inside, and then we slam the door,” said Séverin. “Understand?”

Before Enrique had a chance to answer, Séverin grabbed the white lilies from the ground, waving them off to the side. The creature looked between Enrique and the flowers. Séverin’s hand lent the bouquet an illusion of heat. The bear leapt, springing for the flowers—

Séverin tossed them in its face, then grabbed Enrique, pushing them both into the library. Too late, the creature registered the falsehood. It charged at the library, but Séverin got to the door first, slamming it hard enough that delicate shingles of ice crashed onto the marble. The bear snarled and snorted, scrabbling at the door of the library.

“What the hell just happened?” gasped Enrique. “They’re not supposed to act like that.”

“Someone must have returned them to their original settings,” said Séverin.

He glanced behind Enrique. The tables full of treasure looked just as they had left them.

“I still hate you,” said Enrique raggedly.

“Not an uncommon sentiment today.”

“You sent out notes to every member of the Ilustrados making sure they wouldn’t come to my meeting? Do you deny it?”

“No,” said Séverin. “We need to find the others. You can berate me later.”

“I might kill you later, forget berating—”

“Shhh,” said Séverin. He pressed his ear to the door and peered through the keyhole.

“Good. The ice creature left,” said Séverin. “Tell me what happened. Where are the others?”

Enrique stared at him, still breathing hard, his face contorted in something between fury and worry. Finally, Enrique let out a sigh, and Séverin sensed that for now … he would put aside his hurt.

“I was knocked out,” he said, rubbing his temples. “The last thing I remember is Ruslan saying he would deliver the lyre to the matriarch. There must have been something in our drink that was meant to knock us out, but Ruslan didn’t take his goblet. He could be dead. And Zofia…” Enrique swallowed hard. “Zofia had left to examine a part of the ice grotto, but she never came back. I have no clue where Laila was last night.”

Séverin opened his mouth, closed it, then rethought his words. “She was accounted for up until a few hours ago.”

“Where was she?”

“In bed,” said Séverin curtly.

“How do you know?” demanded Enrique.

“Because I was there,” said Séverin, adding quickly, “What about Hypnos?”

“I haven’t seen Hypnos since last evening and—wait a minute, what did you just say?”

“I didn’t see him out there with the others,” said Séverin.