It only took a few minutes for the uzhas to travel through the twenty-inch thick stone wall, but to Elana, it felt closer to a year. The tormenting itch crawled around inside her skull, tearing at her nerves and setting her teeth on edge.

  I’m out.

  Elana opened her mouth to respond, then pursed her lips, could she talk telepathically to the uzhas? One would assume if it could, she could.

  Can you hear me? she thought.

  Of course.

  Huh. Well, this is easier.

  She caught a mental sigh from the uzhas.

  Indeed, it said, and we wouldn’t even need to “talk” if you would open your mind.

  Elana glared at the door, wishing she could see the uzhas. When we’re free, all right?

  The itch moved across her forehead and she gritted her teeth.

  I’m going to the table of uzhasgart, I’ll use that to distract the guards.

  Though she couldn’t see into the vault, Elana instinctively looked towards the table. The itch slid to the forefront of her skull. She frowned. Am I looking at you?

  Yes.

  Elana spun on her heel, and the itch rolled around to the back of her skull. “Huh…” she said. Handy, but why an itch? Why not a gentle massage? She blew out a sigh.

  A muffled scream echoed through the vault and a moment later something heavy and metallic smashed into the wall near Elana’s chamber. Dust rained on her and she brushed it off and pulled her hood up. Tell me when the guards leave.

  One has left, two remain.

  The crashes and screams continued. Unable to resist, Elana hurried to the tiny window in the door and peered out. Just in time to see an uzhasgart steam engine sail through the air towards her. Elana squeaked and recoiled. The barrel hit the door with a deafening clang, causing more dust to cascade from the ceiling.

  The guards have left their post, and the vault door is open so they can evacuate, the uzhas said. Leave now.

  Ears ringing, Elana yanked the first lever in the control panel. With a roar, air rushed from the chamber. Elana shunted the lever back, and the roar quieted. “Don’t purge the chamber, idiot,” she muttered as she tried the next lever. The door rolled open.

  The cries of terror and crash of metal pressed in on her as she emerged from the chamber. Guards converged on the barrel of a harpoon cannon currently being wielded by a giant, invisible arm. When she squinted, she just made out the hazy outline of the uzhas. It had taken the form of a fifteen-foot tall humanoid figure.

  Stop staring and go! the uzhas said.

  Elana started, then sprinted to the press of Alchemists and sculptors crowding at the vault’s one exit. The guards ushered them through the heavy door, ignoring the people as they watched the destruction the uzhas wreaked. Elana joined the crowd and kept her head down.

  Blood thundered in her ears, muting the whimpers of those around her. Would the guards recognise her? She didn’t dare look to see if any watched.

  Another few yards until freedom.

  “Keep moving!” a guard yelled above the chaos.

  A guard grabbed her shoulder, and her stomach lurched. This was it…

  The guard gave her a shove, sending her staggering into the back of the Alchemist ahead of her. The man glared over his shoulder at her, and she mumbled an apology as she pushed past him through the vault door and into the bright corridor.

  I’m clear, she said. Get out of there.

  I’ll escape through the wall when you’re free.

  The stamp of heavy boots rolled down the corridor ahead of her, and a dozen soldiers in black, ankle-length coats jogged around a corner. Alchemists and sculptors leapt aside, pressing themselves against the walls as the hooded and masked men swept past, their loaded crossbows jammed against their shoulders.

  Elana’s eyes bugged, and she darted clear as the squad from Voronin’s dead-faced private army charged towards the vault. She needed to get out of here. If Voronin’s army had arrived, where was their commander, Chernov? Or Sofia?

  While Elana missed being able to see the minds of people around her, at least Sofia couldn’t see her as a giant, glowing blue shape in her mind’s eye.

  The soldiers entered the vault and the heavy steel door boomed shut behind them.

  Elana spotted a stairwell ten yards down the corridor and hurried to it, head bowed, her hood concealing her face.

  The blue mind is approaching you, the uzhas said.

  Hearts racing, Elana reached the stairwell and darted in.

  Seconds later, Chernov and Sofia hurried by. At seven feet tall, Chernov towered over Sofia. His broad shoulders strained against his black coat, and every move spoke of control and precision. A sour frown scarred his square face below a thick moustache.

  I am leaving now, the uzhas said. The soldiers have turned the vault’s heating off, it’s cooling fast in here.

  Good. I’ll be in my lab grabbing equipment so we can escape. A stab of guilt cut through her gut. And leave Mikhail? She pushed the guilt down.

  “Escape first,” Elana murmured, hurrying up the stairs.

  Huh, the uzhas said, sounding baffled. The vault has dropped below freezing.

  So? Elana asked.

  I can still… function. I am not dormant.

  Good for you. How long until you’re out?

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  The walls are thick. A few minutes.

  Elana nodded and exited the stairwell into the nearly empty fourth floor. A pair of Alchemists in quiet conversation hurried past her as she jogged to the block of labs at the front of the Guild. She rounded a corner, not long till her lab.

  Suddenly, searing pain lanced through her skull and she let out a cry as she staggered into the wall. Through blurry eyes, she saw a short, rotund Alchemist turn and hurry to her.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, worry etched on his bespectacled and bearded face.

  Help… the pained and weak voice of the uzhas said.

  Elana blinked back tears. “Need… help…”

  “Ah, yes. Yes of course. I’ll take you to the surgery.” The Alchemist draped Elana’s arm over his shoulder, supporting her weight as he led her back the way she’d come. The stench of acid and smoke rose from his tattered Alchemist coat, causing her eyes to water all the more.

  With every step, the pain faded until it remained as only the ghost of a memory.

  Elana’s breathing steadied, and she wiped the tears from her eyes.

  “Thank you,” she said to the Alchemist.

  “Oh, think nothing of it,” he said. “I’m Dominik Pozharsky, by the way.”

  “Elana Koskova,” Elana replied. To the uzhas, she said, Did they attack you?

  No, my location is unknown to the soldiers. Sofia can see me, but she’s remained silent.

  Elana frowned. Why the depths hadn’t Sofia told anyone? What game was she playing? Then what happened?

  How on Vlanovia should I know? We have never bonded like this with a human.

  All right, calm down. Elana stopped walking and Dominik stumbled.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I need to go back,” she said, untangling herself from Dominik and jogging back down the corridor. Elana approached the spot where the pain had started and hesitated, chewing her lower lip a moment before she stepped forwards.

  Nothing.

  She took another step.

  Still nothing.

  She took a third step, and white-hot claws of pure agony lacerated her mind. Elana moaned and willed her legs to respond and take her back. The pain faded. I think I worked it out, she said.

  We’re tethered by distance.

  “Exactly.”

  “Exactly what?” Dominik asked.

  Elana cursed and spun. The dishevelled Alchemist watched her, his forehead creased in a frown. Before Elana had the chance to respond, dread washed over her from the uzhas.

  Did they find you? Elana asked, her eyes widening.

  “What’s going on?” Dominik asked.

  Elana waved him quiet.

  The vault is steel-lined, I’m stuck in here.

  You’re stuck…

  That is what I said.

  So I’m stuck here, too. Elana drew a shaky breath. “It’s all right. I’m all right,” she muttered.

  For a moment she almost convinced herself. Then her stomach plummeted, and she started hyperventilating. She clutched her head and doubled over. Too much. Too much! This evening had descended into a hellish ordeal that put Night of the Lost to shame.

  “Koskova,” Dominik said, his tone softening, “let me help you to the surgery. I know what it’s like to deal with bad extracts—that’s why I only design alchemtek now. Did you take the extract within the last five hours?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Excellent. Then your body should return to its natural state!” He took her by the arm, guiding her to the surgery, all the while offering gentle words of consolation.

  Elana let Dominik lead her. This was far more than a bad extract… but what about her family? She should take the healing extract, find Mikhail before he returned from his training, and flee to her parents in South Serovnya.

  Elana, you can’t. Our lives are intertwined and stronger for this bond.

  Perhaps your life is stronger, Elana said, but you ruined mine.

  Taking that extract will kill me.

  You don’t know that.

  I do. How do you think severing works? the uzhas asked.

  Sofia said it had to do with a sculptor forcefully withdrawing consciousness from uzhas.

  Yes. I’ll die and become uzhasgart because your consciousness will depart.

  But what about your consciousness? I’m not withdrawing that.

  The uzhas hesitated, then said, Our consciousness is one. If you withdraw, you sever from me, and I’ll die.

  Elana gnawed at her lip as a memory of Mikhail sitting in his compact lab, head buried in research, played in her mind. So long as she remained connected to the uzhas, she was stuck here, and the Guild would use her. Given what she’d learnt of Chernov today, they’d also use Mikhail to get her to do their bidding. Maybe if she got word to Sergei he’d help?

  No, Sergei wouldn’t risk the Sentinels or Warrior Guild by interfering with Alchemists. The safety of Serovnya was paramount to him, and she respected that. Even if it stung to be second place to a job…

  The only way she could keep Mikhail safe now was by taking the healing extract and finding him herself.

  They reached the surgery and Dominik opened the door and ushered her in. The stark white room reeked of disinfectant. Two rows of beds ran down the length of the surgery, some divided by curtains. Several Alchemists wearing azure coats with white, star-shaped patches on their left arms wandered from bed to bed, checking on the dozen resting patients.

  Dominik led Elana to an empty bed, and she sat. An Alchemist nurse hurried over and Dominik said, “One phial of healing please, she’s suffering from a faulty extract.”

  I’ll show him faulty extracts… the uzhas said.

  “Am I making the right choice?” Elana asked, softly.

  “Of course. Whatever you took is clearly causing you a great deal of pain. If you can reverse it, that’s always the right decision—well, usually the right decision. Sometimes you lose decades of research and set your life back in irreparable ways.” Dominik glanced at Elana and coughed. “Though that’s, ah, probably not your case… I’m curious though, what did you take?”

  Elana stared sidelong at him. His thick, salt-and-pepper beard masked most of his face, but what remained uncovered—and wasn’t streaked with grease and soot—was open and honest. “It’s a crazy story.”

  “Do I look like I’d disbelieve a crazy story?”

  A chuckle escaped Elana’s lips. “For two years I’ve been working on a telepathy extract. Today I succeeded.”

  “You have a strange definition of success. For me, success rarely includes writhing on the floor in agony.”

  “My husband always said I had an odd way of gauging victories. Nevertheless, I managed a connection with another being.”

  “By ‘being’ I’m going to assume human?”

  “Nope.”

  Dominik scratched his beard and soot showered to the bed. At least, Elana hoped it was soot, not dandruff.

  “Do I want to ask what you connected with?” he asked.

  “You really don’t.”

  Dominik appeared to consider this. “So the extract connects you to… this being?”

  Elana scowled. “Apparently so.”

  “Is it… is it listening to us now?”

  “Are you listening?”

  Of course I’m listening to you as you talk about killing me!

  “Yup. It’s there,” Elana said. “It’s trapped and wants me to save it.”

  The Alchemist nurse returned carrying a phial. She handed it to Dominik, smiled, then left.

  “So what are you going to do?” Dominik asked, holding the phial towards her in his open hand.

  Elana stared at the smooth uzhasgart cylinder and chewed her lip. Mikhail was resourceful, and far from defenceless. But he was her son.

  Finally, her shoulders slumped. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Elana said. She pushed Dominik’s hand away.

  Thank you, the uzhas said, relief clear in its voice.

  A smile twitched Dominik’s lips, and he pocketed the extract. “Are you going to rescue whatever it is?”

  “I suppose I have to now.”

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