Klara removed her half-mask as Ruslan released Pavel. Brother. They’d never said Pavel was related. The two looked nothing alike. While Pavel was lanky and narrow-faced, Ruslan Adamov nearly matched Yeger for bulk—though his face was far better sculpted. A lightly stubbled strong jaw, swept back black hair streaked with silver on the sides, and piercing grey eyes. He wore no coat, only a grey roll-neck shirt with the sleeves scrunched up to his elbows, the wool straining against his thick forearms.

  Ruslan cast a critical eye over the group Pavel had brought with him. His eyes lingered on Klara’s face a moment before moving on. “Who are your friends, Pavel?” Adamov asked. His voice reminded Klara of the avalanches that happened during her days spent training in the foothills. Every few days, one would cascade down a distant mountain, filling the air with a deep rumble that vibrated in her stomach.

  “Mikhail and Klara Koskov,” Pavel said, “the Captain’s nephew and niece. And Matvei Demidov.”

  “I assume you want something,” Adamov said, “so let us go talk.” He wove through the bedrolls and guildless, disappearing into a back room.

  Klara and the others hurried to follow. She found herself in a small storeroom lit by a single gaslamp. No heater burned in this room, leaving it noticeably cooler than the last. Though Adamov didn’t seem phased as he leaned against a stack of boxes, his arms folded across his chest. “Talk.”

  “Well,” Pavel began.

  “No.” Adamov shook his head. “They talk.”

  Mikhail and Matvei both looked at Klara. How nice. She took a deep breath. “Uncle Yuri sent us to find you because he said you could help us…”

  Adamov said nothing, just watched her, his face blank.

  “All right then,” Klara said, continuing. “Voronin Master convinced the new Grand Master—”

  “Voronin is the new Grand Master,” Adamov said, cutting Klara off. “The old one died very mysteriously last week with a knife through the throat. But do continue.”

  Klara stood a moment, her mouth open. Voronin and his mucker of a daughter were in charge of the Alchemists now? Was that bad? She glanced at Mikhail, his face was whiter than snow. Yeah. It’s bad. “Okay…” she said, taking a deep breath. “So Voronin has decided that the Sentinels should no longer guard the gates and have declared war on them. The other day they murdered everyone at Ledavsk using some new weapons they’ve developed. It’s only time before they strike Katavsk and Borovsk. Katavsk might stand for a while, but the recruits in Borovsk? They’ll be slaughtered.”

  “So?” Adamov asked, shrugging a single shoulder.

  Klara gaped at him. “So we need to stop them!”

  “Congratulations,” Adamov said, “you’ve got a civil war to fight, and I wish you the best of luck.” He pushed off from the wall. “But that fight is no concern of mine or the guildless under my care.”

  “It should be!” Klara said, taking a step towards him. “You know cursed well that it’s Alchemist law that punishes guildless this way.”

  Adamov’s eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare lecture me about caring for the guildless. I saw your face when you entered this sanctuary, you’ve never even thought about how guildless are forced to live.”

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  Klara’s neck burned beneath her collar. “But I don’t wish them ill.”

  “Bah! You’re like everyone else in a coat. ‘Oh dear me,’ ” Adamov said, pitching his voice up mockingly, “ ‘the guildless are so helpless. I hope someone cares for them!’ Then you turn and pretend they don’t exist. Doing nothing makes you no different from the Alchemists.” Adamov turned to Pavel. “It was good to see you, brother. But we’re done here.” He pushed roughly passed Klara and marched from the room.

  Mikhail shot Klara a glare and jerked his head towards Adamov’s retreating back.

  Klara growled and drew a deep breath, trying to force down her frustration. “Wait here,” she said, and strode out after Adamov.

  “Sir,” she said, catching up with him. “Can we talk? In private.”

  Adamov stared at her, anger roiling deep in his grey eyes. Anger at something much more than her accusations, Klara realised. Finally, Adamov nodded and strode to the hideout’s entrance. He grabbed a heavy black coat from a nail and shrugged into it.

  Klara cocked her head. She recognised the coat style, the grey trim along the collar and the… beaker angled across a mountain on his chest. The Alchemist emblem.

  Adamov slid the bolt back on the door and yanked it open. “Out.”

  Klara stepped into the tunnel, grimacing as sewage splattered up her boots.

  The door shut, plunging them into darkness.

  “Talk,” Adamov said, his voice a few feet away.

  “I can’t see anything. Are you sure it’s safe to talk here? Can’t we go somewhere with light?”

  “You don’t need to see, only talk. Yes, it’s safe. No, we can’t go somewhere with light.”

  Klara sighed, trying to ignore the urge to start a fight. They needed Adamov. If she wanted to stop this war, she needed to know everything about those mines. “All right,” Klara said at last. “You’re correct, I never gave much thought to the guildless—because I had little time while training to defend every last one of you at the gates. Even you… an Alchemist soldier.”

  Adamov grunted.

  Klara pressed on. “You stand there and accuse me of not thinking of guildless. How much did you think of them while you fought to defend the Guild that sanctioned their abuse?” She paused, waiting for Adamov to respond. He said nothing. She couldn’t even see his face to see if her jab had the desired effect. “There is a lot I don’t know from growing up in a wealthy family, secure in a powerful guild. But what I do know is that Serovnya will not be a place for the poor or disadvantaged if the Alchemist Guild is the only guild with any power here. You know that as well as I, else you’d still be serving them, not breaking their laws by caring for guildless.”

  “So you expect me to leave these people and join your revolution?” Adamov asked. “You want me to go die for your cause? Very noble gesture, yes, but what good would that do these people?”

  “I don’t expect you to fight. All we need is information.”

  “Go on.”

  “You served in the uzhas mines, yes?”

  Adamov hesitated a beat before responding. “I did.”

  “And you know the buildings? You know the soldiers’ routines? The emergency plans?”

  “Old plans, but yes, I do.”

  “Then come with us for just a few days. Tell us everything you know and help us make our plan. Then we’ll return you to Kosgrad. Yeven looks capable, he can care for these people while you’re gone.”

  “You want to get into the uzhas mines, but what are you hoping to achieve there?”

  Klara smiled, knowing full well he couldn’t see. “Well, that I can’t tell you unless you come with us.”

  “Attacking the mine is suicide.”

  “Then you’ll never have to worry about us bothering you again. And no,” Klara said, catching an unvoiced question, “Pavel is not going in with us. He’ll be safe.”

  Adamov lapsed into silence for so long Klara half wondered if he’d gone. Finally he said, “Two days. I will answer every question you have then you bring me back.”

  “Agreed,” Klara said.