“Don’t,” came Maxim’s voice, heavy as a tombstone. He loomed behind her, his obsidian arm crackling with residual energy. “Mother put that lock there for a reason.”

“Mother is a lie,” Eva whispered. “Valerica isn’t protecting us. She’s farming us.”

It sounded like a thousand locks snapping shut.

Maxim raised his hammer. “We’re the Steel that breaks the sword.”

From the shadows, a drip of mercury pooled and rose. A figure emerged—tall, elegant, impossibly smooth. Valerica Steel tilted her head, her liquid face forming a smile that held no warmth.

Maxim’s jaw tightened. He remembered the night his arm was taken. Valerica had watched. She had smiled . “Then we burn her cathedral to ash.”