Conrad froze at the sound of the watchman's voice in the street. "King Alistair—dead! The king is dead!" He glanced about, careful of his surroundings. The cry was taken up by any who could hear. "The king is dead! Long live King Edwin!" He swore under his breath.

The cry continued, echoing from the buildings. All districts had watchmen. They performed wakeup calls if you paid them enough, kept an eye on things for the city's inspectors, broke up fights when necessary, shouted the time throughout the day, and in this case, any breaking news that would take hours for the newspapers to print.

He hurried his pace. Elias's shop came into view. Night had fallen and it would be some hours before the papers reflected the story. He needed to pay Prince Albert another visit. Preferably before then.

He went around back and climbed the ladder to the roof, cautious. No one loitered about. Even with windows boarded up, Crock's Row had been respectful. Elias was much loved in the community here, and even with him gone, no one would dare touch his shop. Especially not when Tabby paid The Forsaken well enough to keep people away. He'd seen two of them on his way to the back, lurking, keeping an eye on things.

As soon as his feet touched the roof, he heard buzzing. Nit zoomed past him, circling, before landing on his shoulder to tweet. "Hello little fellow. Tabby has you keeping watch, eh?" Nit chirped in response. "Yes, I don't think there's a better person for the job, quite frankly." More buzzing sounded, and he found himself surrounded by a small swarm of dragonflies. He gaped, watching them. "All these are hers?" Nit chirped again. "Quite the little army. All of you keeping watch, eh? Smart." He nodded his approval. Smart indeed. He could already see many uses for tech like this. "All right, back to work with you."

He checked the hatch for traps, disabled a wire he found attached to a loaded dart, then proceeded downstairs. The loft was empty, but he heard hushed voices below.

He found Tabby and Midnight at a workbench in the back. Tabby hunched over a project, goggles affixed to her face. "Nit told me you'd arrived," she said without looking up.

Midnight stood, eyed him for a moment, then extended a hand in greeting. "Thank you for sending the note. For everything, really."

"Don't mention it." He shook Midnight's hand then nodded towards Tabby, eying the gun in her hands, though it didn't look like any gun he'd ever seen. Aside from the narrow barrel and grip. "What's she working on?"

"She's—"

"You'll see," Tabby interrupted. "Just—there!" She sat up, smiling, and propped her goggles on her forehead. Rings had formed around her eyes. He found it rather endearing, but pushed the thought away.

She held up her device into the light. He saw the prisms then. His mind turned over, thoughts tumbling into realization.

"Only one way to test it out," she said, obvious excitement ringing in her voice.

"She's been at it all evening," Midnight muttered, though there wasn't a single shred of annoyance in his voice. He eyed Tabby's master, noticing the way Midnight's gaze never quite left his apprentice, tracking her every movement. Interesting...

She went to the middle of the room and adjusted several gears on the device. "Here goes nothing..." Her finger clicked against the trigger. A beam of white light shot from the barrel with a hissing noise, burning a hole straight through a nearby set of shelves.

"Light!" Both men jumped back and shot surprised glances at each other.

A laugh escaped Tabby's chest. "It worked? I...shit! Shit! It worked!" She turned the gun over in her hands, eyeing it for the marvel it was.

The hole in the shelves hissed with steam. He went over and inspected the damage. The beam of light had burned through everything in its path all the way to the far wall where it left a circle of charred drywall. "Impressive." He looked back at her. "Quite impressive. Your latest invention, I take it?"

"It's taken years. Years!"

"Not sure Elias would approve of something like that."

She snorted. "No, that old coot wouldn't approve. Doesn't approve of violence of any kind. I've kept this secret from him. My own pet project." She shook her head. "A ray gun."

Ideas like cogs turned over in his mind, each clicking into place. He thought of the rebels on the borders, which immediately reminded him—"King Alister is dead."

"What?!" Tabby and Midnight said at once.

"I heard the news on the way over. Prince Edwin has ascended, or will. I don't know when the coronation is. I only just heard." A frown pulled at his lips.

A weapon like Tabby's in the wrong hands would be a disaster. Edwin pushed hard for control in neighboring countries. All he needed was a weapon like this to clear out any resistance in Ferrum, Aurum, Ipsum, and the others. He'd go in and massacre every bit of resistance in the name of the crown, capitalizing on the raw resources needed for Candela to grow. He wanted to make their nation the mightiest empire in the world. By Light, he'd do it.

"Given the political climate," Conrad said, "I think it best if we tie up loose ends here. Ipsum needs us. We can reunite with Elias in Solaris and retreat from there. I don't know what Ghost intends, but with Edwin on the throne, the Traditionalists have won." Tabby and Midnight shared a long look as Conrad continued, "There will be no Technologist regime. Coal and steam and clockwork. That's all we'll be."

Tabby plopped down on her stool. "What about our work?"

"What about it?" He shrugged. "We are no closer to Ghost unless..." He tilted his head, studying her. "You were in there with Reaper. Did he say anything? Give you a name? Something to go on?"

A wicked smile crossed her lips. "Yeah. He did—"

"I wouldn't trust it," Midnight said, cutting in.

Tabby shot him a glare before saying, "Hubert Maltby."

Conrad swore, rubbing his chin. "It's...plausible." He stalked over to Elias's bench and grabbed a stool, dragging it over to sit. He needed to think.

Tabby blinked back at him. "You think it could be him? All this time? And no one had any idea?"

"Prince Edwin is in a position to keep things quiet," he said. "With that much power on his side, it would make things easier for him, at least." Midnight watched them, listening, crossing and uncrossing his arms, but he said nothing. A dark expression had taken up residence on his features. Conrad tucked it away for later. "Hubert Maltby could have easily covered his tracks years ago. I killed my own master and everyone who knew my real name. So, it's possible."

"Light, you're ruthless," Midnight muttered. But there was no judgement there.

He answered with a lift of his brow. Midnight had plenty of secrets, some, he wasn't sure Tabby knew about. He had his own hunch about where Midnight and Ghost stood. But it was only ever a theory with dead ends and he wouldn't dare voice it now.

"Hmm. It certainly adds context to the hit on Prince Albert," Tabby said, continuing on. "When I received the assignment, I immediately suspected Prince Edwin. He was probably whispering in Maltby's ear this whole time."

"I suspected Ediwn as well," he agreed. "Even Prince Albert suspected his cousin had ordered the hit." The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. "Well, this certainly complicates things." And it did, beyond simply trying to get to their hands on Maltby, given how close he was to Ediwn.

"So, to take out the Spectrum, we've got to get close to the crown," Tabby murmured, her eyes going unfocused, probably to relay the news to Nit.

"Right," Midnight cleared his throat and sat forward in his chair. "How long will it take us to get out of Chroma?"

"We're not leaving." Tabby stood and began pacing. "I can do it—we can do it. Together."

"Not happening," Midnight said, letting the tone of his voice turn into a command. From master to apprentice. His words left no room for argument. But the way his eyes tracked Tabby...

Conrad frowned. There was something in their body language that suggested a deeper relationship beyond what was normal for master and apprentice. Even if she'd spent the last twelve years training with him. Midnight was far more protective of her than he'd anticipated. Perhaps that was a good thing. Except it left him feeling...oddly threatened.

"We're so close, Conrad." Tabby turned to him, using his first name for a second time. He hadn't missed the first use of it early that morning. Both times surprised him, but also left him...pleased. "If we do this—if I do this—you'll give me his name? You promised."

He opened his mouth, then quickly shut it.

Midnight's frown deepened. "What name?"

"My father's name." She didn't look at Midnight as she answered, holding Conrad's gaze.

"You failed to mention that when you told me everything." Midnight lifted an accusing eyebrow, his face hardening.

"I didn't think it was relevant."

"I'd say that's pretty damn relevant, Tabby," Midnight snapped. She still didn't meet his gaze. So Midnight rounded on Conrad. "You know her father's identity? And you haven't given it—?"

"Steiner and I made a deal, Midnight. So drop it."

"Yes, but clearly he's lording it over you, using the name to manipulate you into getting what he wants." Midnight flashed him a cold look, one that sent his spine tingling. He knew exactly what kind of killer Midnight was and didn't have any intention of crossing him. Ever.

"Oh, please!" Tabby stopped pacing. "Conrad and I want the same thing. The end of the Spectrum. Don't you? Please don't tell me you think an entity like this should exist. That what it put us through—what it will continue to put Chroma's misfits and rejects through—is good?"

"I never said that." A vein in Midnight's neck jumped.

"Well you might as well have. Eliminating the Spectrum means freedom. For all of us." Her voice rose.

So did Midnight's when he said, "At what cost, Tabby? Hubert Maltby resides by Prince Edwin's—King Edwin's—side, day and night. And you want to sneak into Lightborn Palace? This doesn't merely involve Ghost, anymore. It involves the king. And what, just so you can learn your father's identity?"

"I have a right to know. You have no idea—"

"Don't think I don't know!" Midnight jumped to his feet, letting more emotion show than was normal for a Spect as he rounded on her. "I know how badly you've wanted that information. How long you've searched for it in secret."

Conrad cleared his throat. "Please, both of you. Arguing isn't—"

"Stay out of it!" they both shot at him. He held up his hands, placating. But they fell silent after that, throwing glares at each other like daggers. He sighed, relieved. At least Midnight hadn't insisted he come clean about Tabby's father, which was going to be much harder than he expected, given what he'd just learned.

"We can do this," Tabby repeated. "Deadlock, Midnight, Tempest. We're the best Spects in the Spectrum. If we don't stop Ghost, no one will. I'm going to kill that prick with the one thing he's helping Prince Edwin eliminate. Prism tech."

It wasn't entirely true. Traditionalists didn't want to eliminate prism tech, they wanted to remove it from industry. But worse, utilize it in weaponry, to further their own cause. To cripple neighboring countries and subject them to Candelan rule. And if Prince Edwin got his hands on that gun....

Midnight shot him a glare like this was all his fault, and said, "Don't tell me you think this is a good idea, Deadlock. You're going to let her call the shots? You're a fucking full mask, for Light's sake. Even I know better than to agree to this."

Conrad shrugged. "You're her master."

"I think I've earned the right to call the shots, don't you think?" She turned to Midnight, her voice dripping with sweetness. Something deeper lurked beneath the surface. And just like that, the apprentice silenced the master. "And anyway, you don't have to come along if—"

Midnight threw up his hands. "Light! Of course I'm coming, Tabby. Someone has to watch your back."

He studied them. Yes, very interesting....

"Then what's the fucking problem?" She crossed her arms, looking between them. Neither answered. "Good. Then we'll need a plan."

They got right to work.

***

Conrad crept through Prince Albert's estate and found him where he often did, pacing a dent in his study's rug. Albert all but growled when he entered. "Tell me why my uncle had to go and die now of all times?!"

"What's the damage?" He shut the door and poured himself a drink, perching on the corner of Albert's desk.

"More than I care to contend with. I've had twelve messages in the last two hours. They want me to call a vote—and of course I'll have to. But that's not all. Uncle's been dead less than six hours and already Edwin has gathered forces on Ferrum's border. He'll invade tomorrow, at this rate. Hasn't even had the coronation yet. Isn't even officially Candela's king."

"Has Ferrum's troops ample supplies to hold the line?"

"For now. The greedy bastard won't stop, though. And that's not all." Conrad arched an eyebrow. "I've had word from my spies on the line. Talk of weapons beyond what we've seen. He's been collecting them, right under our noses. All those Lumineers we thought he was arresting and killing? The deaths have been staged. And the people that have gone missing all through the city, men and women of teenage age? He's been twisting them. Experimenting on them."

Conrad's limbs went cold. The image of Tabby's ray gun still burned a hole in his mind as surely as if she'd shot him with it. "What exactly has he been doing with them?"

"Building weapons. Turning humans into prism tech weapons. I don't have the full scope of it yet. Rumor is, he's also setting bullet casings with prism flecks."

"Eliminating room for error? Can it be done?" The thought of every bullet reaching its mark was chilling. Terrifying, really.

"You'd have to ask Tabby, but my bet is yes. You've seen the way her prism daggers work."

He had. And they'd discussed it plenty, the science and magic behind it. Prisms were a great source of energy, the lines blurred for things like this. Lumineers weren't simpletons who merely fitted prisms into tech. Something inexplicable happened when they handled the bits of glass.

"Light, what a mess. And with the way things have gone, Edwin didn't get the death he wanted. I'm still here, beating heart and all. So he's going to do everything he can to block me. Any minute, the inspector will be here to arrest me under false charges."

Conrad rubbed the stubble on his face. "We've got a lead on Ghost." Albert froze, mid pace. Surprised. Hopeful, even. "You might want to sit down for this," Conrad warned. Albert complied, and he spent the better part of an hour telling the prince everything that had happened over the last twenty four hours. Tabby's capture. Reaper's torture. Their suspicions. Their plans.

Albert listened, incredulous. "You really think he's Ghost? All this time?"

"If the shoe fits. It does explain quite a bit."

"It does, indeed." Albert shifted, frowning. "And you still haven't told her."

"It's gotten rather complicated."

Albert shook his head. "Sneaking into Lightborn Palace won't be easy. Maltby's with Prince Edwin all hours of the day. How convenient, don't you think? His own personal bodyguard. He's untouchable." Albert hesitated, then asked, "When will you act?"

"That information stays with me, old friend. As I'm sure you'll understand."

"Yes, yes. Keep your secrets. It's what has kept you alive for so long."

He nodded and stood. "I'll leave the damage control to you. Good luck. Let's hope we both make it out of this alive."