Tabby took a deep breath and lifted her hand, splaying her fingers then bringing them into a fist in a coaxing movement. She summoned the surrounding light within the workshop. Her focus sharpened. She spread her awareness to encompass Midnight beside her. Steiner sat at her workbench, observing—coaching. "Good," he said, rubbing his chin. "Needs work but this time was better."

Cloaking herself was easy, aside from the massive headache that usually set in within minutes, making it near impossible to maintain. Cloaking someone besides herself was more challenging, almost impossible. She'd have to work up to cloaking the three of them, though she still doubted her ability to do so without vomiting.

But...that was the plan. They would sneak into the palace by cover of darkness and using her black prism, she would get them as far as the interior. She wouldn't be able to hold out much longer than that. But they were Spects. Walking in the shadows was their nature.

Flint had been instrumental to their plans. Through his instruction, they'd drawn floor plans of each level—rudimentary maps. As head of the palace guard, Chester Bates was intimately aquatinted with the palace layout. He'd gone so far as to give up hidden servant passages...after proper motivation. She didn't need to think about what that motivation entailed.

Each of them spent hours pouring over every level, memorizing.

They'd set a time. With the coronation happening today, there would be many guests in the palace. A coronation ball was to follow, lasting late into the evening. And then everyone would leave and the palace staff would collapse, exhausted. It would be the perfect time to sneak in. It was now or wait—but there would be no waiting. They couldn't allow Ghost to gather strength.

With Hubert eliminated, King Edwin's reign would be weakened. The Spectrum eliminated. The balance back to what it ought to be.

Exhaling, she tried again. This time, light rushed toward her and Midnight more easily, as if muscle memory had taken over. She held for thirty seconds, a minute, two minutes, until click. Steiner stopped his pocket watch. "That was excellent."

Her head was spinning, throbbing. She swayed on her feet and lost her balance. Midnight's arms wrapped around her, holding her against him. "Light sickness. I think she needs a break, Steiner. Chamomile tea?" He asked her, still holding her against him. She nodded against his chest. "And maybe a nap? Then we try again. This time with Steiner too." She nodded again. Speaking was too much. Naps were a great way to combat the migraines that came with using too much light. After something like this, she'd probably sleep several hours.

"You going to manage?" Midnight's eyes darted to the stairs.

She followed his gaze and shook her head. "Maybe just a minute to rest," she breathed, leaning her weight against him. Instead, he scooped her up and carried her to the sofa in the loft, pulling off her boots to make her more comfortable. He peeled off her socks too. His thumb lingered over the small black ink tattooed to the inside arch of her foot, a place few would spot it. One-nine-eight-nine. Every Spect was given a number when they emerged from the box. Their identity while they were acolytes at the temple. They only earned their Spect name and their half mask if they succeeded with death.

A breathless huff escaped her lips and she pulled her foot away from Midnight. He stood without saying anything and moved to the kitchen area. Steiner lounged at the table, flipping back through the paper that sat there from the night before. Midnight prepared a pot of tea. She drank deeply. Her eyes were already heavy, but the tea relaxed her mind enough to make speaking possible. "Nap time," she managed, before padding barefooted into her room, closing the door behind her. She could hear them murmuring beyond, but didn't care to listen.

Nit woke her an hour later. They tried again, this time with Steiner and Midnight. When she felt confident that she could perform long enough to slip past the guards they gave her more tea and sent her to nap for a second time.

After dinner, she wandered around Elias's workshop, gazing fondly at the things within. If their plan went off without a hitch tonight, they might come back here and put their feet up, relax, relish in their success. But if things didn't go well....

They had bags packed in case. And if that happened, she hated to think what parting would mean. Never seeing this place again. Just in case, she went around absentmindedly putting objects back in their proper places. Most of the stuff had been cleaned up after the raid that had taken Elias away from her.

***

At one o'clock in the morning, they left Crock's Row and made their way to the center of the city. They wore cloaks over their disguises. A carriage was hired to take them near the palace. The traffic in the vicinity was heavy. People slowly leaving the palace as the ball festivities died down. They went the remaining distance on foot. It would be two or three o'clock before the party truly dissipated.

Tabby had all manner of weapons stowed in the folds of her maid uniform, as many prisms as could be carried, and her prism ray gun. She'd sewn additional secret compartments into the guard uniforms too. They were armed as heavily as she, if not more so. Their plan was to keep casualties to a minimum. Kill Hubert Maltby and get out. If they had to make additional kills on the way, so be it.

There were three main gate entries. They reached the north entry, the busiest. The portcullis was wide open to allow carriages through. Guards flanked the entry, keen eyes keeping a careful watch. On the wall, more patrols made their rounds back and forth. They were all armed with rifles—a serious concern—but she and Steiner controlled violet. They needed to conserve whatever they had to protect from gunfire. Any bullet wounds could be healed using white. But with Steiner's mediocre abilities, she worried about any of them getting shot.

Standing beneath a nearby eave, they watched the flow of outgoing traffic from the palace. Nit fluttered down and took a position on her bodice in the form of a beetle. She wanted her mechanimal on the inside for this. A small flask of chamomile tea was strapped to the outside of her thigh. It wouldn't be much, but it would take the edge off once the effects of light sickness kicked in. "Remember, as soon as we're through, keep to the shadows. We take the back kitchen servant's stair to the third floor. Maltby's chambers are beside the king's own private quarters. In and out. If he's not in his rooms, we wait. I don't want us traipsing all over the palace." Steiner shifted from foot to foot.

They nodded. They'd been over it multiple times, talking out backup plans if they got split up. All three of them could easily scale the wall, if need be, but would have to contend with the guards on top. And if they did get split up, they would rendezvous at Elias's workshop roof, where they could make a run for it if needed.

"Ready?" Tabby asked, her heart hammering in her chest. She'd done many jobs before, but nothing instilled a feeling of dread quite like this. Silence was her answer. A sudden urge had her grabbing Midnight's hand. She gave it a brief squeeze before pulling light around them. With her arms hooked through theirs to keep them together, they surged forward.

It was clumsy moving with two people locked with her, even if all three of them were masters of moving in shadow. They crossed the street and moved along the wall, edging past the guards and around the entrance. Once they were in the entry tunnel, it was easier. The darkness meant less light, and pulling less light meant less gritting her teeth against the headache quickly building. Once inside the walls, they continued to move along the outer wall of the palace.

"Hurry," she gasped as the throbbing intensified. They spied the massive herb garden they planned to hide in, just across the serving entrance in the back. Her head was splitting as she shed the cloak of darkness. She fell to her knees right there, in plain sight, as the world heaved and lurched around her. Midnight had to pull her behind a hedge. "Sorry," she mumbled at her carelessness.

"Have some tea and take a breath. We're well shadowed here." No rebuke. No scolding. So very different.

They sank into the shadows, keeping their cloaks tight around them. She was glad of Midnight's hulking frame as she leaned into him, putting the flask to her lips. It shook in her hands. The chamomile had an immediate soothing effect, as did Midnight's fingers as he stroked her hair and kneaded the muscles at her neck. She sipped it slowly, drawing out its effects. Steiner kept watch while she recovered.

They waited an hour as lights began to wink out, thankful that any late revelers were not interested in exploring the servant garden. She continued to lean against Midnight, her back to his front. He kept his hands splayed over her stomach. She knew his eyes were darting around, looking for any movement, anything amiss, while she recovered. It was a relief to work with him, to have the luxury to let her own guard down.

When half the tea was gone, she stowed the flask.

They adjusted their masks. Much to her surprise, Midnight tied hers into place. He'd never offered to do so before. She noticed how his fingers lingered over her hair, caressing. They knew the danger of this mission, that there was a possibility none of them would make it out. Now was not a good time for the heat that pooled in her core.

Steiner went first, nodding at them before disappearing into the darkness. He had a hand full of darts and blowpipe at the ready. They waited for his signal, a flicker of candlelight in the window of the servants' entrance before moving forward.

They entered the cook's quarters. A large kitchen complete with copper pipes for plumbing, and rooms off to the side for food storage. A huge servant's table ran the span of the room, with glass offices to the side for the butler, steward, and head woman.

She immediately glanced around to see that Steiner had darted those still awake. Cups and a bottle of gin sat half drunk on the table. And cards, which Steiner was quickly picking up and placing back on the table. She walked past the gathered bodies, unconscious, propped against the butler's office wall. Only six. Not bad.

They shed their cloaks and stowed them out of sight. Everything was going smoothly, according to plan. But for how long? The servant stairway leading up to the royal quarters was located in the back corner of the room. It stood, unassuming, just out of the way. Steiner took the lead while she and Midnight followed.

The palace was silent. Everyone had tumbled into their beds, exhausted after the festivities. This created a problem in and of itself. They needed to maintain absolute silence or risk alerting guards from other stations. Steiner signaled to them at the top of the stairs. Midnight stepped forward, around her. "Stay out of sight until I give the all clear."

"Don't do anything stupid," she whispered in response.

Steiner readied his darts. Midnight followed suit. They stepped out and fired at the nearest guards. Silence continued. She heard a muffled grunt, and then "What the...?" And then the sound of bodies dropping to the floor.

"You there!" A shout from down the corridor. "Why aren't you at your post."

"Shit." Steiner stepped back into the stairwell. Midnight took his place behind him. She gazed at them with wide eyes but they didn't look at her. "Didn't expect another guard at the end of the hallway. It looks like Flint might have jumbled his information."

"Or lied," she snarled, angry.

"No matter," Steiner said. "We can take them. On my count?" he asked, voice low. Midnight nodded. "Three, two, one..." They both plunged out of the stairwell. The corridor erupted into shouts, which she was certain were blanketed by the glow of light she saw on the walls and in the stairwell.

"Fuck," she muttered. "Fuck!" She crept back into the shadows, listening.

Darts were silent, and she couldn't hear what was happening. She didn't know if they were darting more of the guards, or grappling with them, or what. She heard the thump of a body, and another. Then more shouts. And—

Rifflefire.

Her blood turned cold. Midnight's signal be damned. He had no way of pulling violet and protecting himself.

Riffles. It didn't matter that the hall was muted with green light. She had Steiner's large white prism. She could heal gunshot wounds, but only so many and only if she got to them quickly, before they were deadly. And if she couldn't see him, then she couldn't exactly pull violet to protect him.

"What's happening?" Nit's voice was jarring.

"Go!" she told Nit, sending them into the hallway. "But stay out of sight." Their beetle form buzzed and he took flight from her maid's outfit, zooming out of the stairwell.

Taking a deep breath, she shot out of the stairwell and screamed, covering her mouth and backing against the wall, playing her part well.

"Miss!" One of the guards shouted, spotting her. "Miss, you shouldn't be here."

She glanced about, wide-eyed. "I..."

The guards were in a standoff with Steiner and Midnight crouched behind a nearby statue. There were fifteen guards in total, rifles raised. Fifteen?! What the fuck? There should have been eight. "Miss! You must go back downstairs. You shouldn't be here."

Feigning shock, she did the opposite and began edging along the wall, towards the guards, keeping a hand over her mouth and heart. Terror on her face. They paused in their fire, trying to calm her. She launched herself towards the nearest guard, straight into his arms. "Save me," she gasped, eyes wide. He took her and moved her behind them for protection. Now safe, her hero's attention snapped back to the rogue guards hiding behind the nearby statue.

It was all the distraction Steiner needed. Light shot out from behind the statue and pushed a guard away. Midnight did the same, firing off a band of blue. More shots fired, sending statue fragments exploding into the air. They could only knock one guard aside at a time, and with fifteen, the others were already firing. Midnight and Steiner sank down behind the statue, taking cover. She noticed then, a faint glow of violet surrounding both of them. But if Steiner wasted it all, they'd be completely unprotected. And with their using green to mute the hall, they'd both succumb to light sickness sooner rather than later.

In the chaos, she'd been all but forgotten by the guards. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her opportunity. She pulled shadows around her and slipped away, using the distraction to her advantage. Hubert Maltby's chambers were at the end of the hall. Her head was throbbing when she reached it. Light blanketed everything to keep sound from seeping into any of the chambers. It was impossible to listen at the door and know if anyone was within. There was no light spilling from beneath, so she took her chances.

The door was unlocked. She twisted the knob and slipped in, closing it behind her. Cool, silent darkness greeted her. Moving close to the wall, she released the light holding her. The second she did, a gaslamp flared into existence, leaving her fully exposed.

***

Conrad noticed Tabby's disappearance the same time Midnight did. "She's going for Maltby," he said. "Let's keep the guards distracted."

He trusted Tabby to get the job done, knew she'd take this as a matter of personal pride, wanting to earn her father's name. Guilt for keeping it only grew in the pit of his stomach. If only she knew what this place truly was to her, and how much she was tied to it.

He and Midnight locked eyes, nodded, then threw out streams of light from around the statue, knocking a few more guards back. The guards stumbled, but the others seized the opportunity to fire again. As long as they kept up the distraction long enough, Tabby would get the job done. He just hoped he could pull enough light. Already, he felt the faint fringes of a building headache. Then it would turn to a migraine, dizziness, and he'd be puking his guts out, weak and incoherent.

Now would have been a handy time for a white blast. But damned if he hadn't already given the white prism to Tabby in case she needed to heal them. So instead, they fired off single streams of colored light. Midnight couldn't go stronger than blue. Yet, his violet didn't seem to be working. Something Albert said came crashing back.

"Why doesn't violet work on their riffles?" Midnight asked, as if reaching the realization at the same time. They'd tried several times, and failed, to knock them away.

He poked his head around and got a good look at the nearest guard, shooting a birst of violet. It disappeared, as if eaten by the gun itself. His gaze narrowed. He caught a glimmer of black in the gun's metal. Then he saw it and swore. "Prism tech. Not just any tech. Black prisms."

Light! How the fuck had they gotten their hands on black prisms in that number when he'd searched long and hard for the single one around Tabby's neck? Did every riffle have one? They must have found large enough prisms that could be chipped down into smaller sizes. All the time it had taken him, and here they stood.

"What do you mean, prism tech?!" Midnight bit out. "How can riffles be prism tech?"

They both leaned around the statue and shot more streams of light at the nearest guards, pushing them back. More shots rang out in answer, sending dust and debris to shower them. The statue was a mere stump of what it had been, and soon that would be shot to bits, leaving them fully exposed.

"There are black prisms in the guns, protecting them from light. They just eat it. And I'd wager there are tiny prism flecks in each bullet casing."

"Light!" Midnight choked. "These must have come from Laghollow. I didn't think they were doing much more than creating freaks out there."

"Laghollow? You knew about their experiments? You didn't think to say anything about it?" he barked. Midnight simply shrugged in answer. He swore under his breath.

This certainly complicated things. It also confirmed Albert's intelligence. Prince Edwin was dealing in prism warfare. Who knew what surprises the world would face on account of it.

"We need to make it to the statue across the hall," Midnight breathed. "This one's about to go."

Conrad nodded, counting down from three. They fired off a series of light jets as a distraction then bolted, flying for the statue further down. He caught a brief glimpse of Nit in the form of a tiger prowling towards the guards from the end of the hall before more shots rang out. The guards had no idea what was coming from behind. His leg erupted into agony just as he slid into position behind the statue, Midnight hot on his heels. Rifflefire. He'd been shot.