#{fallen} chapter 8

     “Waawa~~!”

     Noah toddled over to his sister, sitting in the grass. Tiny hands reaching for her.

     “Noah! Look at you! You’re already so big~!”

     “Wawa come home?”

     “You’re not angry with me?”

     “. . .”

     “Calm and cold as always, aren’t you. Your daughter is dead. Aren’t you upset?”

     “Of course I’m upset! My little girl is dead!”

     "Okay. They’re done. It’s not perfect, though it should at least scramble most attempts to get into your mind. If not block entirely.”

     “Thank you, Elias . . . I wouldn’t want anyone trying to use my mind against me. Especially now, with everything going on. And the other thing I asked you for?”

     “It’ll only take a bit more. But are you sure about this? It’s a nice gesture and all, but it is going to be expensive.”

     “K . . . Kroshka . . . ?”

     One day. He’d only been gone for one day. To finish preparing Lazuli’s new room.

     And in that day, less than that, his facility was in flames. Fire as black as night reached for the skies. The roar mixed with the dying screams of everyone inside . . . His coven . . . Centuries of research . . . Of hard work and innovations . . . burning to the ground. However, his mind was only focused on what he felt back at his castle.

     His connection to Lazuli was severed. He could no longer sense her through his mark. Which could only mean . . .

     Kaz ran into the flaming wreck. Undisturbed by the heat and flames. Dashed past rubble and burning corpses begging for his help. Or maybe that was just the hissing of the fire. Flames licked at his clothes though he was unaware. Just heading for that doo- . . .

     Kazimir fell to his knees. Held back by his familiar as he tried to lunge forth. To dig through the fire . . . To gather the remains . . .

     On the floor . . . was a corpse . . . charred black. Still burning. Leg missing. As well as its arm . . . But not far from it. Still nailed into place. A pale, white arm. A clean cut ran diagonally across the forearm. Edges charred black.

     3 old scars spanning across the wrist . . .

     “Look, Bach!”

     Kaz gave a spin, the paintbrush in his hand pointed toward the ceiling of the room. Now covered in poorly drawn stars. Contrasting with the furniture of the room. Fine details carved into the wood depicting various Russian folklore.

     “Do you think she’ll like it?”

     “Kaz . . . Did you even ask her if she wanted that?”

     “ . . . No. B-but she’ll want to see the stars . . . Are you saying I should’ve put in a skylight?”

     “N-no. I’m saying shouldn’t you just bring her here and let her decorate the room herself?”

     “But I want to surpri-”

     Kaz turned his head. Seemingly staring right through the wall of the room and into the distance.

     She could hear it. Panic. There . . . was something going on outside. People were running. Screaming. Fighting . . . something. Did one of the experiments escape? She couldn’t make out what they were yelling. Their words blurred together. Mixing with the sound of casting spells. Gunshots. And . . . metal against metal . . . A sword fight.

     Not that it had anything to do with her. She was stuck where she was.

     But as the smell of smoke grew stronger, she looked up. Eyes slowly registering . . . that the door was melting?

     A hole opened up from the center. A red ring of embers expanding to reveal-

     “. . . Mikhail?”

     She could barely say his name before she could feel him at her side. Hear him hiss as his fingers tried to pry at the nail in her hand. That’s right . . . She should tell him it would burn . . . Hopefully, he still had some of Py’s serum left. She didn’t think she could get him more. Since . . .

     “I can’t leave, Mikhail . . . I can’t . . .”

     Tears began to well. Her back stung. Even more so as Mikhail’s hand rested on the recovering burns, pulling her head onto his shoulder. He was shaking himself. His voice . . . oddly higher than usual.

     “She escaped?”

     “You heard me. She disappeared. Some time last night?”

     The Cradle labs were in a panic. Researchers rushing about to find clues as to what happened. The woman they had detained from the masquerade had vanished. No evidence of forced entry. No tampering with the security system. And for someone to come in undetected like that, everyone was scrambling to make sure everything else was still accounted for. One bursting into Malcolm’s office to ask him to see to something.

     “Look. I can’t talk. Can we do this later?”

     Mikhail gave a halfhearted wave as the man left. Not quite sure if he was meant to stay or leave. Eventually deciding on the former so he could get a briefing from Malcolm himself. Even if Nami was heading the investigation, be felt being at least aware of the situation would be beneficial to the group as a whole. If anything, he’d feel better if he wasn’t kept out of the loop.

     He was always a bit of a snoop.At least in terms of anything he felt had to do with him. And as cardmaster, even temporarily, the goings on at the Cradle counted.

     Malcom’s desk was a mess. Not quite what Mikhail expected from a head scientist. Scattered papers and pens all over the surface. Enough that he could barely see any actual desk. Even his desktop was . . .

     Mikhail stared at a window off to the side of the screen. A report about something or other, he didn’t bother reading. His eyes only able to focus on a name . . .

     Lazuli Ashtrum.

     He couldn’t pull up the window fast enough. An email. A recent one. Only sent perhaps a week ago. Sent by . . .

     “Good morning, Kroshka.”

     Still groggy, it was a trial to open her eyes. Lids still heavy, threatening to shut tight again. The room seemed to shake as blurred vision came to focus on her leg. Or what was left of it. Pristine white bandages covered the mid-section of her thigh. But past that, there was nothing.

     “Sorry about that. We tried to heal it. But it seems that parasite of yours also absorbs magic used on you.”

     “ . . . You didn’t know that before?”

     “We never tried before.” He brought over a bowl of a clear, dark broth. Offering her a spoonful. “Here. Eat.”