***
I lie there, slipping in and out of consciousness for a few more hours, before all the tubes are gone, and they release me back to my room. Flynn comes in at some point to talk to me again. I try not to be outright hostile, but I can’t quite manage civil. Every time his lips move, I wonder how he might be trying to manipulate me. I think about the stupid, blind devotion I harbored for so long and can’t help feeling very disappointed in myself.
Sitting in my room, I absentmindedly rub the small bottle cap Ethan had pressed into my hand. It’s Alexei’s—I know it. He must have dropped it during the attack. It is my touchstone now, the only thing that feels real. My arm is healed, the broken blood vessels in my eye have cleared, and the skin where the Peacekeepers tore into me has mended, leaving only a faint pink scar. Score one for Tesla medicine. On my own, it would have taken weeks to heal. Now, it’s precious time I don’t have to waste.
Kicking off the blankets pooled around me, I throw my legs over the side of the bed and slip my feet into my boots. My body is moving before I can fully think through what I’m doing. Raking my fingers through my hair, I twist it into a messy bun at the back of my neck and wind a rubber band around it. Slipping out the door, I walk into the hallway.
I don’t know what time it is, but it must be late. The corridor lights have dimmed for the evening and the false windows are dark as I walk past them. No one is wandering the halls. Except for the occasional hiss of steam or sputter of oil from the gas lamps, the Institute is quiet. When I get to Ethan’s room, I pause, running my fingers over the cool brass door. I can almost feel him inside. My heart stutters in my chest as I drop my hand and keep walking.
Down three flights of spiral stairs from the Dormitory Floor is Tesla’s lab. I stand at the door, wondering how I’m going to open it. Do I knock? Taking a deep breath, I raise my hand to do just that when I hear the gears inside click into place. The whole thing opens just a crack.
He knows I’m here.
Of course he does. Tesla sees everything in this place. Pulling the door open, I slip inside, closing it behind me. As the locks click back into place, a cold spike shoots down the back of my neck. Should have left it open, I think before remembering that it’s computer-automated. Tesla would have just closed it himself anyway. Behind me, the lights flick on to a full glow. As I make my way slowly through the workstations, I ball up my hands, then relax them over and over. My hands are cold and shaking.
When I get to the main terminal, Tesla’s hologram is already there, his flat eyes staring at me.
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