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“Hello, Presiyan,” Mikhail greeted him with an even tone.

“Mikhail, on behalf of the Tribunal, I ask that you come with me without resistance.” Presiyan’s voice emerged from behind the mask, deep and unsettling, each word vibrating with an ominous finality.

Mikhail had said this man was a friend. Why was he asking Mikhail to go without resistance?

“I have no intention of resisting.” Mikhail extended his hands, and before Amelia could comprehend what was happening, Presiyan produced a pair of handcuffs from beneath his coat and secured them around his wrists.

“While I’m gone”—Mikhail raised his voice, his eyes finding hers one last time—“Vladislav Nyavolski will manage the Hospital, Zacharia will handle any other issues, and Constantine will lead the Council.”

Amelia silently pleaded for an explanation, but the steel determination in his eyes warned her not to ask questions.

With measured steps, Mikhail walked towards the exit, his hands bound in front of him, Presiyan following behind. Agent Kane and the rest of the uniformed men trailed after them.

It wasn’t until the doors swung wide open and allowed the icy wind to rush into the foyer, that Amelia felt a profound emptiness stretch between her and the world, as if an invisible cord connecting her to reality had been pulled taut, threatening to snap.

PART II

23

Two months later

The early days of spring revived hope’s withered sprouts, but the mountain nights remained ice cold, snuffing out every breath of fresh air that struggled to emerge during the day.

Amelia had got more and more used to her new world. Whenever nobody was watching, she’d make her way to the top floor and search for the ring. Her approaches were hasty and uncoordinated – she’d been rifling through Mikhail’s belongings for days, but the ring kept eluding her.

If she wasn’t seeking the ring, she was finding different ways to engage her thoughts. A few times, she’d gone into the OR with Nyavolski to assist him with various cases and had visited Viktor in the autopsy room, but those pastimes couldn’t erase the oppressive feeling of helplessness. Apart from the missing ring, her visions wouldn’t obey her, and given how much time had passed, it seemed unlikely Mikhail would get out of Prokaliya anytime soon.

Amelia sat next to Constantine in the Council meeting room. The necromancer started the same way he had for the last months. “Any news of Mikhail?”

“Same old. They’re still keeping him in a secluded part of the prison. Only Presiyan and the six cardinals have access,” Jaguar said.

“These creatures don’t have a smidgen of value! Asmidgen!” Nyavolski exclaimed.

“The cardinals know no mercy.” His wife, Helena, studied the tips of her black-coloured nails. “If the stories about this place are true… Well, it’s not like many have lived to confirm or deny…”

Amelia’s stomach twisted in a knot. She hoped that all the rumours about Prokaliya were made up because otherwise, it would mean Mikhail was in grave peril. The supposed location of the prison was the Norwegian island of Bouvet. Legend had it that the cells were ensconced within the crater of a slumbering volcano, shrouded beneath a dense layer of ice – a harsh, unforgiving environment where not all who entered survived.

“Is there a way out of the prison?” she asked, aware of Zacharia’s opinion on the matter –sheer lunacy, utterly impossible, akin to courting death itself– but she clung to the slim hope that someone else in the group might think differently.

Lyla’s laughter broke through the tension, a sound that Amelia found maddening.

“Did I say something funny, witch?”

“Yes!” Lyla stuck her tongue out, showing off its purple hue again. “Nobody has ever escaped Prokaliya.Alive!”

Amelia wasn’t about to give up. “Let me rephrase. How about we find a way to get Mikhail out of there?”

“By storming the prison, you mean?” Jaguar asked.

“No. By convincing Presiyan to release him.”

The reactions ranged from sceptical stares to snarky grins and a couple of scoffs.

“Okay, fine. If convincing Presiyan isn’t an option, what about a rescue attempt? We could sneak him out…” Amelia pressed on.

Constantine shifted in the seat beside her. “That would mean war between us and the Tribunal. We are not in a position to win.”

Amelia crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. Theindifference some of the Council members showed towards Mikhail’s imprisonment made her insides boil. The sentiment only strengthened when she recalled the conversation she’d had with Constantine, Viktor, and Zacharia shortly after Mikhail had been taken.