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light seeps down from the tunnel that leads to the main house above the retractable mechanical stairs.
    “I’ll ’urry and finish with this,” he says, raising the broken metal flower stem in his hand. “Apply the rest of the feathers and secure the bone straps, and then I’d say we can leave at first light.”
    I wipe my greasy hands on my apron and take a big breath. “Yes, I suppose we can.” I stare off across the room, thinking of Urlick sitting in his cell, waiting to be rescued. And then the thought presses in on me that he might not be there when we arrive . . . but rather hanging, strung up in the gallows, ravens circling, already succumbed to his fate, as my mother had . . . when I arrived . . . too late.
    My shoulders hunch.
    “What is it?” C.L. says.
    “Nothing.”
    I turn my back, thinking about what I just demanded of Cordelia.
    I will not give the thought air.
    I pick up the socks and finish knotting the ties, using the handheld steam-powered stud-rivet to force grommets through the material. The crunch of the metal ring chewing through the flesh of the leather brings back memories of the woods—the gnashing teeth of hungry criminals and the whooping howls of lunatic spirits. Fear balls up in my throat. As I fell through the door of the Compound yesterday, I swore I’d never willingly return to the woods again. But in order to save Urlick, there’ll be no avoiding it. In my heart I know that. I bite my lip to keep it from trembling, and I lean again on the rivet plunger, intent on keeping my mind on the positive.
    “Yuh sure yer all right?” C.L. lowers his chin and tries to catch my gaze.
    I snap my head up. “Yes, I’m fine.”
    I set the last grommet, rub the remainder of the grease off my hands, and manage a smile. “I’ll go see about gas masks.”
    God knows we’re going to need them.
    I dart for the mechanical stairs and leap to the landing, activate the button on the handrail, and brace myself as it rises. I’m not even sure we have enough oxygen packs left in cold storage to make it to Brethren, and we certainly won’t be stopping at Mercantile to purchase more. Not with every Brigsman in the county searching for me.
    I swallow. Not to mention the ticking clock on Urlick’s life.
    The stairs creakily retract back up to the top of the room, toward the entrance to the main tunnel halls. The mechanism jerks, squeaking to a stop against the lip of the opening, revealing the darkness of the caverns beyond. I exit, swipe a torch from the sidewall, about to duck out into the passageway that leads to the kitchen, when I hear Iris scream.
    “What is it?” C.L.’s head snaps up.
    “Iris,” I confirm. “Something’s wrong!”
    C.L. drops the lamplight torch and starts running.
    I trigger the switch to lower the mechanical stairs for C.L., then rocket out into the corridor alone, bolting the few feet to the sealed vault-like door that stands between here and the main house. Triggering the lock, I push through the surge of steam that follows, race the length of the dark stone passageways back to the main house, up the back stairs, taking them two at a time up, and burst for the kitchen. C.L. bolts past me at the last second, beating me through the door. He flies to a stop next to Iris in the middle of the room.
    “It’s Cordelia!” he turns to me, shouting. “She’s not breathing!”
    I scramble over. Cordelia lies at Iris’s feet. Her skin is blue.
    “What happened?” I fall to my knees beside the two of them.
    An episode , Iris signs. But worse than ever before.
    “Oh, good God!” I drop my mouth over Cordelia’s, forcing puffs of air into her chest. It rises temporarily, then falls again the second I stop. Locking my fingers, I leap forward, pumping her chest with my palms. I drop my ear to her mouth, hearing a weak release of air. “Quickly,” I say, “Iris, take my place. Keep doing exactly what I’ve done.”
    I rise to my feet and run.
    “Wait! Where are