It was interesting, somewhat, that River was content to share his role at center stage with a boy he knew to not even be a Maestro. As to the Ambassador, that, at least, made perfect sense. Letting go of Josiah’s hand had been distressing, particularly given the cold that settled onto her palm immediately after she’d uncurled her fingers. Still, Octavia’s drive to offer a good first impression was again eating away at her, and that didn’t necessarily entail clinging to the comfort of another in front of the Velrose Acolyte.

  Actually sitting in the chapel was jarring. If there was a God to pray to that day, she would’ve prayed to be anywhere but here. With so many bodies present, even in the large expanse of the room, the lack of echo somehow unsettled her even further. She shifted closer to Josiah instinctively.

  For better or worse, there was a fourth companion that had taken a front-row seat to the acolyte’s words. It only made sense, given the manner by which the same title had sat upon her shoulders years before. She’d had the common sense to sit far, far from Josiah, well beside River instead. Josiah didn’t object. He didn’t even turn his head, fixated on the active acolyte of the blossom alone. It was for the better.

  “Which…one did you want to do first?” Allison asked softly.

  “Seraphim,” Josiah answered. “It’s going to be the more difficult of the two by far, and we honestly might need your help a bit.”

  “My help?”

  “Just in the case of an emergency. Are you…comfortable enough with Valkyrie?”

  She nodded. “It took awhile to get used to playing, but it wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be. It’s big, but it’s not heavy. It’s nice to me.”

  River crossed his arms. “It’s honestly impressive that you can play such a large Harmonial Instrument yourself. It makes sense, fundamentally speaking, but still.”

  “If it was a normal bell, there’d be no way. I’d get hurt. I still have to jump really high, though, and that’s hard. Sometimes my ankles get sore.”

  Octavia bit her lip. She wasn’t fond of the idea that the acolyte’s partner brought pain to her in any capacity, particularly relative to her age. Again, she swallowed the guilt that came with her sickening butterfly effect.

  “I don’t want to put you through more than you can handle,” Josiah continued. “That having been said, Valkyrie’s Call would be an absolute last resort. If we somehow screw up, if something slips out of there, you’d still have the means to fight back up here.”

  “But if we guide the Muse inside Valkyrie’s Call, wouldn’t Velrose be safe?” Octavia tried. “They can…protect whatever place is most important to their Maestro. That’d be Velrose, in this case, right?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t want to risk it. We don’t know how much, and we don’t know how far that extends. For all we know, it could just be the church. It could be one specific part of the city. Hell, it might not even be the city. There’s no way of guaranteeing with 100% certainty that it’ll be Velrose. I don’t trust that damn spider web.”

  River raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  Octavia winced. Josiah, too, gritted his teeth. “Nothing. Just know that this is the safer option. If Allison is up for it, I trust her. If not, there’s a few other things we can try, but they’re not nearly as effective. Again, if we play our cards right, it hopefully won’t even come to that.”

  Allison closed her eyes briefly. There was a moment, fleeting as it was, where Octavia hoped she would decline. She wondered how much of the acolyte’s decisions were obligations rather than personal choices. “I can do that.”

  Josiah took a deep breath. “Good. That takes care of things above. Obviously, our main problem is…gonna be below.”

  “I know most of what you wanted to do from what you told me,” Allison offered quietly. “Did anything change?”

  He shook his head. “Everything’s still the same.”

  The boy side-eyed River. River nodded once, and Josiah did the same back.

  When Josiah rose to his feet, Octavia immediately lamented the lack of warmth at her side. In its wake came a sudden sense of vulnerability that left her cold and lonely. His footsteps didn’t echo, both secondary to the muffled room and the vivid velvet that met his every step below. Even so, there was something powerful in the way he carried himself, brimming with a confidence that rivaled River’s own.

  Where the acolyte had largely spoken to the three siege organizers alone, Josiah showed no fear in staring down thirty-two Maestros at once. It reminded her of Vincent’s trial, somewhat, a shining display of self-confidence that was still equally as impressive to remember.

  River preceded him. “This is Josiah,” he said, gesturing accordingly. “He’s an expert on Velpyre. He organized all of this. He has a plan for how we’re going to make this work.”

  Even with River’s weighted introduction, Josiah was unfazed. He didn’t so much as clear his throat, his projection perfect and his voice made of crystal. He stuffed his hands in his pockets nonchalantly.

  “Here’s how this is gonna go,” he spoke, his volume flawless. “You might’ve noticed on the way here that this city slopes upwards towards the church. That’s just how it’s built. Down below, it’s the opposite. The whole city gradually slopes downwards towards a different church entirely, and that’s where we’re headed. Seraphim’s Call is a stationary Harmonial Instrument that lives in that church. It’s a straight shot in a straight line--or, at least, it should be. It’s gonna be dark. We’re probably going to have almost zero visibility. When I say it’s gonna be dark, I mean it, because the Dissonance sure isn’t gonna help anything. I’ll say it again--we can’t prove with absolute certainty that there’s Dissonance down there at all. If there is, we can’t say how much. Just know that if we were to try to take the Ambassador there alone and the worst-case scenario really did happen, she would die. So would we.”

  Octavia shuddered at the thought, hugging herself tightly as she dug her fingernails into her shoulders. More so than her own death, she couldn’t stand to imagine those of the people she loved. Her stomach churned for a different reason than usual.

  “If you have a legacy that makes any sort of luminescence, that’ll be beneficial. We’ll do this in pairs, for the most part, and try not to put the same legacies together if we can help it. Do not, under any circumstance, try to go off by yourself intentionally. Velpyre is an entire city. It’s roughly the same size as the one above it. If you get separated and you end up by yourself, you’re going to be in serious danger. At this point, I really hope I’ve…made myself clear about what this is going to entail.”

  He took a deep breath. “This is your last chance. Once we go down there, there’s no backing out. I can’t give you a taste of anything you’re going to see ahead of time, so you’re just gonna have to take my word for it. This isn’t normal Dissonance. I’m speaking from experience. There’s a very real risk that you might get hurt. There’s a…very real risk that you might die. There’s no shame in self-preservation. No one will judge you. If you have your doubts, voice them now. If you don’t want to do this…back out now.”

  Josiah paused, scanning the miniature Maestro crowd in silence for a moment. Octavia watched the way Allison did the same, as did River. The Ambassador, too, was not immune, her heart pounding with every flicker of her eyes. She wouldn’t have blamed a single hand that arose. In truth, she waited patiently to see at least several.

  When she found none, she wanted to cry--whether from relief, joy, or something else entirely, she wasn’t sure. She’d expected the four sets of eyes that fixed her alone with soft smiles and confident grins. Mina shaking her head with a powerful smirk of her own, albeit offered more to her Essenced preacher, brought equal peace to Octavia’s heart. She found muted variants of the same from many eyes and gestures in every pew, widespread and honest. She almost smiled to herself in turn.

  River did give her a smile instead, warm and comforting. Octavia appreciated the gesture. Josiah himself closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply.

  “Good,” she heard the Essenced boy murmur under his breath.

  Octavia watched as Josiah pulled one hand from his pocket, raising three fingers aloft. “We have three main objectives once we’re down there.”

  He reduced that quantity to one. “Number one is getting the Maestra for Seraphim’s Call to the church. She’s going to have to bond with the instrument again if we’re going to make this work. If she dies, it’s over. She’s not a Maestra until she makes it there. For now, she’s just a normal person. She’s going to need protection, and hopefully a solid amount of it--especially in the dark. Under no circumstances can she be separated from at least one Maestro at any point in time.”

  River raised his hand. “We’ll take care of that. The Ensemble will escort her. Even if one or two of us get separated, somehow, we have three Apexes on our side collectively. We’ll be able to get her there, provided we know where we’re going.”

  “She knows the way there,” Josiah said bitterly. “That won’t be a problem.”

  Rather, his bitterness wasn’t overwhelmingly obvious to anyone but Octavia and the former acolyte in question. The latter recoiled beneath his subtle venom, casting her eyes to the carpet below as she folded her hands sadly in her lap. Octavia did what she could to put his words aside.

  Josiah raised a second finger. “Number two is getting the Ambassador to the church. Once Seraphim’s Call has a Maestra, she’s going to have to perform the Witnessing as soon as possible. Ideally, guiding the Muse inside the instrument will come shortly after that. That’s our main priority. The Ambassador is a Maestra, obviously, so she at least has some form of protection. It doesn’t change the fact that she’s the Ambassador, and if she dies, that’s the end of that. Navigation isn’t an issue. I’m going with her.”

  Octavia breathed a sigh of relief. The thought eased her racing heart somewhat.

  “That still leaves a need for additional protection,” he continued. “Her situation isn’t quite as strict as Seraphim's Maestra's, but it’s still pretty serious regardless. Getting separated would be a problem.”

  “Are you seriously asking this question? Like…seriously?”

  Renato was on his feet with judgmental eyes and a voice that matched just as perfectly as he crossed his arms. Whatever eyes he drew to himself, abundant as they were, were apparently irrelevant. “If you honestly have to think for more than two seconds about who’s got this covered, we’re gonna need to have a talk later.”

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  “We’ll take care of this one,” Harper said with confidence, offering Octavia a playful wink.

  Madrigal was practically the only person who could challenge the muffled atmosphere of the echoless room as she sprung from her seat, arms aloft enthusiastically. “No harm will come to the Ambassador on our watch!”

  Viola’s soft smile made Octavia's heart skip a beat. “We won’t let you down.”

  They were words for her and her alone, Octavia’s eyes meeting the Soulful girl’s calmly. She, too, couldn’t help but smile. For the briefest moment, she tore her satisfied gaze away long enough to find Josiah’s own, drinking in much the same scene. He battled the faint smile that flickered across his own lips, hunting for his composure once more.

  He inhaled. He exhaled. He raised a third finger. “And number three is going to be the hardest part. Obviously, we’re going to have to get out. By that point, we’re gonna be in deep enough that just retracing our steps might not be an option. That means we’re…more than likely going to have to take it out--all of it.”

  River’s eyes widened. “The Dissonance? All of it?”

  “All of it,” Josiah repeated firmly.

  The distressed murmurs that rippled through the chapel were not subtle, hushed as they were. Josiah blinked slowly.

  “By that point, we should’ve made solid progress. We have the strength for it for sure, collectively. We’ve got a good distribution of legacies. We’ve got four Apexes. We’ve got the Ambassador. In the worst-case scenario, we’ve got the Velrose Acolyte, and Valkyrie’s Call is nothing to mess around with. Ideally, being partnered with another Maestro should help with any stamina issues a bit. Remember, at the end of the day, this…keeps people safe up above. It keeps them from ever having to worry about this stuff getting out again.”

  “Three Apexes.”

  Josiah’s eyes snapped to River’s. River’s own were sharp, unwavering. Octavia gulped.

  Josiah was silent for a moment. Unflinching, he chose his words slowly and carefully. “That’s what I said. Three Apexes.”

  It took another several seconds for River to back down, content to blink at last and observe Josiah’s explanation peacefully. It was true that Octavia benefitted from the power of at least one Apex on her side. It was equally true that she’d nearly forgotten about her assigned secret. She was grateful Josiah hadn’t.

  “I know that was a lot,” Josiah said. “I know you guys probably have questions. I’ll do what I can to answer them, if there’s anything.”

  It took a moment for any hands to rise at all, and Octavia initially believed his points had sunk in in full. A boy she’d never met before raised his hand at last, still bound to his seat. “What do we do if someone gets hurt? What happens if someone ends up Dissonant?”

  River rose to his feet once more, taking over for Josiah. The latter didn’t object. “In terms of getting hurt, there’s slightly more Spirited in this group than any other legacy, and we planned for that ahead of time. There’s not quite enough for everyone to partner with a Spirited Maestro, but we can get pretty close. Be careful, regardless. We don’t want them using their gifts too much if we can help it. As for Resonating, it’s going to be tricky to do while still watching your back. It’s preferable for you to find another Maestro to help you out, if it comes to that. If not, be really, really cautious.”

  “Resonating?” Octavia asked quietly.

  River lowered his eyes. “It’s…restoring a Dissonant person to a Resonant state. You’ve never done it before? You know what it means to be Dissonant, right?”

  Octavia winced. His second question warranted a simple answer. As to his first question, she’d only ever truly attempted once, and in this very church--atop it, rather. To this day, she hadn’t yet been successful. “I-I know what it is, I just didn’t know it…had a name. I knew what being Dissonant meant.”

  He nodded, satisfied. She was grateful when he didn’t press her as to her success rate. Octavia didn’t think she would’ve been capable of giving an answer in a steady voice.

  A different Maestra offered an aloft hand instead. “What are our greatest risks in terms of getting injured?”

  Josiah once more took the lead, counting on his fingers openly with every word. “Dissonance, obviously. We’re in absolute darkness, so friendly fire is a very real concern. Same goes for any personal injuries, like usual. Again, it’s gonna be pitch-black down there, so try to be aware of your surroundings and don’t get hurt by anything around you.”

  “I have a question, actually.”

  Viola’s voice was somewhat surprising, as was her hand in the air. Josiah tilted his head as she spoke. “If…someone were to get hurt by Dissonance itself, what could even be done about that? Being Dissonant I can understand, and I know Dissonance can kill on its own, but is there a…plan for that? Is just…getting someone away from it enough?”

  Again did River interject. “Dissonance doesn’t…always make someone Dissonant. I shouldn’t need to say that. That being said, it takes its time to kill. It’s vile in that way. If the Spirited can intervene before someone hits the point of no return, we can help.”

  “Like a poison,” Octavia murmured, eyes wide.

  River nodded. “Exactly.”

  So, too, did Viola’s own eyes widen in turn. “At the…same cost?”

  “At the same cost,” River repeated quietly. “So try not to be exposed to it directly for too long. There…is a point of no return, like I said. Once you’re past it, we can’t do anything.”

  Viola was silent, the crushing weight of his words falling upon Octavia’s shoulders simultaneously. She wondered how common the knowledge was, given the way even Josiah’s face was strained. For all she’d believed about Dissonance, it was incredibly troubling that she still continued to learn more about violet agony every day. There were newly-born butterflies that swirled in her stomach over the idea of sending people down into a foggy abyss, knowing what she knew now.

  “Anything else?” Josiah asked after a quiet moment.

  Some Maestros shook their heads. Most were still and silent themselves as they clung to his every word. Octavia was no different.

  Josiah closed his eyes briefly. Even after the efforts of all of his well-projected speaking, he still found the strength to keep his voice strong and level. “You’ve all got until morning. If you want to train, train. If you want to rest, rest. If you want to do something to clear your head, do it now. We’ll stay here for the night and meet in this exact room in the morning. If you get lost, one of us that knows their way around this place will come find you, so don’t worry. Do whatever you need to do to get ready to fight. That’s…everything I’ve got. If you’ve got any other questions for me later, feel free to ask. I’ll be around.”

  “I’m here if you need me, too,” the Velrose Acolyte said softly, her voice nearly inaudible beneath Josiah’s firm tone. It was enough to draw at least several eyes from several Maestros as they departed, Octavia’s own included as she lingered.

  Again was she tempted to spill every last one of her apologies to the girl who sat meekly atop the pedestal, an improper usage of a structure meant to evoke grace. Her little legs barely touched the ground, and she kicked her feet back and forth absentmindedly. Octavia resisted the urge to stoop to her level, partially fearful of appearing condescending.

  “Thank you for doing all of this for us,” she offered.

  Allison’s wide, round eyes met her own innocently. “You’re the Ambassador, now, right?”

  Octavia nodded. “Yes.”

  “Is it scary?”

  “It can be, sometimes,” she confessed.

  Allison averted her eyes quietly, kicking her feet harder. “Mommy met the last Ambassador before she died. That Ambassador got to meet Valkyrie’s Call. I haven’t gotten to hear Valkyrie’s voice yet, even though I really want to. I’m excited to meet them, even though I know they have to go afterwards.”

  The news wasn’t a surprise. She’d seen Priscilla’s voyage to Velrose in a toll not so long ago, although there was no conceivable way Allison would’ve been old enough to have met Priscilla--let alone remember her. If nothing else, the visage of the Muse within the bell was a peace she could offer to the little acolyte. She had no other tangible apology to give. “We’ll meet them together,” Octavia said gently.

  Allison had never once smiled since Octavia had laid eyes upon her yet again. She didn’t start now. “Do you think Seraphim’s Call has been lonely without a Maestra?”

  The question hit Octavia in the stomach. For one born of the blossom, she’d hardly expected an acolyte of Velrose to care. “Maybe,” she tried anyway, stifling the waver that threatened her voice.

  “I wonder if Valkyrie would get lonely without a Maestra. It’s sad to think about. I hope that, soon, Seraphim won’t have to be lonely anymore.”

  Octavia clasped her hands together tightly, nearly strangling her own fingers. She absolutely did not dare bring up the extended topic of the flame, of all things, to the very crown jewel of the blossom. It was a controversy she refused to indulge in with a child. “When Valkyrie’s Call leaves, what’s going to happen to the bell tower? I know…Velrose is known for that, I think.”

  Allison shook her head. “We’ll get a new bell. It’ll be a normal bell. Maybe nobody will notice, and I hope everyone is still happy.”

  “Won’t that be harder for you to ring?” she asked sadly.

  “Yes, but I…want to try anyway. I’ll get stronger. If I get strong enough, I can make everyone happy. That’s what the acolyte is supposed to do.”

  Again, Octavia wanted to cry. It was largely Renato who had painted a rough and rugged image of the strength of sound for her. It was a bold and boisterous legacy forged in unapologetic prowess, the likes of which she could only fathom upon the hands of the unrefined. To see its blessing not only coursing through the blood of such a small child, but doing so with such utter grace and delicacy, was equal parts startling and beautiful.

  She was beautiful, every bit as beautiful as her sister. Even if it was the youth of her heart that still blinded her to the ominous relationship of a blossom and a flame, her very heart, too, was perhaps even more beautiful than the late acolyte’s had been.

  “I miss Sonata.”

  There was no way Octavia could keep her tears at bay any longer. She wasn’t the only one, beaten only by seconds.

  “I really miss her. Nobody wants to talk about her anymore.”

  An empty chapel had filled only with the sorrow of the young Velrose Acolyte, bleeding into that of the Ambassador’s in turn. The small child’s eyes swam with tears, unreleased only by the grace of gravity as she raised her head to Octavia.

  “All they want to talk about is being the acolyte. When I try to talk about Sonata, they only want to talk about how nice of an acolyte she was. She was lots of other things, too. She would read to me, and she would play with me, and she would take care of me when I didn’t feel good, and she showed me how to love Valkyrie.”

  The Strong girl’s sorrow fell to the carpet in earnest, dripping onto her pristine robes along the way. “The clergy is nice to me, but all they want to talk about is being the acolyte, too. That’s all anyone wants to talk about. I miss Sonata. I really, really miss her a whole lot.”

  Her little shoulders heaved with sobs. “Do you miss her, too?”

  The bells were irrelevant. The memories of the acolyte’s blistering hands were irrelevant. The cries of her name, the orders to shield herself from the nauseating bong of every vicious toll, the look in her eyes as she fell, all were irrelevant for that moment alone. Octavia couldn’t help that they were there, nor that one name alone could bring back so much she wished to forget.

  There was an acolyte who surely loved that name in her place. There was an acolyte for whom she dared not shun that face, graceful and elegant as it had been. She would put aside the wrongful wrath and that which tainted her impressions in favor of comfort. For how many times in the past several months the Velrose Acolyte’s face had been seared into her mind, she wasn’t entirely lying.

  Octavia practically lunged as she threw her arms around the child, her own tears trailing freely down her cheeks. “I do miss her.”

  She couldn’t save the newest Velrose Acolyte from her sorrow, nor did she dare to steal the girl’s rightful tears as she cried gently in Octavia’s arms. She couldn’t open her mouth to apologize directly. She couldn’t ask how much the child knew of her sister’s demise in detail, well aware that she was the sole witness to the downfall of the blossom and the flame. Octavia refused to ask what it had been like that morning, to wake up from the warmth of her bed and bind her soul to Valkyrie’s Call in the worst way. It wasn’t her right. It wasn’t her place. It wasn’t what her heart could stand.

  Instead, Octavia gave what love she could to the third acolyte she’d forsaken, alive and well as she was. With her heart sinking and her tears flowing, it was the least she could do. At the cost of her life, she swore never to fail the Velrose Acolyte again.