Pa shakes his head.
“There’s no mark. It was a dream, and not a good one.”
“Share your research, then. The ikonomancers will figure it out.”
“Vesper. See what they’ve done with all the power at their fingertips. You want to give them more? Will more power make them care more? Do more? Be better in any conceivable way?”
I shoot Dalca a pleading look, and though he frowns, he obligingly steps back a few paces.
“Why didn’t you listen?” Pa hisses. I grit my teeth, my hands itching to shake him. How? How does he think this is a good time to scold me?
“I came to save you!”
“Who’s going to saveyou?”
“Between us two,” I say, gesturing at him in the prison of rock, and me standing on my own two feet, “who looks like they need saving?”
He makes an abortive movement, like he would’ve thrown his arms up if they’d been free. “Whenever you’re ready, go ahead. Commence with the rescue.”
“Do you really think there’s no hope left?”
His answer shines from his downcast eyes. “I—I’m sorry. For giving you this world. For bringing you into this mess. I never wanted that for you. I wanted you to be free.”
“I’m part of this world, Pa. You can’t change that now.”
“You’re right.”
“Will you give him what he wants?”
“I know him, Vesper. His kind has ruled for hundreds of years. No, I won’t give him anything.”
Dalca steps up. “Ragno Haveli has the Regia’s ear. He’s the one pushing the Trial, and if he has his way, you won’t be alive tomorrow. I have very little power here—not when the people hunger for a Trial. I don’t want to see you die—for Vesper’s sake, and also because I think you have the key to saving us all. The Illusora blood runs in my veins,it’s true, but do you think there’s the slightest chance that I might be more than my blood?”
“I’d like to think that, but no, son. I don’t.”
“Pa—”
“I...” He turns a little misty, as if he might sayI love you. “I hope you’ve done what I asked.”
I shake my head. “Pa... when did you decide you’d given up?”
He looks at me with the disapproval I know so well. “It’s not about giving up. I know how this ends. We can’t win... It’s fate. I’ve accepted it. I’ve made peace with it.”
Dalca presses his palms into his eyes, taking a slow, measured breath. “You haven’t just accepted it. You’veensuredit.”
Dalca strides away, anger in each step, but I linger for a moment, catching one last glimpse of Pa before the dark swallows him up. His head hangs low, the picture of a defeated man. And yet he’s won. He’ll never help Dalca. Not even for me.
We’re silent on the way back, but Dalca turns on his heel once we’re back in my chamber. “We’ll try again, tomorrow morning.”
We can try, but I know Pa. “Dalca... What if he doesn’t change his mind?”
“Then we go to the Trial. And watch our last hope throw his life away.”