Jade stared at Rasmud. “Again?” she asked the medicus, who held a syringe over her left arm. Her right one already sported more than ten holes, and her skin was a patch of yellow and purple.

The second day of her imprisonment at the Academy had mirrored the first so far, down to Maarlo escorting Jade to the infirmary and waiting in the corner for the medicus to finish his probing and testing.

Rasmud didn’t answer her. He seldom did, working silently under Maarlo’s oppressive scrutiny. The assassin shook his head at Jade which could mean anything from “don’t bother,” to “shut up.” The scolding didn’t affect her, but it obviously bothered the medicus, who grabbed Jade’s arm before she raised it for him.

In complete silence, the medicus drew three whole vials of blood, offered her some disgusting concoction to drink afterward, and finally said, “You can rest for a few minutes while I check your vitamin levels.”

Feeling cold, Jade straightened her tunic over her legs before lowering herself to the narrow medical bed. She gave her back to Maarlo, keeping her gaze on the medicus, who tinkered with ampules and glass containers he shook from time to time.

“You need iron,” Rasmud said after a good ten minutes had passed. He reached for one of the mechanical IV stands lining the wall, attached a bag to its prehensile arm and rolled it all the way to Jade’s bed. “You’ll feel more energized.”

The medicus motioned for her to lie on her back as he positioned the end of the metallic arm over her hand. The arm whirred to life, and its tubular end opened, revealing a ring of needles that descended fast, piercing her skin.

Her first reaction was to jerk her arm away, which prompted the needles to drive deeper into the back of her hand.

“Don’t fight it,” Rasmud suggested, patting her shoulder.

“Don’t touch me unless necessary,” she growled, giving him a death stare.

Removing his hand at once, Rasmud stepped back. “It’s a low-drip treatment,” he said, looking behind Jade.

“How long will it take?” Maarlo left his corner and walked around the bed, stopping before Jade.

“Three hours.” The medicus adjusted the mechanical arm, easing the pressure of the needles, for which Jade was grateful.

She had experienced unbearable pain during her long career as an assassin, excruciating agony of an order of magnitude that wasn’t even comparable to the mere inconvenience of an injection, but needles always set her on edge.

“She should be back in her cell already,” Maarlo muttered.

“Stuck with babysitting duty isn’t fun, ah?” Jade said, noting how Maarlo’s hand kept going back to the handle of his dagger as he stood slightly angled toward the exit.

“Enjoy the reprieve while you can,” Maarlo said, looking down at her with undisguised discontent.

A vigorous knock on the door prevented Jade from adding a witty remark. Maarlo strode to the other side of the room and pushed the swinging panel open, revealing Marika, who didn’t enter but remained where she stood, casting glances at Jade.

Maarlo stepped in front of the girl, hiding her from sight.

“He’s on his way and will arrive shortly,” Marika whispered before Maarlo admonished her to lower her voice. They exchanged a few more words, and finally he turned, letting the panel swing back on its hinges. His expression had changed from mildly annoyed to downright furious.

“She’ll get it done tomorrow.” Maarlo pointed at the mechanical arm. “Remove it.”

“But she needs the iron therapy,” the medicus said.

Maarlo closed the gap between them in a few angry steps, his hand grasping at the metallic end of the arm.

“I’ll do it.” Rasmud stepped in front of the bed and raised one hand to stop Maarlo from yanking the ring of needles from Jade’s hand.

“Hurry.” Maarlo moved back, keeping his dark gaze on the medicus, making the man visibly tremble.

“I need to deactivate the sequence,” the medicus said, pushing a button on the arm before walking to the wall where the mechanical arm was attached to the rest of the clockwork IV stand.

Maarlo’s attention was on the medicus. Recognizing the first chance she’d had since her kidnapping, Jade acted on impulse, wrenching the tubular end of the mechanical arm from her hand before Rasmud turned off the machine. As blood spurted from her skin, the needles whirred, descending lower, looking for flesh to anchor itself. Maarlo whirled at the new high-pitched sound, and Jade pushed the mechanical arm up, shoving it with all her might against his eyes. The needles hooked their tiny, prickly ends into Maarlo’s face, digging deeper as he clawed at the mechanical arm.

Screams echoed in the room as the air filled with the metallic smell of blood. Jade jumped off the bed and ran for the door, smashing her body against the panel and hitting Marika, who stood behind. The girl went sprawling to the floor, and Jade hammer kicked her solar plexus hard before she could react. Surprise and shock showed on the woman’s face as the sound of breaking bones piercing internal organs mixed with her last choked breath.

The familiar geography of the place helped Jade navigate the labyrinth structure of the Academy as she ran toward the hangars.

As soon as she rounded the first corner, she came face to face with a surprised assassin. The man’s hesitation caused his demise. Jade hit his throat with the edge of her palm, choking him, before delivering a swinging kick to his head, severing the skull from his already damaged spine.

A second assassin entered the hallway. Jade punched his hand as he reached for his blade, sending the weapon skittering to the floor. The man kicked her, buckling her knee painfully. Falling, she reached out, grabbing the man’s shirtsleeve. They both landed on the floor, the man on top of her, his strong hands around her throat, cutting off her airways. Black dots soon danced before her eyes. Her wounded hand patted the cold marble tiles, searching for the man’s blade. Jade ignored the pain, forcing her fingers to stretch until they met with the edge of the weapon. With one last effort, she grabbed the blade and shoved it into the man’s chest. His hands relaxed around her throat, his mouth opened in a silent scream before gurgling blood, and he finally collapsed against her.

Jade emerged from under him, resuming her escape. Her heart in her throat, she pushed her body to its limits, following the less-traveled paths. As soon as she found the first service door, she exited the infirmary wing to take the service hallways, where only mechanical workers resided. Darkness permeated the narrow corridors because their inhabitants didn’t need illumination. Jade had memorized every bend and every exit of the service wing when she was a recruit and in need of a reprieve from the likes of Maarlo and his sadist followers.

Her hand throbbed, blood gushing anew from the torn flesh. She didn’t stop to look at the damage she had inflicted on herself when she yanked the needles. Instead, she pressed the back of her hand against her chest, staunching the wound as best as she could, pressing forward, one step after the other. She needed an aircar, and she couldn’t stop until she reached the hangars.

With that goal in mind, she ran, following the meandering passageways with her other hand brushing the wall for guidance.