I froze. I looked at Anya again. I realized that the relief she had felt when I touched her wasn't healing; it was the siphon finally getting a taste of what it was designed to steal. She was a puppet. A living bait-hook.
"How observant of the Dragon," Alistair said, his voice now as sharp as a scalpel. He didn't deny it. Why would he? He had an army behind him. "But does it matter, Kaelen? Even if it is a trap... the girls are dying. I am draining them. And I will continue to drain them until Seraphina opens the gate. One by one, I will extinguish every Architect in the Syndicate until she gives me what I want."
He looked at me, his eyes full of a dark, twisted joy. "So, what will it be, Doctor? Will you save your own soul and let your sisters burn? Or will you surrender to the Lords and let them live?"
