There is a moment, after all the battles have been fought and lost, when the choices of monsters no longer matter. A moment when the gilded cage and the key to the abyss look exactly the same. They are both paths dictated by others, a maze designed by her captors.
Her mother's map, a secret legacy of hope, lay on the table. It was a path of patience, of careful planning. It required supplies she did not have and time she could not spare. Every tick of the clock was the sound of Clara's suffering, a sound that had become a roaring in Isadora's ears.
Hope was a luxury. Action was a necessity.
And so, in the dead, silent heart of the night, Isadora made her choice. She would not take the Duke's path. She would not take her mother's. She would take the third, the most terrible and direct of them all. She would take the serpent's road. She would use the power of one monster to fight another.
She became a shadow.
