LOGINAria's POV We ran the whole way. Zaron did not shift. Drex had said the sky was full of finders' eyes, and a dragon over the merchant quarter would be a signal. So we ran through grey streets with the light coming up behind the mountains, and I held my side with one hand and felt the faint warmth under my ribs with the other. "Slow down," Zaron said. "No." "You are exhausted." "So are you." "I am not carrying" He stopped. "Say it." "I do not know what you are carrying." "Neither do I," I said. "So we run." Lyra caught up beside me, breathing hard. "I was told there would be fewer stairs in a palace." "You were lied to," said Sorin. "By whom?" "By everyone." My mother and Saoirse were riding in a finder's cart behind us with Corvin at the reins. Veyra slept betwe
Zaron's POVI opened the street door myself.Drex had stepped away from his barrel and stood at my shoulder with his hand on his hilt. I had no blade. I wanted it that way.The lane was full.Forty figures, maybe more, stood shoulder to shoulder in the lamplight. Men and women in plain traveling clothes. No banners. No torches. No weapons that I could see.Every one of them wore a grey cord wound around the left wrist.The cords were smoking."Do not move," Drex murmured."They are not moving.""That is what concerns me."A man at the front stepped forward. Lean, weathered, perhaps fifty. He raised both open hands slowly."Dragon King," he said. His voice was hoarse. "My name is Corvin Hale. I have been a finder for twenty-six years.""You are in my lane, Corvin Hale.""I know.""With forty people.""Forty-three.""Are you here to take something?
Sorin's POVThree shapes came down the stairs.A small neat man with a ledger clutched to his chest. A stout woman in a midwife's apron, her satchel shaking in her hand. And between them, a tall figure in a grey cloak.I knew her before she lowered the hood.My line kept a portrait. One small drawing, passed down for three hundred years, of a woman seated at a council table with her hands folded. The face had not aged by a single line."Veyra," I said.The hall went silent.She looked at me with eyes far older than her face."Nobody has said that name aloud in three hundred years," she said."Who?" Lyra whispered."The Flame Keeper who helped Malachar," I said.Aria went rigid beside me."You are dead," my mother-in-law said. No. Elara said. I was too tired to correct myself."Casten's book says so," Veyra said. "I wrote that entry myself."In its silver cage, the
Aria's POVThey came in by twos and threes, through the front gates, in their best coats.Six hearth keepers had been summoned. Three arrived.Thessaly sat at the head of the war chamber table and said nothing. She did not need to. They had obeyed that voice for three hundred years, and they walked in like men walking toward a grave.The first was a grain merchant named Halvard Brenn. Broad. Grey-bearded. He looked at Maren's ledgers, then at Casten's open book, then at Thessaly."This is the last accounting," he said."It is," Thessaly said."I thought it would be dramatic.""What did you imagine?""Swords. Fire." He sat down heavily. "I did not imagine paperwork.""The worst things end in paperwork," said Lady Maren. She slid a page toward him. "Sign where it says your name."He looked at it for a long time."My daughter does not know what I do," he said."Then tell
Elara's POVMy mother's name came out of that ember like a cold hand on my neck."Saoirse."Nobody moved. Then everybody did.Zaron stepped in front of Aria. Sorin tightened the silver cage. Drex had a blade out before I saw him reach for it.I walked past all of them."Mama," Aria said. "Wait.""I am only going to look at it."I stopped an arm's length from the bars. The ember hung inside, small and grey and pleased with itself."Say it again," I said."Saoirse," it whispered. "Such a lovely name. Such a quiet ending.""You know where she is.""I know where everything unsaid goes.""Do not bargain with it," Thessaly warned. "It only feeds.""I know what it feeds on," I said. "I am going to give it indigestion."Lyra made a strangled sound that might have been a laugh.I kept my eyes on the ember."I was carrying Aria when they told
Drex's POVI have rehearsed this for three hundred years.Never aloud. Always in the dark, in the hour before dawn, in a voice I would not have recognized as mine. I had the words in order. I had the pauses. I knew exactly where he would flinch.None of it helped.The cellar was silent. Zaron knelt on the stone with the Flame Keeper's hand locked in his. Blood in his hair. Eyes the color of old coins. He looked at me the way a man looks at a door he has walked past ten thousand times without trying the handle."Say it," he said."My king""Say it, Drex."I breathed in."She was alive when I reached her," I said. "Her eyes were open. She knew me. She said, *You are late, Commander.*"Something moved in his face."That is how I knew she would be all right," I said. "For about a minute.""Drex.""I am getting there."I looked at the wall. Old habit. Then I







