“I’m sure he does.” Calder laid down a card, watching the raven’s reaction. It ruffled its feathers twice. Pip immediately played a winning combination.
“Wait.” Calder’s head snapped toward the sprite. “Did that bird just?—”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Pip said, but her wings fluttered so fast they became a blur.
“The raven is signaling you.” Calder pointed at Corvus, who had the audacity to look smug. “That’s why I keep losing. You’ve recruited a cheating...bird!”
Lucette burst out laughing, nearly falling from her chair. “Oh my Furies! You’ve been getting destroyed by a sprite and a raven working together.”
“For three days!” I added, unable to help myself. “Though I’m pretty sure Silas was helping yesterday.”
“Corvus,” the Oracle said with perfect serenity, “is simply expressing his natural curiosity. It’s not his fault if Pip happens to be observant.”
The raven cawed once, sounding distinctly pleased with itself.
“I’m done,” Calder announced, taking the last bite of his bacon. “I refuse to play against cheaters.”
“Aw, don’t be grumpy!” Pip flew over and patted his shoulder. “You taught me strategy! Now I’ve taught you about... getting creative with resources.”
“Using a bird as a spy is not strategy, it’s—” He stopped, then shook his head with something that might have been a smile. “Actually, itwasfairly clever.”
“Thank you!” Pip beamed, her adoration of Calder restored.
A knock at the door made us all freeze.
Two sprite messengers, both in silver and black uniforms, both with trembling wings, hovered at the threshold. “Messages,” the first one squeaked. “For Syneca Black?”
When I raised my hand, he flew over and handed me the sealed envelope.
“And for Lucette Varrow?” the second sprite said, before darting forward to give Lucy hers.
The wax seal on my envelope bore Tiberius’s mark. Of course it did.
The sprites zipped away before anyone could ask questions.
I broke the wax seal, aware of everyone watching. The message was brief. Brutal in its simplicity.
Since you have been unable to fulfill my order to investigate the docks, you will be seen at tomorrow’s semi-final game. You’re to wear your uniforms and play the part of loyal patrons of your Magistrate. The people haven’t seen you sinceyour oath began. Remind them you are still alive, or I’ll decide which of you shouldn’t be.
My hands clenched, crumpling the parchment.
“What does it say?” Wickett asked, moving closer.
“We’re all attending the Nexus games tomorrow.” I kept my voice flat. “Mandatory appearance. In uniform. The Magistrate wants to remind the city we exist.”
“Or remind them he owns us,” Calder said quietly.
Lucette broke the seal on her own letter, and I watched her face change as she read. Grief. Then resignation. Then something harder.
“My parents,” she said quietly. “They’re taking Draven’s body back to Noreya for Final Rites. They want to see me before they leave. To say goodbye properly.”
The room went silent. We hadn’t discussed her brother.
“When?” I asked.
“Today. This afternoon.” She folded the letter with precise movements. “They leave on the evening train.”
“The Magistrate might—” Pip started.
