I touch the two gold pins on my worn black tunic, two sets of Vaia’s blue eyes, the eyes of Death immortalized in sapphires. My own necromancer’s pin and Evander’s. I can’t remember who gave it to me, but I’m never taking his pin off so long as I wear mine.
Everything I do is for both of us now.
X
The night of Evander’s funeral, as those finished paying their respects are leaving the graveyard for Lyda’s manor, I climb to the highest point in Grenwyr City. Partly because I can’t stand the thought of ever setting foot in the Crowthers’ home again, even to collect the few belongings from my drawer, and partly because the steep walk reminds me of how much Evander loved to hike. Besides, I can’t go back to my palace room to sleep. Not until Danial delivers more of the bittersweet potions that lull me into a dreamless haze where I float for hours, high above the nightmares’ grasping fingers, sometimes watched over by that silent shadow of Evander that only seems to appear when there’s potion in my veins.
Fastening my cloak tighter to guard against the bitter night’s wind, I sweep left out of the graveyard’s main gate, away from the fading murmurs and sobs of the mourners. There’s a single hill thatpeeks up above the palace and offers a bird’s-eye view of the sea and the entire city, and that’s where I’m headed.
King Wylding hates the unnamed hill, because he doesn’t believe anything should be taller or more imposing than his family’s ruling seat. I’m not sure I like it either. It makes me think nature wanted to remind the king that there will always be some things outside his control, just as some things are maddeningly outside mine.
Jax and Simeon follow me up the hill at a distance, trailed by Danial, who’s still in his healer’s whites and who gasps for breath like he’s never hiked before. He comes from the flattest part of Oslea, where there aren’t many hills to speak of.
Behind Danial, so far down the path that the babble of their voices is barely noticeable, Kasmira and her crew make a slow ascent to join us. I was surprised to see them at the funeral, as I never got the impression any of them were close with Evander. But Kasmira, who sat right beside me despite a lot of grumbling and muttering from the nobles, tugged a lock of my hair and whispered, “It’s not the dead we came for, lovey.”
The moment I reach the top of the hill, I sink down on the flat, worn boulder Evander used to claim as a seat whenever we came up here, and stare at the starry sky. Jax sits far apart from the rest of us, his back rigid and his expression unreadable. He’d known Evander even longer than I did.
I roll onto my side, the boulder digging into my ribs, to watch Kasmira and her crew make a bonfire on the middle of the hilltop. A tall, stately woman named Dvora drops an armful of kindling inthe space the men have cleared, and Kasmira pulls out a piece of flint and a dagger to create the first spark of flame.
“Master Cymbre should be here.” Simeon watches the kindling catch fire, his face as lean and hollow as an elf’s in a children’s tale.
Danial puts an arm around Simeon’s shoulders and draws his sandy-haired lover against his side. “I’m sure she’s remembering Evander in her own way tonight,” he murmurs. “I went to give her something for her headache earlier, and...” His voice grows so soft, I have to strain my ears to catch the last words. “She feels like his death is her fault.”
“It’s no one’s fault.” Simeon hides his face in his hands, a gesture that makes my heart ache even more.
I understand how Master Cymbre is feeling. I keep thinking, if I’d just let him go into the ravine first, the Shade would have grabbed me instead. Evander would’ve had time to flee, or maybe even fight—after all, he’s the better swordsman. Or was.
I wipe the wetness from my cheeks and lick the salt from my lips, surprised I haven’t cried my eyes dry in the last several days. The potion must be wearing off.
“Guess this means you all won’t be returning to the Deadlands anytime soon.” One of Kasmira’s crew, a burly mate whose name I can’t remember, draws my attention as he plunks himself down opposite Simeon and Danial.
“Maybe,” Jax grunts without looking toward the fire. He still hasn’t moved from his spot on the far side of the hill, where he’s no more than a solid outline in the dark.
Simeon glances toward his partner, his brows raised, but Jax says nothing more. “There’s still the matter of hunting the giantShade.” His face is barely recognizable without his usual good-natured grin. “It’ll have to be stopped, and I expect King Wylding will order Jax and me to take care of it, since he knows us best. I won’t agree if he expects us to go at it alone, though.” He twists one of the gold rings on his fingers, seeming lost in thought. A few moments later, he adds, “Twenty of his best archers and several vials of liquid fire potion to light their arrows ought to be enough.”
Danial presses his lips together and shakes his head. Though he doesn’t say anything, there’s a storm brewing in his kohl-rimmed eyes. Simeon is definitely in for a long night of arguing.
I wish I could save them the trouble and heartache. But if they knew about my plans to go into the Deadlands and kill the Shade myself or die trying, they’d probably lock me in a room for all eternity and say it was for my own good.
So I’ll keep my silence until I leave. Just as soon as I stop taking these calming potions and have my wits about me. Because when I return to the Deadlands, I need to make sure I stay alive long enough to watch the monster die.
“Sparrow?” Kasmira’s voice cuts into my thoughts, making me wince. Her lips are pursed. When I meet her eyes, she gestures to the fire and asks, “Why don’t you say a few words?”
I stagger to my feet and take an unsteady step toward the fire. My throat is too tight to allow any words to come out, but I pull a crumpled piece of parchment from my back pocket. A map of Grenwyr Province, one Evander had been working on practically since we met, detailing all our favorite places. I clench my hand around the parchment until it’s little more than a tiny wrinkled ball and toss it into the flames, then fall to my knees in the grass asEvander’s dreams rise into the night sky on puffs of smoke, vanishing like the rest of him.
No one speaks again for a long while. Kasmira passes around a flask, but it’s too much effort to raise my hand to take it.
Eventually, she and the crew make their way back to theParadise, and Simeon douses the fire before he and Danial stumble down the hill to bed. I sit in the cold grass, watching smoke from the fire’s ashes curl into the velvet black sky, until Jax climbs to his feet and offers me a hand. “Coming?”
I nod but push myself to my feet without his help. We trudge back to the palace as the sky lightens to a misty gray. And when faced with the choice of returning to my dark, empty room or following Jax into his, it doesn’t take long to decide.
“Sorry about the, uh, mess.” Jax kicks his spare cloak out of the narrow entryway. There’s another pile of clothes on his bed—unwashed, by the sharp, spicy scent of them—that he shoves aside to make a place for me to sit. Two lanterns flicker to life, then Jax grabs the wooden chair from his desk and sinks into it, facing the bed.
Hugging my knees to my chest and pushing my back against the wall, I try to get comfortable on the lumpy mattress. The lanterns don’t shine bright enough to illuminate the far corners of the room, which is just as well because it looks like Jax keeps his life’s belongings stashed in careless heaps.
I blink, realizing I can’t remember the last time I was in here.
Feeling Jax’s gaze on me, I clear my throat and point to the wardrobe at the back of the room. “You know, they gave you that so you could put your thingsinsideit.”
