Viri couldhearthe reaper gnashing his teeth. He wanted to lie—she could see it in his eyes. He wanted to claim some level of importance in the Priest’s inner circle, something that might afford him leverage. But the fillium wouldn’t allow it—another benefit of the golden cord, so long as it touched him. A magical truth teller.
“You’ve never even met him, have you?” Viri continued taunting.
More gnashing of his teeth, and she rolled her eyes, her tension fading. Any mention of the Reaper Priest—the current one, at least—was always enough to set her on edge, but despite this man’s threats, he didn’t know anything of use to her. He was nothing more than a follower, like all those Viri had hunted before him.
One day, she would find a way to his leader. It was the reason she’d become a hunter, the reason she’d earned her mark quicker than other novices, the reason she always pushed herself to be better, faster, stronger. Everything she’d put herself through for the last seven years had been with one single goal: to hunt down the Reaper Priest, the notorious monster of a man who had murdered untold numbers of innocents.
Including Viri’s parents.
Unlike his underlings, the Reaper Priest wouldn’t face justice. No, he would suffer.
Though not nearly as much as he deserved.
For a moment, Viri allowed herself to sink into her dark thoughts, her determination strengthening, as it always did whenshe thought of the Priest. But then she squared her shoulders and started forward again, tugging her captive toward the wayportal, ready to hand him over to the Nox and be done with this night.
She would find the Reaper Priest one day.
And when she did, she would finally have her revenge.
2
A few painfully short hours later, Viri was pulled from sleep by someone shaking her roughly, followed by a too-chirpy voice asking, “Did it work?Did it?”
Viri groaned and swatted at her best friend, Wynter Starling, before moving her pillow over her head. “ ’S too early, Wyn. Go’way.”
“It’s not early, and you’re a little traitor.” Wynter yanked the pillow away. “You promised to wake me when you got home.”
“It was late.” Viri opened her eyes into a squint-glare. “And unlikesomepeople, I value my friends’ sleep.”
“I don’t need sleep—I need answers. So spill.”
When Viri tried to reclaim her pillow, Wynter tossed it across the room and returned Viri’s glare with her own, causing Viri to grumble resignedly and sit up in bed. Wynter was right about the hour; a quick look out the sealed window of Viri’s bedroom halfway up the side of Mount Tembris—the middle of three peaks in the Tridus Mountains—showed enough sunlight to indicate it was midmorning, at least.
“Meera’s going to kill me,” Viri muttered, having slept throughher dawn training. Not even the calming view of Lake Mirtis glimmering in the sunshine could ease her dread at the thought of having to apologize to her mentor—who also happened to be the head of the Hunters’ Guild.
Wynter tossed her glossy black hair over her shoulder, her sapphire eyes narrowing as she threatened, “She’ll have to get in line if you don’t hurry up and tell me what happened last night.”
Viri knew her friend wasn’t asking for an overview of the hunt, nor did Wynter care about the reaper who was now rotting in an Underlock cell deep beneath the mountain. There was only one thing Wynter wanted to know about Viri’s night.
“Comeon, V. I’m begging you. Did itwork?”
Viri made her friend wait a beat longer—punishment for the rude awakening—but with a slow smile, she finally said, “It worked. You’re a genius. But you already know that.”
Wynter threw her hands up and let out a whoop of triumph. But then, just as quickly, she hushed herself, her eyes jumping anxiously toward the closed bedroom door.
“I take it your mom is home?” Viri guessed dryly.
Wynter chewed her lip and nodded, causing Viri to bite back a grin. Sarielle Starling—Wynter’s mother and Viri’s legal guardian—wouldnotbe pleased if she learned what her beloved daughter was doing in her free time. As it was, Sarielle claimed she had a heart attack every night Viri went out hunting, so if she knew her daughter was experimenting with the highly illegal practice of alchemy, she would be horrified. Not just because Sarielle was the Magistratus—the political leader of Elverdine Isle—but because alchemy was dangerous, in too many ways to count. And yet…
“You saved my life last night,” Viri admitted, recalling thereaper’s dagger just a breath away from impaling her. “Your impedidust kept me from being sliced in two.”
Wynter’s strikingly blue eyes widened. “Really?” she breathed. But then she tilted her head to the side, her gaze homing in on Viri’s cheek. “Was that before or after you were sucker punched in the face?”
Viri touched her swollen, scabbed flesh, wincing as it throbbed beneath her fingers. “Does it look that bad?” When Wynter didn’t answer, Viri pressed, “On a scale of one to ten, how much is your mom going to panic?”
“If she walked in here right now? Eleven, for sure.” Wynter pulled a small glass jar from inside her gray trainee-physician robes and winked conspiratorially. “But if you put this on and wait a few minutes, that’ll bring it down to a three. Maybe atwo.”
Viri took the familiar—and forbidden—healing salve from her friend and slathered it over her tender cheek. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”
