“The Borderline Bands,” I whispered. Nobody hated Clan heirs as much as them–but they loved Clan gold.
“They were strewn among the Serpent soldiers,” he said gravely.
I exhaled hard. “They don’t have enough power to wage a war or infiltrate Clans. They would have killed us long ago if they’d been able to.”
“And they were among the first ones sent to slaughter in the war. The Butcher kept most of his Serpent troops behind and protected behind the veil. My guess is the Borderline Bands are wrapped up in a scheme they don’t fully understand, their minds warped like Nadya’s.”
“So then who?” I asked when the ugly moment stretched too long. “Who is after us?”
The question which had been haunting us since the attack at the wedding. Who was mad and bold enough to rattle two of the greatest Clans in Malhaven?
“I don’t know.” Frustration bristled his energy. “But whoever this blasted heir is, he’s been working in the shadows undisturbed for too long.”
“He’s older than us,” I said. “Then why not kill us when we were younger and defenseless? It doesn’t make any sense.”
“Maybe he was waiting for something. Or needed something.”
“Something like gold?” My eyes widened. “The Protectorate vaults.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he began tentatively.
“I probably will, but I appreciate the warning nonetheless.”
“The Serpent vaults were much more primed for the taking than the Protectorate’s,” he said gently.
“Yes, we’re broke.” Especially now, but it’s not like we were rolling in gold before. I licked my teeth. That gold, which belonged to the people of Aquila, had been stolen and squandered to destroy us. Sickening. “Perhaps we were an easier target.”
“Or someone from the inside made you one,” he said.
“We were betrayed. You were betrayed.” We locked eyes. “Who has that kind of power?”
“Who has that kind of hatred?”
“Or envy. If he considers himself an heir, then he thinks he’s owed something just because.”
The worst Clan successor imaginable–one who hadn’t earned their power and used it for evil.
The sigh that ripped from him warmed my forehead. “How could Nadya be so loyal to someone who deserves so little of it?”
“Hey,” I said softly, my free hand grasping his shoulder. He leaned into the small touch, like his entire body had been waitingan eternity for it. “The seeds which have been planted cannot be destroyed.”
“No, but I was supposed to sway their growth,” he muttered, shaking his head. “How did everything go so wrong?”
“You wanted to see the good in Nadya. Wanted to help her. You can’t blame yourself.”
“I can.” He let out a mirthless laugh. His energy shook with anguish. “She–she was supposed to kill me, but murdered my mother instead.”
I clenched my jaw to keep from whirling a curse Nadya’s way. I wouldn’t reward evil with a blight on my soul.
“She could have been lying to wound you,” I said as soothingly as I could.
“Does it matter?” He shrugged, exhausted. “She died in the plague. So I have her death, the children’s, and Geryll’s on my hands. Just because I decided to shelter a starving child.”
“You cannot blame yourself for someone else’s actions.”
“Have you stopped blaming yourself for your father’s death?”
I sucked in a breath, mouth drying.
