Page 98

“Yes.” His shoulders drop and he suddenly looks a decade older. “She was caught by Wands and dragged back to stand immediate trial. By the time I heard what happened, she had been convicted of treason.”

“But why would she try to bring the wall down?” I think about the scars on Nero’s body, the stories I’ve grown up hearing from sailors who traveled the rivers to Perphodia and Grexium. “The wall is the only thing protecting the city from the wilds—and the monsters that hunt in the wilds. Without them, there would be a slaughter.”

“I know.” He brushes his fingers over the box. “She didn’t tell me her plans or why she believed bringing down the wall would benefit the gods—or anyone, for that matter. After she was convicted, all access to her was restricted until her execution.” His voice gains a ragged edge. “We said goodbye moments before I killed her.”

He really did love her. Nothing I’ve seen of this man, terrifying though he is, has indicated that he’s a liar. As surprising as what he’s revealed today is, I believe it to be truth.

I clear my throat. “And the box?”

“I found it in a place that held great meaning to us. She had clearly hidden it before she went to the wall, which indicates she knew it was an impossible mission.”

Then why did she risk it? The gods have been distant since time out of memory. Why was bringing them back so vital that she’d risk her life? I don’t ask. He clearly doesn’t know, and there’s more than enough pain in this room without adding to it. “I’m sorry.”

He meets my gaze and answers one question I didn’t even know to ask. “After she died—after I killed her—I chose to play my role to perfection. It took months before the Minor Court stopped watching all the Cinque, waiting for each of us to turn treasonous like our ally. By the time I felt safe enough to look for you, you were gone.”

I take a step back. “What?”

“Mouse took you and hid you from me—from anyone who would think to dig into Osprey’s past.” He’s still looking at me too intently. “I have no doubt he did so to protect you, and it clearly worked, but I would have delivered your mother’s last gift to you a long time ago if I’d been able to find you.”

“Mouse … took me.” Revelation after revelation, each shattering the ground I thought was solid beneath my feet. Before the Trials, I would have said Mouse never lied to me. But he didn’t tell me about the Wands part of the Trials. We’d moved several times when I was young, always unexpectedly and always in a rush. Were those times Death’s search had brought him too close? “But why would you look?”

“For the same reason he took you.” He finally turns away, releasing me from his stare. “You are the last part of Osprey walking this world. He loved her just as much as I did, albeit in a different way. We both thought to protect you. It remains to be seen if he did a better job of it than I could have.”

I don’t know how to process that. My entire life has existed beneath a set of rigid truths, and Death just unraveled them in a single conversation. It’s true that Mouse did his best to keep me safe, but we were in the Dregs with no resources to speak of. And he started training me so young …

What barriers I have are dust. It’s the only excuse for asking the one question destined to crack me wide open. “Did you know the Star would kill Nero?”

He flinches. “No. The plan was to eliminate the High Priestess and the Wheel of Fortune. The Tower—Nero—was a strong ally and had similar goals for Caelria. He would have been invaluable as a member of the Cinque.”

Each inhale and exhale hurts as if I’m breathing fire. I don’t know if this revelation makes the sensation better or worse. “You should have killed the Star. She was more of a threat than Vesper.”

“That remains to be seen. She’s dead and Vesper has ascended to become Cinque. The Swords now have three votes instead of two, which may very well weigh the scales in their favor for the first time in decades.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I’ve moved among the Minor Court for nearly as long as you’ve been alive.” He meets my gaze. “I know you have a fondness for the Sword, but it would be a mistake to trust them. They will side with their court every time.”

Maybe. Maybe not. I can’t bring myself to regret that at least Vesper and Cato lived. Maybe I’ll even appreciate it at some point, if my grief ever has the chance to dull. I turn back to the box. The scroll waits. A scroll from my mother, written in her hand. “Thank you for telling me all this.”

“Be wary, Kestrel.” He turns to the door. “The danger hasn’t ended with the Trials. It just wears a different face.”

The Wands’ demonstration more than proved that, but I appreciate the warning all the same. He’s almost through the door when I say, “Death?”

“Yes?”

“What is your name? Your real name?”

He pauses long enough that I think he might not answer. “Adder.” Then he’s gone, striding out the door and into the warm afternoon sunlight.

I wrap my arms around the box and take it back to my room. Priestess is nowhere in sight, which is a relief. I’m feeling too raw to interact with anyone else right now. The scroll crackles faintly as I unroll it. The note is relatively short, written in a delicate hand. My mother had beautiful handwriting. I run my finger lightly over where she wrote my name. With a deep breath, I sink onto my bed and read.

My dearest Kestrel,

I miss you desperately with every day that passes. We thought we knew the risks in entering the Trials, but the danger is so much more explicit. I trust Mouse to keep you safe, but I’ll not make his task more difficult by drawing the wolves to you. Not after the Wands made it clear the lengths they’ll go to control the members of the Cinque.

There’s so much to say and so little time. If you’re reading this, then I’m no longer living. I’m so sorry, my love. I wanted nothing more than to be there for you, but I am no longer my own person. I have the entire city to think of.

The Minor Court would see worship of the old gods eliminated entirely; a slow, inevitable slide into obscurity. The gods aren’t gone, Kestrel. The Moon speaks to me. They tell me of the imbalance created by the primordial elements, of how it can be rectified to benefit everyone, not just those privileged by an accident of birth. I will be Their instrument in making things right, even if I don’t survive the act.