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Nurse Verne mentioned it, and I can’t stop imagining it—a force so powerful it could erase companies of soldiers in moments, their Light helpless against a Dark that powerful. I’ve wondered for years how my father, one of the strongest meigas of his time, an unmatched deadly force for good, fell against the Dark. He seemed so unstoppable when I was a child. He’d been to war before, and he’d always returned. And then he was just . . . snuffed out. Quick as the wick of a candle. A mountain of a man. It didn’t make sense.

But if this is what meiga forces are facing beyond the mountains, if this is how lethal the Dark truly is, shouldn’t we know? Shouldn’t Gossemort be prepared?

Van Asten’s eyes cut to mine. “Verne told you about that as well, did he?”

I hesitate. I don’t want to get Nurse Verne in trouble with his employer.

My godfather sighs. “There is a rumor of a weapon some refer to as the Great Nightmare. But I will warn you, Vesper—fear and rumor are often more deadly than reality.”

“But is it—”

He lifts a hand. “That’s enough of that. You’re still a student. I am an Elder of Gault. You are not privy to every detail of this war. Not even I am.”

Lord Van Asten turns and focuses his attention on the circular stained glass window that overlooks the ambo. The candlelight shines up ominously on the faces of the matron Saints of Gossemort. They call them the Sisters of Necessity, arbiters of destiny. Finally, Lord Van Asten speaks. “Vesper, you’ve had the benefit of a . . . unique education.”

“Yes, sir,” I reply.

“No one, and I mean no one, can do what you do. You’re special, Vesper. You should be proud.” It’s meant as a compliment, but it only hurts. I am not proud. I’m confused, ashamed, trapped . . . but I am not proud.

I can feel Lonan’s eyes on me. Neither of us should exist. Wielding both Dark and Light magic shouldn’t be possible, and it’s definitely forbidden. But the Dark can do things the Light cannot, and my godfather is fighting many battles on many fronts. He needs every advantage.

He’s been careful with my education. Sprinkle a little wickedness on a lifetime of miracles and, well . . . he prays the Saints don’t take notice. I try not to pray at all, lest I draw their attention. I feel the grim eyes of the Sisters looking down in judgment.

“Yes, sir.” I can hear the words he’s thinking, like his mind is my own. He needs me to be able to do both. He needs Gossemort, and all of Gault, for that matter, to have some bite. I’m the teeth. “I’m sorry,” I add, because I can’t stand the silence.

“I know.” The candlelight reveals new lines on Van Asten’s face. The streaks of gray in his beard and long hair have broadened in the last year, and Saints help me, I think of my father as he would look now. They’d be a pair—a couple of grumpy middle-aged men. But their friendship was cut short.

He looks so exhausted, like he hasn’t slept in days, and I want to ask him how he is, if he’s eaten, whether he’s been sick. But now isn’t the time. He leans toward us and lowers his voice. His eyes soften as he says, “I brought you both here because I believe you can do marvelous things. The others might not understand your gifts. Not yet. But one day Gault will be grateful for all you do for it.”

This is the contrast of him—the mind like a sharpened dagger and the heart of a father. When my father died, his lawyers told us that he’d left the responsibility of the estate to me upon my turning twenty, not to my stepmother. She was livid. His body was hardly in the grave before my stepmother had me removed from my old room and locked in the attic. When Lord Van Asten came to visit me, he was so furious I thought he might do something horrible to my stepmother. Instead, he told her that she should be thankful my father had loved her, and he left with me. He took me here, to Gossemort, and let me run wild in its halls until it was time to start my own education.

He wearily drops into the front pew. Eyes on the visages of the Saints, he says with a strange note of sadness, “Lonan, leave us. Vesper, sit down. We need to discuss something.”

FIVE HOURS TILL MIDNIGHT

LONAN

I am a bastard.

Lord Bernard had his hands around her neck, and I lost my mind. I couldn’t think, blinded with rage. Before I even knew what I was doing, I’d buried my sword in his intestines. I’m glad he’s dead—good fucking riddance.

But then she tried to take the fall for me. I don’t know what to make of that. Half of our days I think Vesper would gladly see me tossed into the woods and left to the fiendlings. And now she’s in that room with him—likely receiving the consequences of my actions.

He is my teacher, my mentor, and the closest thing she and I both have to a parent. I should trust him with her.

I don’t.

Chapter Six

Ihave trouble breathing evenly as I trudge back to my dormitory. My limbs feel heavy. And that familiar numbness settles over my broken heart like snow.

I’m not allowed to go to the Solstice feast. My last one. It shouldn’t matter so much, but truthfully, shame is what drags my feet like shackles as I climb the long, winding stairs to my dormitory tower. He’s so, so disappointed in me, more than I expected.

My dormitory is at the top of the northwest tower, a long trudge up a spiral staircase, past the rooms filled with younger girls. I catch some of them glancing my way as I pass their open doors. They sit on their beds yammering together, an air of excitement about the end of term palpable even from the hall. Their eyes are wide when they see me—a little fearful and a little admiring. I remember looking at the seniors that way when I first arrived. They seemed like small gods to me then, when I was still so unused to my magic.

Now I know better. I know that the closer we get to graduation, the more we feel doom opening its wide, toothy mouth over our shoulders. We’re all terrified of what it means to be a meiga in Gault. Events like the Solstice feast are bright spots of joy in a school meant only for war.

“There was going to be cheese,” I mutter miserably as I swing open the door to my dormitory. Inside, a pair of ravens perched on my desk startle at my sudden entrance.