For a moment I wasn't sure I'd heard Master Sirro right. "What do you mean?"

"The Alverac is wild magic, Nelle. It's savage and merciless. But most of all it's wilful. Not many of those enslaved with the Alverac lasted very long."

"I thought it simply bound me to Graysen's will."

"Yes, it does. However, it doesn't work the way you'd think, simply forcing you to submit to his command. It's treacherous. Temperamental and impulsive. An artless, innocent thought can trigger its authority."

Oh gods...

The pedestal felt as if it were rocking beneath me but that was my knees knocking together and almost buckling. "I didn't know."

"I don't believe even the Crowthers suspect the extent of how dire it is."

His eyes narrowed on the rope once more. Falling into deep thought, he stroked his chin, his elegant fingers cutting through the dark bristles of his beard. He muttered in a distracted kind of way, "Your twentieth birthday is less than two weeks away, whereupon the Alverac will bind you to Graysen forever."

I swallowed and my throat felt like it had been sliced open with razor blades. My voice cracked. "Can it be reversed?"

He loosened a heavy sigh, dropping his hand down to sweep outward in a gesture of futility. "There is nothing I can do once the wild magic locks your souls together." His eyes met mine and I went rigid at the sly cunning gazing out at me. "There is, however, something I can do before the Alverac becomes final."

I knew exactly what he was going to offer. The same thing he'd offered the night of Evvie's engagement. We'd danced together on parquet flooring to modern music bent to a classical style. He'd revealed enough of the Alverac's truth to frighten me then, enough of it to have me spinning around and running to my parents to learn the awfulness of its full truth. Out on the dance floor, he'd offered me a deal. The answer was more air than voice. "You'd get rid of Graysen permanently."

He inclined his head: a yes.

"There's something I'd have to give in return for your help," I said now, much like I had last time he'd offered. "So what do you want?"

"I think it'd be the same suggestion I made to you last time," he said, his voice silken and inviting.

I'd warm his bed for the night.

Do it, do it, do it—I urged myself.

But, I hesitated.

I wasn't as mercenary as the Crowthers. I'm sure they wouldn't hesitate in agreeing to the deal. And either choice wasn't going to truly save me. I'd either be working here at the Emporium or servicing Sirro.

Gods, what shall I do?

What answer would I give the Horned God?

I stood on the pedestal and the stone felt like a block of ice beneath my feet. A chill seeped in through the soles of my high heels, the leather too. In this oppressive heat, I was bone cold.

Would I end Graysen's life or save it?

I was so far gone in thought that I startled when cool, smooth fingers cupped my chin. Master Sirro tilted my head down and angled his head back, standing so close his breath swept outward to curl against my lips, a ghost of a kiss, spiking a rush of elicit pleasure. "It's admirable how you still protect him."

"I'm not—"

"No lies between us, Nelle."

Internally I cringed. A burst of stinging pain sliced through my heart and tears dewed on my lashes. "How can I?" I whispered, my chin quivering and the words breaking apart.

"How could they?" he countered, spoken just as softly, with a pointed look toward Jett conferring with his aunt. He leveled a grave look upon me. "Think on my offer, Nelle. Tell me your answer the next time we meet."

And then before I could even open my mouth to say yes or no or stay, please stay, he'd turned away and was gone, walking across the rooftop at a swift pace full of purpose. His Familiar followed behind, but Sarnia remained.

As I watched Master Sirro disappear into the darkness, his sonorous voice reverberated through my head. My heart thundered with each word as it echoed around in the chamber of my mind.

The Alverac is wild magic. It's savage and merciless. But most of all it's wilful.

You'll not survive the time between your birthday and the Witches Ball.

***

I was pelted by a score of sensations like raindrops drumming upon the surface of a pool of water, splashing, sinking, deepening the well of emotion.

Nelle, Nelle, Nelle...

Something's wrong, wrong, wrong...

Loose stones crunched beneath my boots as I trudged through the tunnel. Chilly air swirled against my skin as I spun a wyrm dagger around and around in an effort to deal with my increasing worry for Nelle. My skin sweltered and then burned cold. Prickled with arrogance. Itched then soothed. Grew clammy with despair then erupted into a scorching heat of fury. Nelle's emotions changed so swiftly, trying to make sense of them was like catching a zephyr with only my fingers as snares.

Unease strummed every taut nerve in my body like an out-of-tune lyre, and that feral thing hissed through my bloodstream. I swore I almost felt a creak of bones and a twinge of pain stinging up my arm as a phantom sensation caught my wrist and clawed in deep. If Yezekael's physique wasn't as tall and cumbersome with the wings, I'd have slung him over my shoulder and dashed for the surface of the Catacombs to dump him at Sirro's feet. At least then I could head straight for the Keep to find out what the fuck was going on with Nelle.

My brothers...

My aunt.

In the back of my mind, both were a concern. More than a concern. I wasn't sure what was going to happen when my aunt returned home from her assignment of keeping surveillance on the other Houses, specifically the Pelans. I knew what Jett was waiting for—word that Jurgana had arrived at the Emporium. A shiver trickled down my spine at the memory of the last time I'd been at that creepy fucking place.

A voice, feminine and curious, jolted through me and cleaved apart my unsettled thoughts. "What do you think Sirro wants with him?"

Sucking in a breath, I darted a sidelong glance to find Mela leaning closer, but her gaze remained locked on Yezekael's back and the drooping leathery wings pincered together.

Mela had tracked my whereabouts and arrived earlier with a swarm of Văduvas and Crowthers. My Second, Jiao, had remained in Yezekael's nest with the medics and the majority of our combined forces helping to transport the wounded topside to get them to their estates and infirmaries. Now, Petra led our lumbering procession through a passageway with water drizzling down its walls and seeping along its pitted floor. We traveled as quietly as we could through the catacombs, heading upward, carefully avoiding nests of krekenns and slumbering serpents. Petra's rough voice was pitched low but her barked orders still rang through the tunnel along with the sound of footfall splashing through pools of water, jingling metal, and the rattle of chains.

I frowned, my eyes narrowing on Yezekael limping ahead of us, the tips of his wings dragging on the wet, gritty ground. His shoulders were hunched and rounded in both pain and defeat. There was no escape for the lesser creature, and he fucking knew it.

"No idea," I replied to Mela, though I planned to get a little pushy with Sirro and get an explanation as to why he'd been hunting the lesser creature for so long. The frayed glow of Mela's flashlight skimmed the glistening walls and bobbed over Yezekael. He was sandwiched within our numbers. Magic crackled and spat from the handcuffs locking his wrists together, his wings were pinned, and his ankles were hobbled with chains so he couldn't get away. I didn't actually think he had it in him. After the Uzrek had thrust the lesser creature at me and shuffled away into the darkness, Mela arrived. I'd removed the harnesses strapped to the winged creature's chest that held the pouches filled with fuck-knows-what, and tossed them aside. With the help of one of my men, we'd cleaned the bleeding wound as best we could, administering a poultice before binding the tattered wing with strips of cobwebby bandages. Yezekael had withstood us fussing with his wound, his body slumping as his limbs trembled. Beads of clammy sweat broke out over his ashen skin. I wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to fly again, but that wasn't my problem.

I raked my fingers over my bristly cheek to scratch away the flakes of dried blood crusted in the stubble. Exhaustion limned every inch of my body. I was at a loss as to what hour it was and how long I'd been in the catacombs. Time was meaningless without the sun or moon to guide me and the journey to the surface was slow and agonizing with the creature dragging our pace. But in truth, I wasn't even sure I had it in me to push at a faster pace. Physically, all my wounds had healed, but I felt as if I'd been hit by a truck and then run over a few more times to ensure I was fucking done in. My feet felt as if concrete were tied to my ankles and it was an effort to even lengthen my stride. Reaching for my shoulder, I dug my fingertips around the collarbone and gently massaged an ache away.

Yezekael glanced behind him as he'd done every so often while we'd made our way wearily through the tunnels. He surveyed me through moon-crescent eyes in a stretched long face. The look was considering, curious.

My nostrils flared as I glared back, spinning my wyrm blade faster. Fear swept over his tense features and he jerked his head around to face forward, limping a little quicker.

Mela cleared her throat before she carried on speaking to me. "Listen, Gray, there's something I need to tell you." My gaze sliced back to her, and my fingers clamped down on the hilt of the dagger, stopping its spin. Unease rose at the low urgency in her voice, the hesitation. I cocked an eyebrow with a look of expectancy as I patiently waited for her to elaborate as we continued to walk through the tunnel. She glanced furtively over her shoulder before she met my gaze, her dark brown eyes wide. "There's gossip running rife around the Houses. They've put two and two together. At Evelene's..." Her voice broke and she ducked her head quickly, running a shaky hand across the crown of her head, the braids dirty with dust and tiny chips of stone. "A-At her engagement c-ceremony..."

Wretchedness crushed my heart. It hurt to see her in pain. I immediately reached for her, knowing how hard it was for her to think of or even mention the slaughter at the temple. My hand wrapped around her long, cold fingers. I squeezed gently and she squeezed back. Our pace slowed and I bowed my head closer to hers, bringing my mouth to her ear so I could whisper, "As soon as Evelene gives the word we're going to get Elyse back, you know that right?"

She nodded, then sniffed, swiping at her eyes with the heel of her palm. Her eyes were still bright with a film of unshed tears when her gaze lifted to mine. Her soft nose wrinkled when she tried to grin and hit me playfully in the arm, her mouth parting to say something no doubt self-deprecating to lighten the mood, but I stopped her. "Don't bother, Văduva. We've known each other since we were knee-high." And we'd become best friends then too, after we'd slipped away from our governesses at a House Gathering to go off and play soldiers in an orchard, using overly ripe peaches as grenades. I slung my arm across her shoulder and said softly, "If you need to cry, cry."

Mela refused to. Her quivering mouth was pinched into a hard line and she curled her hand into a white-knuckled fist, then uncurled it, back and forth, until she'd contained her misery. "I'm good," she rasped.

No, she wasn't. I didn't even need to taste the lie on my tongue. It was visibly clear she was barely holding it together.

"Mela..." Fuck. I'd put a lot of extra responsibilities on her shoulders because I needed her help to sort out this mess I'd gotten Nelle into. I needed her to do it for me because I couldn't ever learn of the cottage's location. And I needed someone I trusted implicitly, who'd stop me from later hunting for it. Clumps of sweat-fused hair skimmed my knuckles as I dragged my hand holding the dagger across my head. "Why don't you take some time out from all of this? I can handle what I asked—"

Mela swiveled out from underneath my arm and grabbed hold of my bandoleer, the startling movement cutting me off from what I was about to say. She yanked on the bulging leather strap and my upper body jerked forward as she dragged me closer. Anger now raged in her eyes like a wind-fanned fire, growing wilder in her gaze. "I need this, Gray. I need to keep working to keep myself distracted."

I understood. My whole family did. We knew what that meant, to keep busy, and how it helped. Though it felt wrong, I nodded once, puffing out my answer on a guilty breath. "Okay."

She let go of the bandoleer but kept her hand pressed to my chest and tapped her fingers in time with the words. "Thanks." Her eyes softened. "I don't know exactly what's going on but I do know you. I know it's important I do this for you."

Emotion formed a hard lump in my throat and it was hard to swallow. "Thank you."

A smile, a real one and full of pride, brightened the gloom as she leveled it at me. "You're changing the game."

Fuck yes, I was. Like she'd suggested to me weeks ago, I'd become the third player.

A breath later, foreboding washed through me, cold and damp like mist as I watched her bright smile dim and fade. Wariness entered her gaze as she scanned my face, her brows drawing together just before she whispered, "You do know there's going to be a loser in all of this?"

The ominous note to her tone, the somber gaze, felt like a tolling bell.

Deep down, I'd always known that too.

I just hadn't wanted to face the truth.

My head felt like lead had been poured into it when I nodded.

She pushed back a step, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, giving me a tight, small smile. Knocking her elbow into my arm, she angled her chin toward Yezekael's retreating back. "Come on," she urged, pushing into a hasty pace to catch up with Yezekael and those ahead of us. I matched her stride, and in a low voice, just beneath the loud sound of footfall, Mela continued with what we'd just been talking about. "You need to know that the Houses are whispering amongst themselves about the fact that Mistress Lyressa stole Ferne's eyes. They're questioning the car accident."