Cadence was still dressed in white infirmary robes as she scoured the recruits quarters for her brother. She must look terrifying—white robes, pale skin, platinum hair. What she looked like was the least of her worries now. She could always dye her hair back to gold, powder some color into her cheeks and change into recruit robes.

She found her brother leaning over the balcony she had slid down during the Great Tradition. His shoulders were hunched, his weight placed on his right leg.

"Hey." She sidled up next to him.

Her brother did not speak. Instead, he swept her into a tight embrace and placed his head on top her hers.

Panic clouded her thoughts.

This is not Taras, not Taras. This is Cole, he won't hurt me.

Cadence hugged him back, feeling his heart flutter against hers.

He was alive. A small smile tugged at her lips. Alive and well.

Cole smoothed her face with his thumbs, running his eyes over her face.

"What have they done to you?" he whispered.

"It's over now." She focused on her brother's eyes.

Your brother might be alive, but he isn't fully alive. You have turned him into a monster.

Cadence tried to find a flicker of darkness in his eyes, anything that might prove Ales right. She couldn't find it. In the swimming brown light of his eyes, there was only concern and relief. Cole was still there.

"You brought me back." Her brother's hand went over to his chest were Taras had stabbed him.

"I should have told you what I really was," she said. "I-I shouldn't have lied to you. There are so many things you need to know. I was scared."

Her brother's expression did not change. "You know you can tell me anything, right? We're siblings, siblings don't hide secrets from one another."

Unless it is a matter of life and death. Cadence looked away. "Do you remember the Rakasha that broke our home?"

"Until the day I die," Cole said. "What about it?"

Cadence told him. She didn't stop; she couldn't—the words flowed from her mouth. She told him about how she had made a deal with a Polong, about her dreams, her Affinity, and what the Walker Hunters truly wanted. She told him about Ales and Taras, she did not leave out Khazaria's death or the torture in the dungeons where her flesh was cut from her body, piece by piece, her bones broken and sealed back together again.

When her story ended, there was stony silence.

"I wish I couldn't feel anything," Cadence said. How she wished it was true—her nerves ripped out, or she could take a drug that would take away her emotions, anything to prevent from feeling the intense sickness in her stomach whenever she saw a blade in someone's hands. She wanted to be able to hug her brother without recoiling at the prospect of touching another human being, it was as if her body had been wired to defend itself from further harm.

"It's not your fault," Cole said. "Your mind was not your own. Is he still in there?"

Cadence shook her head. Kazimir had not made a single peep. It was quiet up there, too quiet. Perhaps she was unused to having her thoughts back to her own.

When you bonded with Zoroth, you have ripped the piece of Kazimir inside you out of your Soul. He no longer has a hold over you.

"Why aren't you angry?" He should be furious. She was the reason everything was the way it was now.

"It's not your fault."

Cadence broke down. Her heart shattered into a million pieces, each piece breaking into yet another million pieces—an impossible mosaic of pulverized slivers. She had caused her brother to die, and she had brought him back. Where was the sense of relief and redemption she was supposed to feel? The burden pressing against her heart was still there, anchored like a huge block of stone.

What was the point of bringing back any one of them if she could not feel forgiveness? Her goal had been a lie. Everything had been a lie.

"It's alright, shezinka." Cole brushed away her tears. "I'm here."

She could imagine Kazimir snickering in her head, asking her the question she feared the most.

Did you bring him back because you love him, or because you wanted to be able to forgive yourself?

She did not answer.

Cadence no longer saw reason in bringing back Master Orelik, Khazaria, or even her father. Kazimir was right. She only wanted to resurrect them to free her from the prison she had locked herself in. Bringing her brother back had made the truth crystal clear.

They're dead. They're long dead. They were people caught in Kazimir's game, just like you were. What really matters is you and your brother.

Cadence stared at her brother's face.

If Silverbird couldn't help her, she wanted to remember his face. She committed his freckles, the little mole under his chin, the way his dark hair flopped on his head, into memory.

She needed to find Silverbird as soon as possible. Both she and Eli did not have much time. He was haunted by a curse, she was hounded by time. Cadence could feel Heil and Bhail breathing down her neck, they were the two right-hand man of Lord Valador. Heil would record the misgivings and kindness of the living, scribbling everything into the wooden notebook that held the lives of every human while Bhail held the chain of truth which was used to drag Souls into the Underlands.

Cole would assume she was on her way to the Hall of Spirits, but he would never know she was traveling secretly with a noble in search of a notorious witch-doctor. She hated herself for lying to him again, but it was necessary to keep him safe, to prevent him from overturning everything she had given up for him.

I love you. She wanted to tell him so, but she couldn't bring out the words. Thank you for being my brother.

She would cross the Region of Spirits, she would find this Silverbird, and she would find a way to restore her Shell.

I'll make it back, she promised. When all is over, we'll move out of this bloody place and settle in a small village at the edge of Moskava. There, we won't have to worry about Varya or Murka, nobility or peasants. Just you and me.

She would try to put everything she had suffered at the hands of the Walker Hunters behind. It seemed impossible right now, for everywhere she looked, she saw Taras with a scalpel in his hand.

I'm safe, I'm with my brother.

She blinked the nightmares from her eyes.

*****

"So."

Eli's hands were crossed on his lap as he sat next to Cadence. "You're a you-know-what."

"Are you going to hate me because I am one?"

The young noble sighed. "I'm not one to discriminate. My grandfather was enough."

They were sitting in the open air in the recruits' compound. During the winter, the compound was closed. The benches were slick with ice, the trees weighed down heavily with piles of snow, and the pond had frozen over. Now that Spring was here, she took the chance to redecorate the lands according to her imagination. Spring loved brilliant colors—reds, greens, pink, blue, yellow and gold. Pink buds peeked from the dense green leaves of bushes and trees. There were even ducks splashing in the lake.

Eli turned to his left and faced Cadence. His eyes settled on her white hair, then went down the scar on her face. Her recruit robes had covered the scars on her forearms, she didn't want Eli to see them. They were her secret, and she did not need his pity. Kashimi's was enough.

"You've changed," he said simply.

"You should have gone to see Silverbird," Cadence said. "You know what is at stake."

"A host does not abandon his guests," Eli said in the most pompous, noble attitude ever.

"Oh, shut up."

Eli's hand reached for her hair. She recoiled.

The scalpel, the knife, the sound of her bones breaking.

He dropped his hand at once. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

Cadence shook her head.

"Why did you give up your Shell, Cadence?" Eli asked. "You have surrendered yourself to a slow and sure death."

She knew the answer, yet it contradicted everything Ales had taught her. Ales had wanted to bring his family back, then rebelled against his idea wholly and gave up his life to defend it, but she understood why he was willing to work with the person he despised the most. Like Ales, Cadence had no one else in the world. If Cole was gone, there would be nothing worth living for, nothing that would tether her to the world. Yes, she would be alive, breathing and moving, but she would lose herself.

Screw the natural laws. If others could torture and kill their way to attain what they wanted, why couldn't she give up a part of herself to obtain the one thing she loved?

You were wrong, Ales. If the Dewas truly wanted the dead to stay dead, they would never have granted us with the power to challenge them.

"Cadence." Eli waved a hand in front of her face.

"He's my brother," she said, voice burning with fierce protectiveness.

"I know." Eli's gaunt face was dimmed with sympathy. "But at what cost?"

Together, they watched the evening sun dip below the horizon. It was nothing like the ball of blue, frozen light in the sky which Cadence had seen for the past few months. This held a majestic golden hue, hopeful almost.

Cadence touched her scars, letting her fingers slide down to her bracelets. She thought about what she had lost—her father, her ever-irritating Mistress, her job, her mundane home in Azrapol, her mentor, and the little shield of ignorance she had wrapped around her before it was shattered into a million splinters by Taras. Then she thought about what she had gained—her brother, an Affinity. It was measly if compared to what she had lost, but what remained was enough to keep the fire in her simmering.

"We should plan and prepare." Eli stood up.

Cadence followed suit, but her knees gave way and she fell sprawling onto the grass.

"Are you alright?"

Eli scrambled to her side. She tried to stand up, but she couldn't feel her legs.

Was this what it felt like to lose her Shell? The weakness was involuntary, her strength was snapped away, as quick as lightning before it returned.

"I'll help you inside."

He offered Cadence his hand. She stared at it, then she looked at the genuine kindness in Eli's blue eyes.

He is not Taras, a small voice whispered. He will not harm you.

Cadence slid her hand into his and allowed him to pull her up.

Small steps, the voice said. Small but sure steps.

It was all she could ever ask for.