“WE ARRIVED BACK at San Michon two weeks later, those mighty stone pillars rising from the sunset mists before us. In truth, I knew not how to feel. I’d both failed and flown on my first Hunt. My impatience had bested me, put innocent lives at risk. I’d killed a man with my own hands, and it’s no small thing to be the one who takes a life from this earth. You make the world less by it, and if you’re careless, make yourself less besides.
“But instead of regret, I felt only vindication. That I’d defended God’s faithful from the evil that beset them. That I’d done right. And more and most, I’d defeated a highblood single-handed. I admit I was feeling more than a touch full of myself on that—sitting tall in Justice’s saddle with a smile that never quite left my lips.
“Claude de Blanchet and Vivienne La Cour were both trussed up in silver chains on Greyhand’s horse. The boy’s arm had yet to fully heal from the wounds I’d inflicted on him, and Greyhand had to silence his wails with a gag. But the questions of exactly what I’d done, and more important, how I’d done it, were still unanswered.
“Despite my insubordination, Greyhand paid me a grudging respect—I could tell he was impressed at the prowess I’d shown in taking the boy down. But de Coste’s eyes were full of loathing when he looked at me. My disobedience had seen him get his skull broken by a fledgling, and I’d gone on to thrash its maker unarmed and alone. Aaron had been overshadowed, and I knew he’d have a bone to pick once out of Greyhand’s sight.
“We pulled our horses to a halt outside the stable gates, and I walked inside to fetch the grooms as Aaron and Greyhand unloaded our captive coldbloods. I called out to Kaspar, my eyes adjusting to the dim light of the chymical globes. And in the shadows, I saw two figures, starting as if surprised. The first was Kaveh, Kaspar’s mute brother. And the second, her face paling a little at the sight of me, was Seraph Talon’s assistant, Sister Aoife.
“‘Fairdawning, Initiate,’ she stammered, bowing low.
“‘Godmorrow, good Sister.’ I nodded slowly. ‘Kaveh.’
“The lad lowered his eyes, mute as always.
“‘You are returned from the Hunt?’ Aoife asked. ‘I am told all went well? Archer arrived last week with news of the cargo you carry.’
“I looked Aoife over, head tilted. It was uncommon strange to find a sister of the Silver Sorority unchaperoned in the company of a stableboy. Kaveh was still refusing to meet my eyes. But in the end, I supposed it no concern of mine.
“‘Oui,’ I nodded to the sister. ‘Two highblood fledglings, both of the Blood Voss.’
“‘Wonderful,’ Aoife smiled, straightening her habit. ‘I shall accompany you.’
“The good sister followed me outside, and Kaveh hurried to bring our horses in from the cold. Aaron and Greyhand bowed in greeting to Aoife, and together we ascended San Michon’s dizzying heights, with me hauling the de Blanchet boy and Aaron carrying La Cour. I watched the sister sidelong as the platform rose, but Aoife’s face was stone. Archer wheeled above us, singing to the wind in joy at his master’s return. Greyhand lifted his arm, and as the falcon alighted at his wrist, his lips twisted the closest to a smile they ever got.
“I thought we might report to Abbot Khalid or fill our bellies, but Aoife led us straight to the Armory. As ever, the windows were lit by forgefire, the chimneys belched black smoke—all save one, spitting that thin wisp of scarlet. Awaiting us on the steps was Seraph Talon himself, his greatcoat’s collar laced painfully tight, his ashwood switch in hand.
“‘Fairdawn, Frère Greyhand,’ Talon said in his cool highborn tone. ‘De Coste.’
“‘Godmorrow, Seraph,’ they answered.
“The Seraph of the Hunt looked directly at me, stroking his long, dark moustache like a six-year-old strokes a favored kitten. ‘Fairdawn, my little shitblood.’
“‘Godmorrow, Seraph,’ I sighed.
“Talon gave a small toss of his head, and we four followed him into the Armory. The warmth of the forges was a blessed change from the road, the chymical globes glittering like stars in the gables overhead. The walls were lined with silversteel, and there among the racks, I saw Baptiste Sa-Ismael, the young blackthumb who’d forged my sword. His dark skin was damp with sweat, muscles glinting as he wheeled a barrow of raw coke for the forges. He stopped when he saw us, wiped his brow.
“‘Fairdawn, Seraph,’ he said in his warm baritone. ‘Sister Aoife.’
“Talon nodded, and Aoife bowed. ‘Godmorrow, Sa-Ismael.’
“The smithy gifted the rest of us an impeccable grin. ‘And a fairdawn to you all, brothers. Returned in triumph, I see?’ He looked to the sword at my waist. ‘How did Lionclaw fare on her maiden voyage, de León? Slay me something monstrous?’
“‘She was piffed out a window by a bent priest, brother. So, I fear not.’
“Baptiste glanced toward Aoife and grinned. ‘Well, it sounds like you gave her an adventure, at least. Ladies do enjoy that sort of thing.’ He slapped my shoulder with one warm hand. ‘Have no fear, Little Lion. God will grant your chance to do his will.’
“Bloody hell, I liked Baptiste. And I wasn’t alone. De Coste lost all trace of his usual arrogance when in the blackthumb’s company. Even Greyhand looked close to dropping his customary scowl around the young smith. Baptiste had a smile that felt made just for you, a rich laugh, a good soul. But he glanced to Talon as the seraph cleared his throat.
“‘I see you’ve business to attend, brothers. I’ll not keep you from God’s holy work. We can share your tales in the refectory tonight over a glass.’
“‘Or a bottle,’ Aaron countered.
“The smithy laughed, dark eyes flashing. ‘By the Blood. Tonight, mes amis.’
“We nodded farewells, and followed Seraph Talon and Sister Aoife to an area of the Armory I’d not visited before. Massive silver-clad doors barred the way, opened with a silver key around Talon’s throat, and beyond, a large room of dark stone awaited us. The taste of old blood laced the air. Tall ceilings lit with chymical globes arched overhead, the walls covered with anatomical illustrations of coldbloods, faekin, and other monstrosities. But the room was dominated by a large apparatus, the likes of which I’d never imagined.
“It seemed a kind of forge, dreamed in an unquiet mind. A serpentine nest of pipes surrounded a row of large stone slabs. Channels were carved into the stones in the shape of the sevenstar, and on half a dozen, I could see the emaciated forms of vampires, bound in silver. Many were wretched, but at least one was highblooded—a pretty monsieur with long hair of Ossway red. Their flesh was lifeless grey, withered like old fruit. Silver tubes had been stabbed into their chests, and I could hear the drip, drip, drip of blood into glass jars.
“I glanced to Aoife beside me and whispered, ‘What is this place, Sister?’
“‘The Scarlet Foundry,’ she explained. ‘The hearts of coldbloods do not really beat, you see. And without a pulse to drive it, their blood goes only where they will it. The Foundry is the most efficient means of harvesting their essence, and thus, producing the greatest quantity of sanctus.’
“Looking around the room with jaw slacked, I could feel a strange current crawling on my skin. This device seemed born half of science, half of sorcerie.
“‘De Coste,’ Greyhand said. ‘De León. Make our guests comfortable.’
“Aaron and I obeyed, placing our captured coldbloods on the slabs. Both were gagged and blindfolded, but a low moan of agony slipped over Vivienne La Cour’s lips as Aoife fixed silver manacles about her wrists and ankles. As her flesh began sizzling, I had to remind myself again that these things weren’t anything other than leeches wearing human skin.
“‘From the punishment they withstood, they’re definitely Voss,’ Greyhand said.
“Talon nodded to the boy. ‘This was first of the brood?’
“‘Oui,’ Greyhand nodded. ‘Frightening little bastard for a fledgling.’
“‘Poor soul,’ Aoife sighed softly. ‘He’s barely more than a babe.’
“‘Never to become a man,’ Greyhand scowled.
“‘We will examine him thoroughly,’ Talon said, with rather more relish than was comfortable. ‘Flame shall reveal whatever his blood does not before he leaves us for hell.’
“Aoife made the sign of the wheel. The seraph glanced down at the boything’s forearm, still scorched from my touch. I saw him exchange a glance with our master.
“‘You two.’ Greyhand turned to Aaron and me. ‘Go get yourselves bathed and fed. We may be ahunt again sooner than you think. De León, I’ll be arranging extra duties for you until we depart San Michon again.’
“‘… Duties, Master?’
“‘Starting amorrow, you’ll report to the stables before each dawnmass and muck out those pens until they’re spotless. I’ll inform Kaspar and Kaveh tonight. I’m sure our young grooms will enjoy the extra hour sleep your labors will avail them.’
“I blinked in disbelief as Aaron stifled a triumphant smile.
“‘I’m to shovel dung every morn? I took down this thing single-handed.’
“‘Disobedience has its price. You think I’m being unfair?’
“I bristled with the indignity of it, but gave a stiff bow. ‘No, Master.’
“‘Good. Off with the pair of you. I’ll follow presently.’
“‘By the Blood, Frère.’ De Coste bowed. ‘Seraph. Sister.’
“Aoife smiled farewell. Talon nodded vaguely, still peering at little Claude’s arm as Aaron and I marched out into the freezing eve. Standing on the Armory steps, I gritted my teeth, trying to hold my temper. I’d disobeyed Greyhand, no doubt. And despite capturing the de Blanchet boy, I knew I deserved punishment. But this?
“De Coste dragged his hand through his grubby mop of blond and smiled. ‘Up to your shins in shit every morn, eh, Peasant? It’ll be just like home.’
“‘Speaking of home, how’s your mama? Tell her I miss her, will you?’
“De Coste turned to face me. As he stepped close, I noticed that even though he was older, I was almost as tall as him now. Able to meet his pale blue stare.
“‘Close your eyes,’ he said.
“Aaron’s words slipped into my ears like the cleverest knife. Not the velvet gunshot of that darkling boy’s command in Skyefall. Something subtler, and more frightening. It was forbidden for palebloods to use their gifts on each other, and part of me raged that he’d dare to do so. But for the rest of me, it seemed the most reasonable thing in the world. Aaron is your friend, came a whisper within. You trust him. You like him.
“And so, I closed my eyes.
“His punch took me right in the belly, and all the breath left my lungs. I sank to my knees on the Armory steps, holding my aching gut.
“‘You h-hit l-like a lord,’ I managed.
“‘I don’t like you, you ill-bred little bastard.’
“‘You m-mean this isn’t a … m-marriage proposal…?’
“Aaron loomed over me, sharp teeth at the corners of his mouth. ‘You made a fool of me in front of Greyhand. I owe you fucking blood for that. Our master might be content to have you swing a shovel for a while, but I surely won’t be. Now that he’s not around to watch your back every minute, you’d best sleep lightly, frailblood.’
“Aaron spat onto the steps beside me, stalked off to the Barracks. He’d broken the laws of San Michon using his bloodgifts on me, and I was half-tempted to throw a parting jab about his cowardice. But truth told, I was just glad he’d left me the fuck alone. I’d caught that glance Greyhand and Talon had exchanged, and I wondered if the seraph knew something of the wound I’d inflicted on the de Blanchet boy.
“With Aaron’s eyes off me, I aimed now to find out. So, I simply flipped the Fathers at his back, and holding my bruised belly, stole back inside the Armory.
“My heart was racing, but all those nights I’d spent stealing out to Ilsa’s bedroom came back to me in a flood. I could still be a stealthy bastard when I chose, even without warm lips waiting for me at the end. I crept through the weapon racks, low honeyed lights shining above. And soon enough, I was crouched back outside the Foundry doors.
“Peering inside, I saw Greyhand and Talon beside little Claude’s body. Sister Aoife was on the other side of the room now, busy at the Foundry’s workings.
“‘… large infestation considering the time this maggot spawn had to hunt,’ the seraph was saying. ‘It only turned two months ago, you say?’
“‘Almost three,’ Greyhand nodded. ‘But, oui. The blood runs thick in this one.’
“‘Interesting that the leech who made it abandoned it?’
“‘She may not have known the boy Became. Apparently, she departed in haste.’
“‘Mmm.’ The boything shrieked behind its gag as Talon slid one of those silver-tipped tubes into its skin. ‘And this burn on its arm? Archer’s message said it was of import.’
“Greyhand glanced to Aoife, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘The boy did that with his bare hands.’
“‘De Coste?’
“‘De León.’
“Talon scoffed. ‘That water-blooded little cockgobbler?’
“‘Those wounds were inflicted two weeks ago,’ Greyhand said. ‘They should have healed at next dawn, and yet they linger. When I burst into the room, I could still see the blood boiling under this leech’s skin where de León touched it.’
“‘… Boiling? You’re certain?’
“‘I saw it. I smelled it. You know what this is, Talon.’
“‘I know nothing of the sort.’
“‘Damn you, open your eyes, man. This is sanguimancy.’
“Crouched at the doorway, I felt my whole body tense. I’d no understanding of the word’s meaning, but the way Greyhand whispered it sent a chill through my aching belly. I could hear wonder in my master’s voice now. Wonder, and fear.
“‘Impossible,’ Talon hissed. ‘That line is extinguished. Centuries past.’
“‘Centuries are nothing to these creatures. What if the stories are wrong, Talon? Or lies?’ Greyhand glanced to Aoife, lowering his voice further. ‘De León failed every testing in the Trial of the Blood, but we never tested him for this. What if the leech who seeded his mo—’
“‘Then we should take him to Heaven’s Bridge right now,’ Talon growled. ‘Cut his throat and give him to the waters.’
“Again, I felt a surge of butterflies. I’d been taught there were only four kith houses. Voss. Chastain. Ilon. Dyvok. Had I heard aright?
“Were they talking about a fifth bloodline?
“And was I … one of them?
“I pressed back against the door. I wasn’t sure if my chest had fallen into my gut, or my gut had leaped into my chest. My master had lied to me when he said he’d no idea what I’d done to the de Blanchet boy. And Talon was talking about ending me. I wondered if I should run for it. Just head back to the stables, saddle up Justice and bolt.
“‘We should do nothing rash until we’ve spoken to Khalid,’ Greyhand whispered. ‘I am the boy’s master. He’s impatient. Arrogant. Far too keen for glory. But he’s one of the finest swords I’ve trained, and he took down this highblood alone, drugged to the eyeballs on rêvre. If what I suspect of his line is true … he could be the greatest of us, Talon.’
“‘Or the most terrible.’
“‘Is that not for God to decide?’
“‘God helps those who help themselves, old friend.’ Talon leaned on the slab and sighed. ‘You are the boy’s master, and I’ll not gainsay you. But if Khalid bids we end him…’
“Greyhand nodded, grim. ‘So be it. We shall speak to the abbot after duskmass.’
“The taste of iron and adrenaline was heavy on my tongue. I slipped away before Greyhand could spot me, stealing back across the Armory. Out the doors, dashing across the rope bridge to Barracks, my head swimming with all I’d heard.
“A hidden gift named sanguimancy.
“A fifth bloodline of the kith.
“What did it all mean? Why did Greyhand speak of them with fear? And could I really be born of this mysterious line, and not the frailblood Talon had marked me for?”
Jean-François dipped his quill in the ink jar, chocolat eyes on his tome.
“Could you not simply ask Abbot Khalid?”
“Fuck no,” Gabriel scowled. “All I’d heard, I’d eavesdropped. Greyhand had lied to me in Skyefall. God Almighty, Talon was willing to take me to the Bridge over this. Besides, it wasn’t in my nature to go bleating to adults when the road got rocky. You grow up with a stepfather like mine, you learn to solve your own fucking problems.”
Gabriel’s thumb traced the small, raised ridges of the sevenstar in his palm.
“So solving my own problems was exactly what I set out to do.”