The next morning, I woke up to familiar laughter outside my door. I cracked it, expecting some trick of the Door, and found Basil and Mack eating in the doorway to Basil’s room. They were a few doors down, but I could smell the jellied eels from here. Mack, locs up in a bun speckled with new silver cuffs, was eating with the look of a wolf fed turnips. Basil nibbled the filling out of a hand pie.
“Like them?” asked Basil.
“They’re great.” Mack poked at the eel cuts in his paper cup, and I wandered down to them.
“They’re an acquired taste,” I said, taking the cup from him. His fingers felt real, and the cup was definitely real. “What’re you doing here? Can’t be flirting. You’re no good at that.”
Mack opened his mouth, clucked his tongue, and looked away.
Basil grinned. “Don’t worry,” they said. “If Carlow had come out here, I would lose my words too.”
The door to her room slammed open. Basil jumped. Carlow, wearing only a gauzy dress and the sticky remnants of sleep about her red eyes, raised a mug to Basil. Wine sloshed out of it.
“Bold to invoke me,” she said, “when you know damn well I do everything out of spite.”
Basil sniffed. “Is that mourning wine?”
“It is morning.” She sniffed the mug. “I thought this was my tea…” She vanished back into the room and reappeared with a different mug. “You never invite me to parties.”
“You hate parties,” said Basil. “And this isn’t one.”
“Then be quieter.”
The door slammed, unnecessarily, behind her.
“That’s our cue to leave.” I tipped the last of Mack’s eels into my mouth and tossed the cup at Carlow’s door. “He’s got a sweet tooth, by the way. Not much for salty things.”
“I’m fixing to kill you.” Mack grinned, though, and flicked my shoulder. “Met Basil this morning in the market and needed to see you. I think you should talk to Jules.”
We said goodbye to Basil and left for Noshwright. Mack’s stoic expression kept dropping. I looped our arms.
“What happened?” I asked quietly.
“A lot we didn’t know about.” Mack shook his head and sighed. “Will’s all right with dying. He says he made his peace with being sacrificed the moment you left Felhollow, but Julian’s not handling it well. It’s a lot for him to take in on such short notice, and I don’t agree with Will. It’s putting a lot of things in perspective.”
“Like Basil Baines,” I said. “Never known you to make the first move.”
Mack laughed through his nose. “They’re the only good part of Mori, no offense.”
“Offense taken but understandable,” I said, squeezing him tightly. “People still deserve happiness even when the world’s a mess.”
“It’s a right bigger mess than we figured. Killing Alistair wasn’t all Will was up to.”
I nodded. “All right. No more talking till we get to Noshwright.”
We walked quickly. Mack kept his face down but his eyes up, taking in every inch of the palace grounds. I pressed close to him, worry shaking gently through me, and kept pace. Trying to assassinate Alistair and letting me sign that contract was bad enough. Will had doomed us both.
Will and Julian were waiting for us in the dining room. The table had been cleared and the ledgers organized, a map of Cynlira laid out like a tablecloth. Pins sprouted all across the country, mostly in larger cities, and a single one pierced Felhollow. Will rose when I entered, and Julian let out a strangled yelp. He threw his arms around me.
“You good?” he asked, mouth against my ear.
I swallowed, skin prickly and tight. The Door. Will. There was so much in my mind that I couldn’t handle anything on my skin. It was all too much to think about.
“I’m good,” I said. “I’m a little tired though. Sorry.”
I hugged him quickly and pulled away, and he frowned.
“Here.” Julian sat me in a chair and then dragged it next to his, dangling an arm over my shoulder. “First, my father owes you an apology.”
I nodded, sweat gathering in the skin beneath his arm. “He does.”
“I wronged you.” Will sat on my other side, perched on the edge of the chair, and leaned over his knees. His mouth held a downward tilt. “I was greedy, and when you leapt to my defense, I led that greed override my pride and worry over you. You were always like family. I owed you more than that, and I’m sorry. I understand that the contract can’t be broken. I will fulfill my part. I only ask that you hear me out.”
He held out his hand, and I took it. He and Julian weren’t like family—they were my family.
Or had been.
He clapped his other hand over mine, holding me tight, and his smooth skin was clammy against my rough scars. “It means a lot that you’re here, and I think Mack could use someone like you to convince him. You’re exactly what we need, Lorena.”
I was always what someone needed.
“You’re working on the Door with His Excellency,” said Will in a tone I hadn’t heard since Julian was eight and stole a whole pie from Mack’s mother. “What do you know about it?”
“You know I am, but you think you know something I don’t,” I said slowly. “The Door will open soon, the Vile will be unleashed, and Cynlira will be overrun.”
No one flinched at the news.
“I know how you should know that, but Shearwill didn’t have Carlow’s numbers until recently,” I said. “You wouldn’t have known it was opening so soon when you tried to have Alistair Wyrslaine killed.”
“No, I do not know because of Carra’s noblewrought.” Will leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms like this was a normal conversation. “The council has been aware of the Door’s weakening for a while now, and Carra’s numbers only bolster our cause. I and most of the council have been preparing for the day the Door opens. We have a plan for the end of the world, but His Excellency’s research threatens that plan. He cannot continue.
“We have all,” Will said, “acquired the necessary resources for survival when cut off from Liran farmland, an acceptable number of noblewrought given that twelve of my friends control their bindings, and enough consecrated land to support us without Vile intervention. Old churches are, thankfully, quite cheap.”
I shrugged off Julian’s arm and pulled one of the ledgers to me, lines upon lines of gun sales and land purchases averaging out to a nice little amount of gold tiens. I’d never even seen one. I tapped the column dedicated to listing Will’s last purchase, an old church in Formet. “There’s not enough room in Formet for everyone, and there aren’t enough churches across Cynlira for the people not in Mori.”
“We don’t entirely know how we’ll do it yet,” said Julian.
“Put your mettle to it,” I said and shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll…”
Hyacinth Wyrslaine’s magic made me choke on “figure something out,” and I smacked the table.
Will raised one brow. “Lorena?”
“The Sundered Crown destroyed my ability to lie before she died, and it cuts off sarcasm too.” I rubbed my throat. “Will, you can’t leave most of Cynlira to die.”
“Did she really?” asked Will, fingers tapping against his thigh and smiling. “We heard rumors of you, but most of them were outlandish. That could be useful though.”
“Fine. Fine.” I flipped the papers before me over, chest tight. My eyes stung. “That’s what the vilewrought was for then? Why you hired her to kill Alistair?”
“Yes,” Will said, “and that is why I let you make that deal. It bought me time to tell Julian and prepare him to take over for me once I am sacrificed. The peerage had its chance to rule. It is our turn now.”
“So for years, the council has been buying land the Vile can’t cross, hoarding food and arms, and collecting wrought so that they can hunker down when the Door opens? And it will, because you need it to open, but only on yours terms.” I covered my mouth with a hand. “You’ll let the rest of Cynlira die? The peers? The people?”
Will glanced at Julian over my shoulder. “We have determined which towns will be the most useful in the coming years. They, like Felhollow, will be protected. Of course, anyone outside of those havens who survives will be a boon to us. It will be an honor to lead them.”
They weren’t creating a better world for their kids to inherit; they were creating a world for them and their kids to rule.
“Cynlira is dying.” Julian pressed his hand to the small of my back, but the comforting gesture made me flinch. “Even if you found some way to shut the Door, we’d still be stuck here with the peerage and dwindling resources, cut off from the rest of the world. If you mess up, the Door opens, and none of us are ready.”
“And the Vile will cull the population,” said Will. “Most peers will be in Mori, and the Vile will emerge here first. We’ll be left with few enough people for our resources to support and only the ones useful enough to survive the Vile and new world.”
“What do you think?” Julian asked.
“I think the people who can afford to prepare for the end of the world like this could have afforded to fix it.”
Julian reacted as if I’d slapped him. Across the table, so that only I could see, Mack raised both of his hands so that only his first and last fingers were up, like a bull’s horns. Bullshit. I nodded.
“Fix is a strong word.” Will turned to me, hands on his knees, and leaned forward. “There’s a lot wrong in Cynlira, from the peerage to the people, and no amount of money can fix that. This is the sacrifice we are willing to make to save Cynlira.”
Vilewrought were kin to sacrifice. I knew it better than I knew myself, and this wasn’t it.
“How brave of you,” I muttered. “I’ve heard enough.”
“I haven’t,” said Mack. His gaze cut to Julian. A trembling tension gripped his body, shaking his leg under the table and his fingers above it. “How many people can your safe havens support and for how long?”
“About twenty thousand,” said Will. “Our families, a few towns, soldiers, noblewrought, and other necessities can survive on what we’ve got for about a decade if there are no issues. After that, we either fight back against the Vile or cut a deal. They get part of Cynlira; we get the other part.”
“So more people could survive for five years?” I asked.
“Lore.” Julian groaned and pulled away from me. “In the grand scheme of things, what are their lives if they only survive five more years?”
“The scheme of things!” I surged to my feet. “If I’d never left the Wallows, you’d be killing me. You’re killing folks not lucky enough to be born to rich parents. You’re killing folks like Mack or most of Felhollow. If you weren’t from there, you’d be killing all our friends.”
Julian grabbed my wrist. “You’re not still in the Wallows.”
“That’s not the point,” I said. “You’re spitting in the face of all those you’re willing to sacrifice without their knowledge.”
“Sacrifice?” He snorted. “Like we’ve not heard what you’ve been doing? How many have you killed for that boy, and what makes that different from this?”
My memories of my mother were an empty room and a door with nothing behind it. No voice. No face. No tender hands. I had given it all up to save her and then to save the dying folks of Felhollow. I had given up everything for Will. This was my repayment?
“I’ve sacrificed worse things than you can imagine,” I hissed.
Creek’s blood had been so warm on my hands, and even now I could feel the heat of it burning in me. A lit coal that I could never put out.
He scoffed. “Like what? Your desire?”
I flinched. The words burned worse than any wound. “Even now, when I ask what the worst thing you think has happened to me is, you make it about you.”
“Lore—”
“Cynlira may deserve better than Alistair Wyrslaine,” I said, “but it deserves better than this. Will, you’ve got barely any time left before your trial. Is this really what you want to do with it?”
“I’ll see Lorena out,” Will said and stood. He took my arm before I could protest and herded me to the door. “I have no qualms with how I have spent my remaining days, and I am willing to die to ensure this plan goes through.”
I ripped myself away from him. “Felhollow know about this? Old Ivy? Kara? They all right with killing everyone in Cynlira? They know that those bandits who killed Rylan weren’t even bandits?”
Will’s hand tightened around my arm. “Felhollow will understand once the time comes.”
“Felhollow will be horrified,” I said, “and even Julian will see you as a monster once he isn’t in grief’s grip.”
“Julian’s a smart lad. He knows what needs to be done, and he’ll do it.” Will clucked his tongue and shook his head. “You can protest it all you want, but the Chase family built that town. You were only visiting.”
I jerked, and he slapped his other hand over my mouth.
“Killing Alistair Wyrslaine might be illegal, but it’s not wrong,” he hissed. The meat of Will’s palm, salted with sweat, covered my mouth. Creek’s hollow blue eyes stared over his shoulder. “I’m willing to bear those deaths to make Cynlira great again. Sacrifices must be made. What are you willing to sacrifice?”
I’d sacrificed my body and mind for Felhollow, each memory of my mother yanked out of me like a tooth. Even now, I could feel the holes left by my noblewright. I’d killed Delmond Creek. I’d killed Hyacinth Wyrslaine.
“There is always someone with dirtier, meaner hands,” whispered Creek’s ghost. “Who do you want opening the Door?”
The knife hadn’t always been in my hand, but it had always been my knife.
I stopped struggling.
“I would’ve run if Julian wouldn’t have killed me for getting you killed by that damned contract.” Will removed his hand. “I know this is a lot, Lorena, but you are like family. We would like your help. It will be easier for the council to take control of the wrought and schedule the date of the Door opening with Alistair Wyrslaine gone.”
The words I meant to say stuck to my tongue. I couldn’t let Alistair die. I couldn’t let Will open the Door. But drawing attention to Will—even going through with the trial—might reveal his plot, and when he was found guilty, the Crown would possess his property. The peers would use it and leave the people to fend for themselves, just like Will. There had to be a way to remove the council and court before it all came to a head.
“I need time,” I said finally, each word clawing through my throat as if the magic knew I wasn’t lying outright but wasn’t being honest. “Alistair said he wouldn’t pardon you.” He had once, but my breath caught anyway. “I need a few days to digest this. Your trial’s coming up. Give me until then. Trust me. Please.”
“Of course.” His eyes crinkled. “I have to, don’t I?”
“Oh.” I smiled, the expression tight and false. The taste of his hand still burned in my mouth. “Of course you do.”