The handler at the Cat stables was surprisingly cooperative.
“Right away,” she said, nodding vigorously.
I had demanded the use of two Cats. The young Oblate had heard the emergency muster, she knew there was a crisis—if I was here at a time like this, it could only be with the approval of the highest authorities in the Sisterhood. After all, the gates were locked. Anyone leaving the city would need express permission and a very good reason. I name-dropped liberally.
She lapped up every word with wide-eyed alarm, then hurried to organise my request.
“Why two Cats, though?” she asked, as she brought the saddled animals to the door of the shelter.
“I’m meeting a superior in Halowith; she’ll need one too,” I said. “Unfortunately, I can’t tell you more than that.”
“Understood.” She offered me a leg up.
“Thank you so much for your help,” I said with sincerity. I found myself thinking of the dead Acolyte outside the Martyrium, and couldn’t help adding, “There’s a lot happening in the city. Keep yourself safe, keep your head down.”
“Yes, Acolyte.”
She walked the Cats out into the rain. They were not impressed by the weather. My animal, a short-haired female with a black coat, skipped from paw to paw. Her brother yapped. The handler smacked his rump, and he settled into a sulk.
“May the Star shine on you,” she called, over the hissing rain.
“And on you.”
I met Millie and Finn a few hundred feet down the road. We were all soaked; the downpour continued to flood the Fields and path, gushing over the baked soil. An end, finally, to the drought. Lariel hung across Finn’s shoulders, her short hair stuck to her forehead. I didn’t know what we were going to do when she woke up. I hadn’t really planned for that.
The Cats growled when they smelled Finn.
“Easy,” I said, digging my heels into the female’s ribs. Millie grabbed the male’s harness and made soothing noises. The animals knew the scent of a Haunt.
“I’ll take Lariel,” I said. “You two ride together.”
Finn slowly edged around the Cat’s huge jaws. The fur at the scruff of the animal’s neck stood on end, and his head swung around suspiciously. Finn patted him. Confused and already miserable, the Cat shivered and mewed plaintively.
“You sure?” he asked. “I could ride with her.”
“You take care of the bolts. I can bind her if necessary.”
Finn set Lariel down and hoisted himself into the saddle before offering a hand to Millie. She swung up in front of him. They paced a few feet forward, and I used my lace to lift up Lariel.
We made swift progress through the dark. Beyond the Fields, I could see the blurred lights of the fishing towns in the distance, and the deeper black shadow of the hills beyond Malas Lake.
Lariel’s head jolted drunkenly in front of me as we rode. Her hair was matted with blood above her left ear, and the rain washed red streaks down her neck. At least her body helped to keep me warm; I could feel my hands and feet growing numb, my back chilled from the rain. In spite of my discomfort, I felt drowsy; the swaying strides of the Cat and the relentless cold dulled my brain.
How strange and terrible to think that Finn’s execution had occurred less than a day ago. When my eyes drifted closed, frozen images flashed through my mind. Verje bringing my flesh to her lips, Lariel pulling the trigger on the crossbow. Finn burned and dead, the Renewal Wards, Declan Lars and Finn merging into one pale, shambling …
I forced myself awake.
“Millie?” I called.
She turned her head toward me.
“It’s too cold. Don’t doze off, okay?”
“No risk there,” she said. “Not with this ice block stuck to my back anyway.”
“I resent that,” said Finn.
We had reached the top of the hill. Below lay the orchards, and the Moon Pillar woods. I strained my eyes. I couldn’t see any light ahead; the valley was buried in shadow. My teeth chattered.
“It’ll be better under the trees,” I said. “At least they’ll offer a break from the wind.”
My mount padded down the muddy road, and I nudged her toward the woods with my knees. The wind whipped over my skin. Although she joked, Millie looked a mess; her lip was split, and her face had turned wan and bloodless. Finn might be impervious to the cold, but it was obvious that we needed shelter, or at least more warmth. The Cats would help; even wet, their bodies remained hot. If we could escape the wind and the worst of the rain, we would be okay. I hoped. Sunrise was only a few hours away.
We came to the edge of the woods. The trees groaned and dripped. I lifted Lariel down and climbed off my Cat, rubbing my arms to restore circulation. My hands had stiffened gripping the saddle. I grimaced and stretched my cramping fingers. Finn helped Millie to the ground.
“I don’t think we’ve been followed,” I said. “If we’re lucky, the Order will focus their attention on the city for now. Buy us some time.”
“Time for what?” asked Finn.
I made a vague gesture. He leaned down and picked up Lariel, easy as lifting a small child. Her head moved, and she moaned.
“Back with us so soon?” he asked.
She did not answer.
I led my Cat deeper beneath the trees, and the wind eased. I was shivering violently. The Cat nudged me with her snout, and I stroked her head.
“El?” said Millie.
“Find a place to shelter, and keep Lariel quiet,” I said. “There’s something I need to do.”
“We should stay together,” said Finn.
I wrung water from my shirt. “I won’t take long. But I really do need to be alone for this.”
“You won’t even tell us what you’re doing?”
“It’s … personal, I guess. A decision I want to make on my own.”
He looked unhappy. “Be careful.”
The ground was soft and slick, sucking at my boots with each step. Droplets of water trickled down the back of my neck. The gloom made it difficult to see, but I kept to the path, winding my way deeper into the woods.
As I walked, I played out the arguments in my head. My mind was sluggish, and my thoughts got caught in familiar ruts. The rain lightened; the sound quietened to an even hush on the canopy roof.
We can be better than this.
Could we? Could I? Maybe Celane, for all the terrible things that she had done, held the right line of thinking. She wanted to protect the Order. The Order protected Aytrium. There was a balance at play, and who was I to upset it?
The trees opened up to the clearing. The moon hung overhead, spreading a feeble white glow through the clouds. The platinum-bright names carved into the Pillar gleamed and faded, gleamed and faded, in time with my breath.
Long grass brushed my legs as I approached. I touched the granite surface of the monument. Warm. A susurration of power flowed from the rock, responded to my own. My fingers tingled and I withdrew them. The clouds shifted, causing the boughs of the Anchor Tree to glow white.
“So I hear you are the Renewer.”
I spun around and flung a net of lace. It tangled around Reverend Shaelean Cyde, fixing her to the spot.
She did not struggle. She stood at the entrance of the grove, her expression calm.
“I wish I had known sooner,” she continued.
“Don’t you all?” I snarled.
“Commander Asan managed to pass a message to me a few days ago,” she said. “She indicated that you were safe, but I gather circumstances have changed since then.”
Cyde remained composed, despite her paralysis. I was unnerved. I glanced around the clearing.
“I’m alone,” she said, reading my mind. “Elfreda, I’m not here to hurt you.”
“You’re working with the Commander?”
A faint smile. “You have been staying in my house for the past week. What happened? Is Asan in trouble?”
“No.” I shook my head. “At least, I don’t think so. The mansion was yours?”
“Yes. I lived there while I was Chief Archivist, and the property remains under my name.” She frowned. “Were you discovered?”
“Not exactly, but it seemed wise to leave.”
“Wise to leave on a night like this?”
I said nothing.
“You do not trust me.” She nodded to herself. “I understand that.”
“How did you know I’d be here?”
“The Pillars are better defended than most Sisters are aware. Your presence triggered certain alarms.”
I should have anticipated that. “And yet you came alone.”
“Not all of my subordinates can be trusted. Until I knew who you were, it seemed better to be discreet.”
I did not release my binding. Cyde simply stood and watched me; her eyes glinted in the moonlight. She had been a friend to my mother, but still. I could not let my guard down.
“Do you know why I’m here?” I asked.
“I can guess.”
“But you aren’t … scared?”
She weighed the question. “Would it matter if I was?”
“I don’t know. I’m about to do something terrible. If you were scared, I think I might lose my nerve.”
“Would you? Haven’t you already come too far for that?”
My stomach twisted. I looked down; I did not want Cyde to read my face.
“Explain why you want to do this, then,” she said.
“So you can talk me out of it?”
“So I can understand.”
It was difficult to put my feelings into words, to express the bone-deep urgency that had taken root inside of me. I kept my eyes on the ground. The grass shone like razors.
“If Aytrium is to remain airborne, then the Sisterhood is indispensable,” I said.
“Yes,” Cyde agreed.
“And if that’s the case, then…” I wavered. Glanced up at her. “Nothing can ever really change, can it?”
Water dripped from the branches, trickling over the dark ground, down into the soil.
“It costs us too much,” I said. “What we do to men, what we do to each other, it’s … it’s too much.”
Cyde’s face was unreadable.
“And if the price of change proves to be our lives?” she asked.
I could not answer her. The names on the pillar grew brighter, casting their light over my skin.
“If you make this choice, you make it for us all,” she said.
“I know.”
“And here you are.”
I hesitated, torn between fear and lingering loyalty and the conviction that this was right. Right, just, and necessary.
“I know what I’m risking,” I said, placing both palms flat on the surface of the rock. “But I don’t think I can turn back now.”
I wrenched.
The power of thousands of long-dead Sisters rose up in defiance, layer upon layer of webs and nets and ropes pulling tight in resistance. A dull, ominous rumbling emanated from the Pillar. I stood firm and pulled, let the old magic stretch to breaking. Lace drained from my blood, the world turned red before my eyes, and the rumble transformed to a roar.
Something snapped.
I lost my balance as the ground rippled. Branches broke off the trees, and flocks of panicked birds took flight. With a crack, the Pillar split and fell apart, tearing the Anchor Tree’s roots from the ground.
Then everything fell quiet again. I held my breath. For a moment, nothing happened.
Then I felt a faint vibration, the tiniest jolt of downward motion.
Aytrium was sinking.