Finn sat on the ridge of the hillside, staring into the distance as dawn spread over Aytrium. His skin was bleached of colour; it made the redness of his lips appear painted. Thinner, taller, he looked noticeably less human in the morning light. His scalp glittered with pale stubble.
“I’m getting worse,” he said, without turning to look at me.
His arms were scratched, and the underside of his nails dark.
“I can’t sleep,” he said. “I’ve had insomnia for weeks, but now? Nothing since they drugged me for the execution. It’s like my body’s forgotten how.”
He blinked less often. His eyes were bigger and liquid-bright, a night predator’s. I climbed up the slope and offered him a bread roll. He looked at it with a strange, almost childlike uncertainty.
“Eat,” I said.
He reached out and took it. His fingers lingered over mine.
“I don’t think I have much time left,” he said.
“I promised I’d fix you. Trust me.”
He searched my face.
“And when I lose control?” he asked. “Because I will. And you’re going to be the closest Sister when it happens.”
“We aren’t there yet.”
He looked down at the bread in his hand. He took a bite of it, and I caught a glimpse of white behind his incisors. More teeth, newly grown. He swallowed.
“I think Reverend Cyde is returning,” he said. “I can hear someone on the road. Go inside for now, in case it’s not her. And El?”
“Yes?”
“Restore your lace.”
I made my way back down the hillside, skin crawling. I should have guessed that Finn knew about the jars hidden in my bag; no doubt he could smell Verje’s flesh. He must have known all along. And it was true, I had been putting off gorging again. Every time I thought about it, I saw Verje’s lifeless face in my mind and felt the hot rush of her blood over my hands.
Look what you’ve done, the vision moaned in the back of my head.
My rucksack was propped against the wall inside the first passage. When I picked it up, the jars clinked together softly. Heavier than I remembered. I passed Millie and Lariel—both still sleeping, the latter bound with rope—and took their lantern. Then I pressed deeper into the passages in search of privacy.
While I had tried to appear calm for Finn, his decline had accelerated far more quickly than I anticipated. Seeing him now had lent the situation a fresh sense of urgency. In an unexpected way, it also made it easier to accept what Cyde had told me. I would do this. I had no choice but to do this, because I could not let him down.
The remaining two lumps of Verje’s heart rested within their jars, dark and clotted with old blood. I selected the smaller sacrament. When I unscrewed the lid, the smell hit me and I gagged, my stomach roiling like waves in a storm.
No, focus. I took a few careful breaths. Just meat. Just chew and swallow. I had left this too long; I risked the flesh spoiling. Already, there might have been a hint of putrescence to the smell, but I tried to dismiss that thought. This was necessary.
Using a small paring knife, I sliced off a section. Then I shut my eyes, raised the sacrament to my mouth, and bit down. The flesh was cold and slippery: the slick texture of cured fish. My stomach turned. Don’t think about it. I breathed through my nose and forced myself to swallow. If I had done this once, I could do it again. With this lace, I would reach Ventris. I cut a second piece, put it in my mouth, and commanded the muscles of my jaw to work. I would fix everything.
Power bloomed inside me, rich and sweet, and I felt some of the tension inside my chest unwind.
Millie had woken up by the time I returned to the entrance. She was peering outside, and jumped when she heard my footsteps.
“Is it Reverend Cyde?” I whispered, crossing the room to join her.
“I think so,” she replied under her breath. “But Finn will give a signal.”
Lariel groaned in her sleep, and her eyelids fluttered. We both flinched and looked at her. Millie bit her lip.
“Eater, if she screams and it isn’t Cyde…” she muttered.
I heard horses’ hooves, and the rumble of carriage wheels. I waited, holding my breath. Then a bird call, high and fluting, echoed over the hillside.
Millie exhaled.
“That’s him,” she said.
Behind us, Lariel stirred. She opened her eyes and for a moment seemed confused, alarmed. She tried to sit up, and the movement jostled her bound wrists. She grimaced. I walked over to her, and gestured for her to lift her arms.
“Just leave her tied up, El,” said Millie tersely.
Lariel gave me a sweet smile. She offered her hands like she was praying.
“Oh, don’t you know?” she said. “The corpse eater has decided to take pity on me.”
“Stop calling her that.”
I loosened the knots and slid the ropes over Lariel’s hands. Her skin was chafed raw, and her fingers had swollen slightly. I said nothing. From outside, I heard voices and quick footsteps.
“Doesn’t that sound like trouble to you, oh benevolent one?” whispered Lariel.
I rose as Cyde entered the passage. The Reverend’s uniform was creased from travel. When she gestured greeting, her movements appeared laboured; she was clearly exhausted.
“Reverend?” I said. “Has something happened?”
Her gaze travelled over Millie, Lariel, and the rope in my hands. Her lips thinned. “Possibly. Collect your belongings quickly; we might need to find another refuge.”
There wasn’t much to collect; aside from my backpack, there was only the sack with Lariel’s bolts. Millie grabbed it, and we followed Cyde outside. The sky was the colour of pewter, dyed red to the east where the sun was rising. Osan, his expression dark, stood beside the horses. Finn hurried down the hill to join us.
“I’ll get to the point,” said Cyde, turning around to face me. “According to intelligence from Commander Asan, Celane has escalated her efforts to find you.”
“What does that mean?”
“During the confusion following Finn’s escape, a second inmate vanished from the Renewal Wards. I take it you didn’t release anyone else?” She didn’t wait for my confirmation. “If Celane has a Haunt, she will use him to track down the Renewer. Finn, forgive me for asking, but from what distance would you be able to detect Elfreda’s scent?”
Finn’s mouth twisted.
“A few hundred feet? Maybe more?” He looked down, shame-faced. “It depends.”
Cyde seemed surprised. “So not from Ceyrun, then?”
“No, definitely not that far. But I…” He struggled. “But I would be able to find her anyway.”
“How?”
“Even when I can’t actively sense her, I always know where El is. She’s like a magnet; she’s pulling me all the time. The distance doesn’t matter.”
“The man that Celane released, he would experience the same pull?”
He nodded. “I’m sure of it.”
“Then we need to move,” said Osan. “Right now.”
Cyde returned her attention to me. She saw my unease, and her face softened.
“I’ll admit I’m not as prepared as I would have liked to be.” She offered a tired, self-deprecating smile. “This is sudden, I know, but if you still want to travel to Ventris, now is the time.”
Finn made a sound of alarm. “What? No, that’s insane; there are hundreds of Haunts down there.”
My hands shook. I clasped them together to stop the trembling. “Aytrium is sinking anyway. It’s only a matter of time.”
“El, you can’t feel—” He broke off. “The Haunts below are different. Worse.”
“I will accompany you,” said Cyde.
I gestured negation. “No, other Sisters rely on you.”
She held my gaze. “And we are all relying on you. If we are to live or die by your success, I must do everything I can to help you.”
“No, listen to me,” implored Finn. “Going down there will be suicide. El, please, this is the worst mistake you could make.”
“Whatever we’re doing, we need to move,” said Osan.
I turned to Finn. “I can’t outrun the Order forever, and I can’t hide. Ventris is the only escape for me.”
He shook his head. He was scared, more so than I had ever seen him. I wasn’t certain what had gotten under his skin, but it went beyond a natural fear of the dark and unknown lands below us. Something had shaken him so badly that he could not even speak about it.
“El,” snapped Osan.
Forgive me. I broke Finn’s gaze and crossed the distance to the cab. Eater knows I don’t want this either.
“Wait,” said Millie.
I swallowed, unable to look at her, and pulled myself up. Seeing her face now might shatter me—I didn’t want to think that this might be the last time we spoke.
“El!” she said angrily.
“I have to do this,” I said.
“Then I’m coming with you.”
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m not.” She took a step toward me. “El, look at me. You’re right—I betrayed your trust. You don’t have to forgive me, but let me help you. I can still do that.”
“I’m not mad at you, you moron!” The words got stuck behind the lump in my throat. I raised my head. “I don’t want you to come because I love you.”
Millie’s face crumpled. I quickly averted my eyes again.
“Just stay here,” I said. “Please.”
Shaking her head, she marched to the cab door.
“Millie, you are not—”
She pushed herself inside. I fell back against the seat.
“You’ll need me.” Her mouth was set and her cheeks flushed. “And this time I will be there.”
I felt lost for words, but I had to convince her, had to stop this. She folded her arms, glaring at me.
“Millie, please,” I whispered. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
Osan muttered under his breath and hoisted himself up to the driver’s perch.
“Have the argument while we’re moving,” he said. “Everyone get in; we’re taking far too long here.”
Using her lace, Cyde wordlessly dragged Lariel to the cab and bundled her inside. I leaned past them, seeking Finn. He stood with his fists clenched, rooted to the spot. His expression was tortured; I knew that he was grasping for a way to talk me out of leaving.
Come on. I willed him. We both knew it was inevitable.
As if he had heard me, he lifted his head and cursed the sky. Then he stalked over to the cab. Osan offered him a hand up to the driver’s seat.
“Thank you,” I murmured.
We clattered back down the road in the direction of the Moon House, none of us speaking: Lariel mutinously angry, Cyde composed, Millie pale and stubborn. I gripped the edges of the bench. All I could think about were the men inside the Renewal Wards. Those voices in the dark. The whispering, the pleas and threats. That was what lay ahead, but this time there would be no walls to protect us. Millie clutched the bag of crossbow bolts to her chest, and her frown deepened when she noticed that I was watching her.
“Don’t try to stop me,” she warned.
“I want you to be safe.”
She shook her head. “My mind’s made up. Besides, there’s Finn to think about.”
“You’re all welcome to jump off the Edge,” hissed Lariel, “but you will not drag me down with you.”
“Nor will we attempt to,” said Cyde. Even now, she held herself with calm poise. “Osan will deliver you to the Commander; I believe that she was headed to the Moon House in any case. You’ll be able to plead your case.”
“Great,” said Lariel. “I’m thrilled.”
“How are we descending?” I asked.
Cyde turned her attention to me. “Once we learned that the Renewer had been found, a small group of us started building a vehicle based on Golden Age designs. While our version doesn’t fly, we should be able to control the way it falls.”
Millie stared at Cyde. “You planned for El to go down there all along?”
There was an awkward silence. Millie looked to me for an answer, but I shook my head. Not now. We could have that conversation if we survived long enough for it to matter. Even thinking about Ventris made me feel physically sick, and the idea of talking about it seemed worse. What the Star wanted, what she expected me to do—all of it was hazy and shifting. Eater, I didn’t even know how I was supposed to die. A handful of fractured visions and vague instincts was the only guidance I had received, and it amounted to nothing if I didn’t know where to go. I drummed my foot against the floor.
“Reverend,” I said. “Have you ever heard of the path of grace?”
Cyde looked mystified.
“No,” she replied. “Do you think it’s significant?”
“Maybe. It’s recurring in my visions, at any—”
The horses screamed and Osan swore. The cab jolted to a stop, and I smacked my forehead into the door. One of the animals reared, almost upsetting the vehicle. An inhuman shriek pierced the air.
Haunt, I thought dizzily.
Something collided with the exterior of the cab. Finn leapt down from the driver’s perch, landing hard on the road. I readied my lace and pushed open the passenger door. We had stopped less than a hundred feet from the edge of the woods. I jumped out of the cab.
The man was taller than Finn and heavier-set, but he moved with weightless ease. He raced forward, bare feet hardly touching the ground, every violent fibre of his being focussed on me. I threw my net into his path. He collided with it and came to a shuddering stop. With him paralysed, I could see his face clearly.
“No,” I whispered.
Declan Lars was wild-eyed and covered in scratches, his spine curving like a hook. His bright gold eyes found mine, and through the haze of bloodlust, he recognised me. He grinned obscenely, then threw back his head and screamed again.
“No,” I moaned. “No, not him, not him.”
Finn stepped between us, his teeth bared at Lars. Lars stopped shrieking and his mouth worked; I thought that he was trying to speak. Between his lips I saw rows of teeth, the glisten of his saliva and blood. My head pounded; I was in the Renewal Wards and the smell of oil and herbs filled my nose.
“Don’t release him,” shouted Osan. He jumped down from the driver’s seat.
I wanted to run away from Lars and his shining eyes and the memories rushing through me. My lace twisted in my grasp, fraying and losing shape.
“I can’t,” I stammered. “I can’t hold it. He’s going to kill me.”
Cyde touched my shoulder, and I jumped. Her lace twined through mine, smooth and controlled; she reinforced the net. Behind her, Millie rushed to grab the horses’ reins.
“It’s all right,” said Cyde. “I’m here to help you.”
I shuddered. I felt like I might throw up or pass out; my chest was so tight that I could hardly breathe. Osan stalked past us, face grim. There was a knife in his hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my voice high. “Osan! Get away from him!”
“Don’t look.” He moved swiftly, circling behind Lars. “And keep your lace up.”
“No, don’t. Osan, please don’t—”
He drove the blade into the back of Lars’s knee. Blood splattered the earth. Lars’s eyes went wide with pain, and he writhed, struggling against my lace. I clamped my hand over my mouth. Osan, careful but unflinching, drew out the knife. When he raised it to sever the tendons in Lars’s other leg, I looked away. Lars howled.
“Stop it,” I whispered.
Osan stepped away from Lars. His expression was fixed.
“He must have escaped Celane and her associates, but they won’t be far behind.” His voice was steady and matter-of-fact over Lars’s shrieks. “Get back in the cab. This will only slow him temporarily.”
Cyde steered me back to the vehicle. She was speaking, but I could not seem to piece together her words in any meaningful way. I held the strands of lace around Lars together. As the panicked horses pulled at the halters, I saw him begin to crawl after us. One hand over the other, lamp-yellow eyes filled with hunger.
Finn hunched beside me. Although it was cramped inside the cab and he was too tall, he did not touch me. We both stared at Lars as he receded outside the window.
“That’s going to be me,” he said.
His voice was strange and hoarse. I think he was only talking to himself; I don’t think he ever meant to say anything aloud, because after a second he blinked and seemed to snap out of his daze.
“We’re nearly there,” said Cyde.
I could imagine the flesh and tendons of Lars’s legs fusing back together as he dragged himself through the mud. I closed my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said faintly, although I wasn’t sure who I was talking to or even what I was apologising for.
It had started raining again; a thin, bleak drizzle that pattered against the roof of the cab. In the distance, I heard the yips of anxious Cats. Lariel swore under her breath.
“They’re gaining on us,” she said.
Out of nowhere, Finn laughed.
I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His face was temporarily animated, his expression verging on gleeful, and then it fell into blankness.
“It’s over.” His voice was like wind through old trees. “What are we trying to do?”
“Finn?” said Cyde carefully.
While the rest of his body remained preternaturally still, he turned his face toward her.
“Nowhere is safe,” he said. “No one is safe. The island is sinking now, and I can hear them.”
“Hear who?”
He blinked slowly, and his blue eyes gleamed the yellow of ripe corn.
“The Old Ones,” he said. “They know she is coming.”
Then he shivered and his gaze lost its weird, feral intensity. His breath rattled, coming out in short, suppressed bursts, like he had just surfaced from water.
“Let me out,” said Lariel.
I could think of nothing to say. Finn looked like a wreck; he gripped his knees and his shoulders shook violently. Cyde stared at him in incomprehension.
“Let me out!” said Lariel. “I’ll turn myself over to Enforcement, I swear, just let me go.”
I reached out and placed my hand on top of Finn’s. He flinched. His coldness radiated through my palm, so intense that it almost seemed to burn.
“Stay with me,” I said softly.
The cab jerked as Osan pulled the reins hard. The horses stopped. We had reached the end of the road. I heard women shouting in the distance. The Sisters following us must have seen our cab.
“Come on,” said Cyde.
The Edge was the Order’s primary site for disposing of Haunts. I had never attended a drop; until now, I had only seen the platform from a distance. The dock protruded from the island like an accusing finger, and below stretched the vast expanse of Ventris. Aytrium’s looming shadow cast a swath of deeper shadows over the undulating hills, where faraway lakes shone like dull metal.
At the end of the dock stood a wooden-slatted cage: roughly square, about twelve feet across and shrouded by enormous white sheets. It sat on four sets of rollers.
Osan swore again. I turned and saw Cats tearing down the road behind us. Eight Cats, eight Sisters. More than Cyde or I could hope to handle alone.
“Run!” said Osan.
We raced for the Edge. The wet ground was slippery; my bag bounced against my back and I almost stumbled, but Millie grabbed my hand and kept pulling me on. Osan reached the cage first. He set his shoulder to the slats and heaved. It rolled a few inches closer to the drop. Finn joined him, and their combined efforts drove it forward.
“We’re descending in that?” Millie shouted, aghast.
Behind us, the horses snorted with fear. A coil of lace caught me by the neck, wrenching me backwards and away from Millie. I choked, found my own lace, and slashed through the rope restraining me. The moment I severed it, another appeared. I broke free again and turned around.
Cyde, a few feet away from me, struggled to defend herself. Her breathing came out harsh, and her eyebrows were drawn together in concentration. The Cats drew nearer, their riders closing the distance to the Edge.
I struck back and the closest Sister toppled off her mount with a scream. Had to be aggressive, had to break away before they overwhelmed us completely. A net wrapped over my legs, pinning me to the spot. Another collided with my shoulder.
I was so focussed on fending off the lace attacks that I had forgotten about Lariel. During the chaos she had remained hidden inside the cab, but now she jumped out and sprinted toward me, her expression furious.
My lace dissolved.
“Go on, corpse eater,” she snarled, shoving me toward the platform. The nets around me vanished as the crossbow bolts in Lariel’s fist drained their lace. “Move!”
“What—”
Cyde cried out as a bone in her right leg snapped. She staggered and fell. I moved to shield her, but Lariel shoved me backwards.
“I can deal with a bunch of old women,” she snapped. “Go.”
Cyde’s face had turned bloodless, and she spoke through gritted teeth. “Channel your lace into the sheets.”
“Reverend—” I began.
“We’re all relying on you,” she said. “Make it count, Elfreda.”
Millie snatched my hand again and pulled me away. Osan and Finn had rolled the cage almost to the edge of the platform. Over my shoulder, I saw Lariel step in front of Cyde, planting her feet wide.
“All right, corpse eaters,” she shouted. “Who wants to take me on without your blood magic, huh?”
I tore my eyes away from her and scrambled over the railing of the cage. Millie followed me.
“Finn!” I gasped. “Stop pushing.”
He jumped into the cage. Osan copied him, and then caught my eye for a split second as if daring me to argue. No, not you as well, I wanted to say, but we had run out of time. I extended my lace and felt for the weave of power meshed with the sheets. I fed the web and the fabric billowed upwards. The cage lurched over the rollers and toward the yawn of the abyss beyond.
“What are you doing, Sacor?” I heard Celane shout.
I took a deep breath and poured my lace into the sheets. With a last jolt, we slid forward and off the platform.
The last thing I heard before we dropped was Lariel’s defiant voice.
“You should have paid me better, bitch!” she yelled.