They were gathered around the fire, still sore and reeling from the Swoon. Wavewaker and Bryn lay still and cold on the stone. A fire burned in the eyes of the remaining Falcons, matching the one in Mia’s breast.
“Who the fuck is Naev?” Butcher demanded.
“A friend of mine,” Mia replied. “She’s a Hand. A disciple who works in the Quiet Mountain in service to the Church. I saved her life.”
Mia recalled the sight of Naev standing at the foot of her bed, drawing her knife along the heel of her hand, blood welling from the cut and spattering on the floor.
“She saved Naev’s life. So now, Naev owes it. On her blood, in the sight of Mother Night, Naev vows it.”
“So she’s a blood worker?” Sidonius asked.
“No, that’s Adonai,” Ashlinn replied, her mouth twisting. “He and his sister Marielle are both sorcerii. Masters of Old Ashkahi magiks, and as fucked in the head as any pair of siblings you’re like to meet.” She stretched her hands out toward the fire, fingers curling. “That bastard killed my brother.”
“AFTER YOU BOTH BETRAYED THE RED CHURCH,” Tric replied.
“If I wanted to hear from an arsehole, I’d go use the privy, Tricky.”
“Can we not?” Mia snapped, her temper rising. “Please?”
“All right,” Bladesinger said. “So this blood mage Adonai is your ally, Crow?”
Mia shrugged. “I saved his life, too. He did say he owed me. Though I can’t say he’s ever struck me as the most trustworthy of bastards. Nor his sister, truth told.”
Eclipse’s shape flickered and shifted on the wall as the fire danced.
“… HE KILLED HUSH, MIA. I SAW IT. WHILE YOU AND THE OTHERS WERE AT HIS MERCY, ADONAI’S BLOOD MAGIKS STRUCK THE BOY LOW…”
“And now Adonai’s directing us toward this Naev woman,” Sid said.
Mia nodded. “She does supply runs for the Church. Runs a caravan train from the Quiet Mountain to Last Hope and back. I suppose they’re working together?”
“But why?” Ashlinn asked.
“I don’t know,” Mia sighed. “But at least I know I’m on the right path. We get to Amai, then I head across the ocean for Last Hope. From there I can ride to the Quiet Mountain and Mercurio’s rescue. Just as planned.”
“… Wait,” Sidonius said, a scowl forming between his dark brows. “What do you mean you head for Last Hope? What about the rest of us?”
“You head back to Whitekeep,” Mia said. “Corleone can probably take you. Jonnen will have to come with me, and I don’t suppose there’s any talking Ashlinn into leaving, but you, ’Singer, and Butcher are done.”
“Bollocks we are,” Butcher said. “We’re with you to the end.”
“No,” Mia said, anger creeping into her voice. “You’re not. You’ve paid your fucking debt, all right? ’Waker and Bryn are dead because of it, and I’ll not have more blood on my hands. You’re leaving me in Amai.”
Sid’s scowl only deepened. “Mia, I might’ve been drummed out of the legion, but I still swore an oath to Darius Corvere. I wasn’t there when your father died, but—”
“He’s not my father, Sid!” she snapped, rising to her feet. “He’s nothing close! I’m the daughter of Julius fucking Scaeva, do you understand that? I’m the daughter of the man who killed Darius Corvere!”
“’Byss and blood,” Sidonius breathed.
“… You’re that bastard’s daughter?” Butcher asked, bewildered.
“Aye,” she spat. “The man I’ve been trying to kill for the past eight years turns out to be the man who gave me life. And if that isn’t enough of a fuck-you from the divinities, I’ve apparently got a fragment of a dead god inside me that I inherited from him, too! O, and incidentally, the last boy I fucked got murdered by the last girl I fucked, then resurrected by the Mother of Night to help me with the aforementioned god problem, and the prick who just cut Bryn and ’Waker’s throat used to be a personal friend of mine! I am fucking poison, do you see that? I am cancer! Whatever comes near me ends up dead. So get the fuck away from me before you get killed, too.”
“You can’t blame yourself for this, Mia,” Sidonius said.
“Don’t!” she warned. “Just don’t.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Fuck you, Sid,” she spat, tears welling in her eyes. “Look at them!”
“Blaming yourself for another’s work is like blaming yourself for the weather,” he said, looking at Wavewaker’s and Bryn’s bodies. “And I’ll mourn them as a brother and sister lost, aye. But taking a beating is part of being alive. And