Nevernight (The Nevernight Chronicle #1) - Jay Kristoff Page 0,161

out of a watchdog’s teeth, me. Should’ve seen me lift Spiderkiller’s knives. Pure sorcery, it was.”

“I saw her face after she realized you’d swiped them,” Tric said. “You’re a braver sort than me, Ash.”

The girl shrugged. “All’s fair in love and larceny.”

“Two weeks ’til initiation,” Mia muttered. “Solis’s contest in the Hall of Songs begins tomorrow. If I don’t break this thing soon, I never will. No one has any idea who’s winning Aalea’s contest, and I’ve got zero chance of finishing top of any other hall unless I somehow lift the Revered Mother’s key from around her neck.”

“Maw’s teeth, even I’m not brave enough for that,” Ash shuddered, glancing at the old woman. “Hundred marks be damned. She’d kill you twice for even dreaming it.”

“So.” Mia began scribbling her notes again. “Here we are.”

“Aren’t you worried about writing it all down?” Ash raised an eyebrow.

“Why, are you planning on stealing this, too?”

“Damn your beady eyes, woman, I stole one lousy punching dagger from you. And I said sorry afterward. Anyone would think I’d pinched your beau.”

“… My eyes aren’t beady.”

“I’m just saying, be careful where you leave those notes,” the girl warned. “It’s not like business with Red or her boy is finished. Remember what they did to Lotti.”

Mia glanced down the table at Jessamine and Diamo. Though she’d hatched a dozen plans to avenge Carlotta’s murder, Mia knew it’d be pure stupidity to act on them. If something happened to either of the pair, the Ministry would be knocking on Mia’s door ten seconds later.

Diamo was watching her between mouthfuls, Jess whispering into his ear. Mia idly wondered if the pair were fucking. They never showed affection openly, but parading weakness wasn’t Jessamine’s style. And though Lotti’s death lay between them now, though they’d never be friends, Mia found herself thinking about Jessamine’s father. About the Luminatii she’d murdered outside the Basilica Grande. How many more orphans had she created that truedark? How many more Jessamines?

Would the sons and daughters of the men she murdered look at her the same way she looked at Scaeva?

What was she becoming?

Eyes on the prize, Corvere.

Quashing her unpleasant thoughts, Mia turned back to Ash and muttered.

“Well, let’s wait until I discover the solution before we worry too much, neh?”

“How close are you?”

Mia shrugged. “Close. And not close enough.”

Ash nodded down the table at Jessamine. “Well if you do crack it, keep it secret. If that’s your only chance to top a hall, you can be damned sure Red will mark it.”

Mia looked up at Ashlinn.

“… Say that again?”

“Say what again?”

“Red will mark it…”

“… What?”

“Red dahlia,” Mia breathed, eyes growing wide. “Blackmark venom.”

“Eh?”

Mia thumbed through her pages until she found one covered in scrawl, ran her fingers down the notes. Ash opened her mouth to speak but Mia held up a hand to beg for silence. Scribbled a handful of quick formulae. Flipped back and forth between the new and the old. Finally looking up at the girl and grinning to the eyeteeth.

“Ashlinn, I could kiss you…”

“… I thought you’d never ask?”

“You’re a fucking genius!” Mia shouted.

The girl turned to her brother and smirked. “See, I told you…”

Mia stood and grabbed Ash by the ears, hauled her close and planted a loud kiss square on her lips. Tric led a round of impromptu applause, but Mia was already scooping up her notes and dashing from the Sky Altar. Jessamine and Diamo marked her exit, speaking quietly between themselves. Tric and Ashlinn watched Mia disappear down the stairwell, Osrik returning to his meal and shaking his head.

“All over the shop like a madman’s shite, that one.”

“Good kisser, though,” Ash smirked. “I can see why you’re bonce over boots for her, Tricky.”

The Dweymeri boy kept his face like stone.

Calmly reached for another bread roll.

Mia spent the rest of the turn in her room, hunched over parchment with a charcoal stick between her fingers. She spread her notes across her bed, running through the concoction again and again. The evemeal bell rang and she stirred not an inch, smoking a cigarillo to kill her hunger. Mister Kindly’s not-eyes roamed Mia’s solution, page after page of it, purring all the while.

“… ingenious…”

Mia dragged deep on her smoke. “If it works.”

“… and if not…?”

“You might be looking for a new best friend.”

“… i have a best friend now…?”

The girl flicked ash at the not-cat’s face. She heard ninebells ring, the soft footsteps of acolytes returning to their chambers. Shadows passing across the chink of light seeping in from