an execution, but it was murder, true and simple. Anyone related to the imperial family was either eliminated or forced to show their support for the prelate."
Parmian's voice regained some of its initial confidence. "When I spoke with him, the earl said he possessed a secret, something so powerful that if it was revealed, it would bring down the Church."
"What secret?" Josey blurted before she realized what she was doing, but she had to know.
Parmian shook his head. "He never told me. He said it would be safest if kept to himself until the time came to unveil it. Those were his exact words."
"What else?"
He lifted his empty hands, but dropped them as Caim applied more pressure with his knife. "That's all. I urged the earl to leave Othir as soon as possible."
"What do think, Caim?" Hubert asked.
Parmian perked up. "You're Caim? The one they're searching for?" He looked at Josey. "Then you're ..."
A bevy of whistles split the night. A cry went up from a nearby roof as hard footsteps pounded on the cobblestones. Josey wrapped her arms around her body, but her shivers had nothing to do with the cold. She couldn't catch her breath. She felt like she was running, so fast her lungs might burst, but her feet never moved.
"We're done here," Caim told Hubert. "Take your men and disappear."
"Sure. I'll go rally the rest of the boys. Once word of this reaches the streets, every hand will rise against the Reds."
As Hubert disappeared into the night, Caim turned back to Parmian. The man stood up straight, his shoulders squared as if expecting the worst.
"What do you intend to do with me? My family will-"
Caim stepped back. "You can go."
The man didn't move. "Just like that? I know who you are. I could have every able-bodied soldier in the city searching for you."
Caim sheathed his knife. The whistles were getting closer. "Can't you hear? They already are. Go home, Ozmond, and think about taking your own advice. Things are heating up. Othir's going to be a very dangerous place, no matter which side you support."
Caim turned away, but Parmian stopped him. Josey watched a host of emotions play across the treasury man's face. He grimaced, shook his head slightly, and then settled into a look of resignation.
"Wait. There's something else."
He looked at her. "The order to have the earl killed came from the highest level."
Icy fingers constricted around Josey's windpipe. She couldn't breathe. What did he mean, the highest level? The Church hierarchs? The prelate himself? They killed Father, and now they want to kill me.
She gasped and shook. Then, Caim put an arm around her and the air rushed once more into her lungs.
"Come on," he said, pulling her away. "We have to get out of here."
Josey leaned into him and felt his warm breath against her cheek. She needed the contact, to feel the touch of another living person. She felt like she was surrounded by ghosts. She looked back over her shoulder, but the alley and Parmian were gone, hidden in the night. For the first time, she realized it was raining.
"I know," she said. They hurried through the slick, black streets. "I know where we have to go to find the next piece to the puzzle."
Caim regarded her with an amused expression. Something flickered across his eyes, too quick to follow. A blossom of heat spread through her chest as she realized she trusted him.
She turned her head as the warmth spread into her face. She gazed into the sky, into the rain and gloom, to the heights of Esquiline Hill.
"I have to go home."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
shadow crouched by the riverbank where a gentle breeze pushed through the riparian jungle of rushes and cattails. Dark masses of silver-black clouds scudded across the starless sky. Somewhere an owl hooted, and the shrill howl of a coyote carried on the wind.
Amid the Memnir's sleepy currents, where the river slid past the fortified walls of Othir, Castle DiVecci perched on a spur of bare rock. The castle's white parapets loomed over the water like cliffs of alabaster in the waning moonlight. Banners hung slack from the sturdy towers.
A stone span joined the isle to the mainland, guarded at both ends by a gatehouse manned by soldiers of the Prelate's Guard. Othirians called it the Bridge of Tears for all those who had crossed and disappeared into the dungeons beneath the castle, never to return.
The shadow had no need of bridges. One moment it stood on the