asks.
I try to listen beyond the other ghosts’ whispers, but there are too many. I shake my head, and the Soul Catcher’s face holds something I can’t decipher. “Try again.”
I close my eyes this time and focus on the woman—only the woman.
I can’t find—where—don’t hide, lovey—
“She’s—” I open my eyes, and the murmurs of the others drown her out. “She’s looking for something.”
“Someone,” the Soul Catcher corrects me. “She refuses to move on. It has been decades. She hurt someone too, long ago. Though she did not mean to, I think.”
A not so subtle reminder of the Soul Catcher’s request the last time I saw her. “I’m doing as you asked,” I say. “I’m keeping my distance from Laia.”
“Very good, Veturius. I’d hate to have to harm you.”
A chill runs up my spine. “You can do that?”
“I can do a great many things. Perhaps I shall show you, before your end.” She places her hand on my arm, and it burns like fire.
When I wake up, it’s still dark out, and my arm aches. I roll up my sleeve, expecting to see the knotted, scarred flesh where my injury was.
But the wound, which healed days ago, is now raw and bleeding.
XIV: Helene
TWO WEEKS EARLIER
“You’re insane,” Faris says as he, Dex, and I stare at the tracks in the dirt behind the storage building. I half believe him. But tracks don’t lie, and these tracks tell quite a tale.
A battle. One large opponent. One small. The small one nearly got the better of the larger one until the small opponent was knocked out—at least that’s what I assume, since there’s no dead body around. The large opponent and a companion dragged the small opponent into the storage building and escaped on horseback, out a gate in the back wall. The horse had the Gens Veturia motto carved into its shoe: Always victorious. I think back to Cook’s strange tale: They brought the demon low and escaped victorious.
Even days old, the tracks are clear. No one has disturbed this place.
“It’s a trap.” Faris lifts his torch to illuminate the shadowy corners of the empty lot. “That crackpot Cook was trying to get you to come here so she could ambush us.”
“It’s a riddle,” I say. “And I’ve always been good at riddles.” This one took me longer than most—days have passed since Cook’s visit. “Besides, an old crone against three Masks isn’t really an ambush.”
“She got the jump on you, didn’t she?” Faris’s cowlick tufts out, as it always seems to when he’s agitated. “Why would she even help you? You’re a Mask. She’s an escaped slave.”
“She’s got no love for the Commandant. And”—I gesture to the ground—“it’s clear the Commandant is hiding something.”
“Besides, there’s no ambush to be seen.” Dex turns to a door in the wall behind us. “But there is salvation half-touched by shadow. The door faces east. It’s only in shadow for half the day.”
I nod to the kiln. “And that’s the sleepless spire of suffering. Most of the Scholars who work there are born and die in its shadow.”
“But these tracks—” Faris begins.
“There are only two silver-skinned she-demons in the Empire,” I say. “And one of them was getting tortured by Avitas Harper that night.” Harper, suffice it to say, wasn’t invited on this little outing.
I examine the tracks again. Why didn’t the Commandant bring backup? Why didn’t she tell anyone she saw Elias that night?
“I need to talk to Keris,” I say. “Find out if—”
“That’s a terrible idea,” a mild voice calls from the darkness behind me.
“Lieutenant Harper.” I greet the spy, glaring at Dex as I do so. He grimaces, handsome face uneasy. He was supposed to make sure Harper didn’t follow us. “Skulking in the shadows as usual. I suppose you’ll tell her all about this?”
“I don’t need to. You’re going to give it away when you ask about it. If the Commandant tried to hide what happened here, there’s a reason. We should learn what it is before revealing we’re on to her.”
Faris snorts, and Dex rolls his eyes.
Obviously, idiot. That’s what I’m going to do. But Harper doesn’t need to know that. In fact, the stupider he thinks I am, the better. He can tell the Commandant that I’m no threat to her.
“There is no we, Harper.” I turn away from him. “Dex, check the reports from that night—see if there’s anyone around here who saw anything. Faris, you and Harper track the horse. It’s probably black or chestnut and at least