But an arrow can’t hit two targets at once. Steel rasped and rang. Nisha Davrosh screamed.
“Splitting hells,” Davrosh said.
Sorrows turned. Mig stood beside him. Davrosh beside her. Ga’Shel crouched two paces away, sword in hand, stance narrow. Blood trickled down his neck from a crimson line around his throat. He looked at Davrosh, Mig, and Sorrows. He hesitated, then vanished. Reappeared by the balcony door. Sorrows took a step, but a hand found his ankle.
“Let him go,” Jace said.
She lay on the floor, one hand grasping the hem of his trousers, the other pulling the runed box from beneath her cloak. The dagger lay in front of her.
“Let him go?” Davrosh asked. “Have you lost your gods-shunned mind? He’s the killer. He has to be. Why else would he be here?”
“You’re right,” Jace said. “He is.”
“Then why aren’t we following him?” Davrosh asked.
“Zvilna,” Sorrows said.
“Yes,” Jace said. “Zvilna. Her soul lingers in Oray’s body, as does his. She’ll be cast out soon to wander. She deserves rest. I’ll take care of Ga’Shel.”
“What will you do?” Davrosh asked.
“I won’t kill him. If that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Will you bring him back to the tower?”
“That will be up to him.”
Jace stood, rubbed her hand where the blade had cut her thigh. Walked to Sorrows, lifted the amulet from around her neck. Closed her hands around it, hesitated. He stepped closer.
“Why did you steal it?” he asked. “I can understand the bow, but why the Grimstone? Were you worried about Oray?”
“No. I hadn’t planned on taking it. That night in the street, with the Seph nearby, I just thought… nothing. I acted selfishly. Foolishly. I made a mistake.”
“Not so foolish,” Mig said. She offered a small smile.
Jace returned the smile, took another step toward Sorrows, clutched the Grimstone. Whispered in his ear.
“Do you love me, Solomon?” she asked. “Tell me the truth.”
Quiet. Her breath on his skin, her thoughts in his mind. A world apart from Davrosh Manor.
He stepped back. Looked at her. Really looked at her. She wore a cloak that was little more than a pile of rags. But she was still beautiful. Her hair was golden, fine; loosely braided and tied in leather cords. Her eyes sparkled like deep water beneath the sun. Her skin was cream, and her lips were rose petals. She smelled of wildflowers and honey. He knew what it was to touch her, taste her. Knew what it was to hear her laugh, to listen to her talk of the world with childlike wonder. Knew what he felt just from looking at her. But knew he didn’t want any of it. At least, not right now. But maybe sometime.
“I don’t know,” he said.
She placed the Grimstone in his hand.
“Fair enough. And more than I expected. If you figure it out, find me.”
She moved fast. Was around him in a heartbeat, already at the balcony door when he called.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
She stopped, turned.
“Hunting,” she said. “I will find you again someday. Until then, be safe, Solomon Sorrows.”
She disappeared in a swirl of snow and the fluttering of her patchwork cloak.
“She’s still a whore,” Davrosh said. “Can’t say that I’ll miss her.”
“I will,” Mig said. She stared at the door.
Sorrows looked at Mig. “I don’t understand.”
Mig turned, smiled. Laughed softly.
“No. No, you don’t. And it’s better that way. For now.”
✽✽✽
THE GRIMSTONE WOKE to his touch. He closed his eyes, sank into its power. Called out in his thoughts.
Zvilna.
Nothing. He drew a deep breath, let it out through his nose. Cleared his mind.
Zvilna.
Silence. Sorrows shivered, felt the chill of the grave against his skin. Forced it out of his mind. Called once more for Zvilna, then waited.
He felt a hand on his shoulder, soft, tentative. He opened his eyes. The room was dark. Zvilna Gorsham stood before him, pale, small. Her face was masked in holly leaves and primrose. Her lips were painted red. She looked at him, meek and afraid. Her eyes glistened. The ornate box lay at her feet.
Are you here to punish me?
Sorrows shook his head. Punish? Why?
I didn’t mean to hurt all of those people.
No one blames you. You deserve rest.
Sorrows extended a hand and offered the Grimstone. It was what he did. The job. But Zvilna shook her head, refusing.
I don’t deserve it. Not after what I did. I just… I’m sorry. I let you down.
He shook his head. No. Their blood is on my hands. Not yours. I should have been there.
Zvilna gave a faint smile. Not your fault; you were in love. That’s what the Maiden’s Dance is about, isn’t it? Besides, what would you have done against Master Ga’Shel? What could any of us do against a Walker?
Nothing. They could do nothing but die. Five already had. The disorientation from slipping the gods-stream was too much. A Walker with a blade might conquer an army if he was patient enough. Yet Jace had revealed Ga’Shel. Had forced him and Oray back into the gods-stream. It was a gift Sorrows had never heard of. An unknown. And he didn’t like not knowing. But he knew he could trust her, despite his ignorance. Knew, somehow, she’d catch Ga’Shel, bring him to justice. Wanted to see her again afterward. He had questions. But they were questions that would wait for the time being. He offered the Grimstone again.
Take it. Find peace.
Zvilna took a step forward, reached. Hesitated.
Mari, Shael, Prida, Mishma… they’re all waiting. Could you see to them?
Sorrows nodded. Of course. It was the job.
Thank you, Solomon Sorrows.
She touched the stone. Her image faded, then vanished. A light appeared where she had been. Small, orange. Half firefly, half flame. It didn’t sink into the Grimstone like the human souls did. It rose. Floated above Sorrows, above the bedroom, then passed through the ceiling and was gone. Sorrows should have been alone. Was always alone
