Erador touched his pocket for the fifth time to check that the felt bag with the broken crystals shards was there. They were beside Pia’s bed in the infirmary. She had been poisoned by someone who had seen her.

  Breaking the news to Shade was simple. He didn’t have to say anything. He zipped from side to side on the wall beside the infirmary, wishing he could be whole and hurt whoever did this to her. Erador wished he could too as he stared at the mammoth card cupped in his palm, left on the bedside table. Erador tried not to think of how it related to Eli. Pia wasn’t superstitious, was she?

  He put the card away, lifted his hand to the doorknob, and tried to compose himself with a deep breath. This would be the second time he walked into the morgue, but there would be more than one body waiting.

  After he knocked, Sescina called him in. She smoothed the mammoth banner laying over Pia, her hand trembling with each stroke.

  “I’m sorry, Sescina,” Erador said.

  Her falling face was like a weight slammed into his abdomen. He pulled her into an embrace, her teary cheek pressing into his chest as she sobbed. Sescina’s grip felt like it choked the air from his lungs. It was over a month ago with Eli, but this time it was harder. Breck and Pia were too young.

  Sescina wiped her eyes. “In all my years of dealing with patients, I’ve never cried like this.”

  “You were close to her, that’s why.”

  Sescina nodded. “Pia was like a sister to me.” She touched the banner delicately. “She was there when I needed her.”

  Erador chewed on his lip and tried to block out the last memory of her hollowed eyes.

  “And Breck.” Sescina’s voice broke as she wandered to him and placed her hand on his wolf banner. “He went through so much.”

  Erador’s chest stung when his memories of Breck conflicted with her words. They might not have been on good terms, but that didn’t mean he didn’t touch others.

  “He didn’t deserve this,” Erador said. “Neither of them did.”

  Sescina lowered her head and stepped back. “I’ll give you time alone.”

  She shut the door. Erador fought the urge to ask her Breck’s cause of death, though he was certain it was the stab wound. Gillian helped him bring Pia back to the castle wrapped in a blanket, delaying any chance of finding out what happened. But it wasn’t the time, not after hearing Sescina's shrieking cries.

  The morgue’s atmosphere felt heavy and devoid of life. He went to the wolf banner and rolled it down along with the white sheet. Breck’s pale and relaxed face stared at the ceiling. Erador shivered at the idea that he was the last one to see him alive.

  “Haven’t you done enough?”

  Erador jumped and turned around. Mikra clutched the door frame. Stepping back, Erador found it hard to breath after seeing his furious stare. A stare he’d seen before, that threatened his safety, but Mikra didn’t usually emote.

  Erador tried to brush it off but he stiffened as Mikra passed in front of him. He’d never been afraid of him before and he didn’t know why now. Shade couldn't give him an answer. Mikra’s voice wasn’t threatening. It was the first time Erador heard him. His pronunciation wasn’t clear.

  “What are you talking about?” Erador said.

  “They’re dead!” Mikra recovered Breck. “You don’t have any respect.” He straightened the fabric. “Murderer.”

  “Murderer?” Erador stepped in Mikra’s view. “Now, I’m that too?”

  On the ground, Shade shook a fist but Mikra didn’t notice.

  Mikra grabbed the pile of Breck’s soaked clothes and threw it in a sack. “Pia was fine until you took her to Loma.”

  “Pia was not fine,” Erador said, irritated. “She was screaming and just because I found Breck, doesn’t mean I killed him.”

  “He was stabbed.” Mikra jabbed his finger at the body. “He didn’t die from berries. He bled out after he passed out and you...” He shoved Erador’s shoulder. “You left him there.”

  Left him? Another rumor. Erador still had dried blood on his clothes from dragging Breck up the stairs, hoping to find Sescina in time to save him, but it’d already been too late.

  “Why would I bother telling anyone about it, if I killed him?” Erador mumbled.

  “What?” Mikra cupped his ear and walked toward him as he watched Erador's lips.

  Erador scoffed. “It doesn’t matter. You already condemned me like everyone else.”

  Mikra pointed at the window. “Why don’t you ask them what they saw?”

  Erador looked back at Mikra, before he unclipped the curtain and pushed open the black window. Hundreds of people crowded the garden. They raised wooden signs that said they wanted Erador dead.

  Shouts erupted and the crowd chanted murderer, demanding he be thrown in the pit. His gut twisted. As if poisoner wasn’t bad enough.

  A clang rang from the top of the manor staircase. Erador leaned out the window. Aminria waved a ceramic bell from the landing until the people quieted.

  “Erador didn’t kill Breck or Pia,” Aminria said.

  “Then who did?” A man asked in the crowd. “We heard she lost her blood. Drained right out of her.”

  Aminria put her hands on her hips. “What do they have legal in New Akthelia?”

  The people looked dumbfounded.

  “Magic,” Aminria rolled her eyes. “Witches. Crystals.”

  “Witchcraft?” A woman dragged her fingers down her face. “What if they want us next?”

  Aminria looked around. “They could.”

  She was putting herself in harm's way. She defended him when no one else would. Erador gripped the ledge as his chest was overwhelmed with tingling warmth.

  “That witch did it?” A woman the height of an older child shoved through the crowd to the bottom step. Goosebumps rose on his arms at the yellow bow in Miraline’s hair. “Is she from New Akthelia?”

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  “No,” Aminria said, flatly. “New Akthelia wants Lord Judgment dead whether we sign their treaty or not. What better place to start than his Paradins? I can prove that Breck was murdered by their Lorien, their prized warrior.”

  Miraline cackled but stopped when the crowd was silent. “You’re lying.” She pointed at Aminria. “He wasn’t here.”

  “He was on the streets today.” Aminria walked down a step and gestured for a man to come forward. He had white ruffled hair, and a receding hairline. Erador’s stomach rolled realizing it was that crazed man by Sunflower Alley Haven led away with the nuts.

  His voice whistled as he talked. “That’s right. He was in our streets this afternoon. I saw ‘im hooded in an alley.” He flattened his hair, but it went back up when he let go. “I’d recognize him anywhere. Those red eyes, like Lord Judgment’s.” He pointed at his one eye. “And his dark demeanor.”

  Erador wouldn’t put it past Aminria for bribing this man to say this.

  Miraline crossed her arms. “We’re supposed to believe him?”

  “Who else saw Lorien?” Aminria asked.

  A few people raised their hands and the rest mumbled to each other. The signs lowered, the tall confident stances falling one after the other and Erador suspected it was true.

  “This was orchestrated by New Akthelia,” Aminria said, walking across the landing. “They’re the real enemy. We must not fight each other.”

  Miraline marched to the staircase and faced the crowd. “If they want the Paradins dead, then we can hand them over and end this. We can finally start over.”

  The crowd looked at each other with hope. What they had been craving for years. Erador wished he could push Miraline down the steps.

  “They’ll kill you,” Erador shouted. “You’re all followers of Judgment to them.” He looked over the crowd. “The more of us there are, the more we stand a chance. It’s our only hope.”

  “He’s right,” Aminria said. “Gather what weapons you have and stay in numbers. All of Judgment’s children are welcome to stay inside the front buildings of the manor, to keep safe.”

  Aminria smiled as the signs lowered. Miraline clenched her fists and tried to shout, but her voice was lost over the crowd saying New Akthelia’s name in vain.

  As the crowd dispersed, Aminria went inside. Erador leaned his chin on his palm as he smirked at Miraline's frantic attempt to get the people to listen. She glared up at Erador, and he absorbed it as fuel. No one would sit with her.

  Erador rushed out the door through the halls to the top of the main stairwell to find Aminria surrounded by Eonidas, Dethil, Jerus, and Fedra.

  “You ruined the fun,” Jerus said, smirking. “I thought they were going to storm the manor.”

  Dethil patted Aminria’s shoulder. “You fucking saved us.”

  Erador pushed through them and they went silent. His raised lip completed into a full smile as he lifted Aminria into an embrace as Shade swirled round them. “How did you manage to pull this off?”

  Aminria shrugged as he set her down. “I overheard the followers claiming they saw Lorien. That’s why Pia and Breck might be dead.”

  “Was he really here?” Fedra pushed through the other Paradins. “Lorien in the flesh?”

  Aminria nodded.

  “Wonder what he was doing,” Eonidas said. “Scouting?”

  “But why send him?” Fedra said. “It’s too obvious.”

  “Maybe they’re trying to scare us out,” Dethil said.

  “Lorien’s going to come back for more,” Fedra said. “He’s doesn’t give up easily.”

  Jerus turned to Fedra. “How well did you know him?”

  “Well enough, but we were never close. He was cold, quiet,” Fedra raised her lips in distaste as if she never had a fond memory of him. “He serves the king well.”

  “What if it’s the Raven pretending to be him?” Jerus said, holding up his marked arm.

  He looked at every one’s marks suspiciously, then stopped on Erador whose sleeve was down.

  Aminria laughed nervously. “The Raven had to come in contact with him to change.”

  Erador’s gaze followed Shade as he inched to the edge of the dark doorway with the tallest painting of Judgment. He could imagine his scarlet eyes piercing the blackness. Lorien knew the Raven in ways none of them could understand—the Raven killed his sister.

  “Lorien did,” Erador said.

  Aminria swallowed and lowered her head. “You’re right.”

  “Yuni told me she knew about the Raven,” Erador whispered. “I don’t know where she heard it from.”

  “Other Paradins?” Dethil said.

  “No. She made it seem like it spread out of Lucrethia at some point.”

  “That could explain why he’s out. Maybe New Akthelia let him free,” Aminria said. “They can blame our deaths on the Raven and make it our fault for letting him live.”

  “Does that mean…” Fedra began as she touched her lips. “This Lorien is the Raven?”

  Erador didn’t want to consider that option. Maybe the Raven was strong enough now. He pulled Aminria away from the group as they talked among themselves.

  “We can’t trust Hawth,” Erador whispered. “Emera and Pia were both killed from crystal vapor. I think he did it.”

  Aminria’s eyes widened. “You’re sure?”

  “Maybe Hawth is working for New Akthelia. Emera knew something. I think she would’ve confessed had he not given crystal vapor to her. He made her forget.”

  Aminria gnawed her lip. “I almost feel bad. If she couldn’t remember, is she guilty?”

  “Doesn’t change what she may have done.”

  “What now?”

  “Keep an eye out for anyone with a lurker scar or a Raven mark. I’m going to have a chat with Hawth.”