After that, Skyweaver sat at her loom, night after night, century after century. Waiting for the rest of the story. But the Shadow God didn’t call for her again.
Lonely, she thought as she wove.Is that what I am?
This time, he didn’t summon her. But Skyweaver went.
“Tell me what it feels like,” she said.
So he told her all of it: the ache of hunger, the glow of joy, the bitterness of grief, the swell of rage. This time, when he looked at her, his eyes weren’t ravenous flames. This time, they were soft as the morning dew.
“You remind me of her.”
Those words unraveled the last of her resolve. Skyweaver heard the longing in his voice. She felt it echoed in her own heart. She might know who he was and what he’d done, but her curiosity outweighed her caution. She wanted more.
So when the monster reached to touch her, she let him. More than let him.
Night after night, she went to him. Over and over, he showed her. He was kind and gentle and tender—all of the things that monsters weren’t.
And then one day, Skyweaver felt herself changed. Surprised, she looked down to find her belly swollen and something growing within her.
Hischild.
Thirty-Eight
The first thing she did when she got across was destroy Safire’s door.
Just in case she was tempted.
The second thing she did was pack: her spindle, her dart shooter, and some dried scarp thistles in a jar by the bed. She kept a small stash of coins in the chest full of clothes and just as she was lifting the lid to take them, the ghost arrived.
“I can help you.”
Eris dug below the layers of woven cloth and found the leather purse.
“Trust me,” she said, pulling it out and shoving it in her pack. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the shadowy shape of him. “No one can help me.”
The ghost moved closer, closing the gap.
“You will never be safe, no matter how fast or far you run. You know this.”
Eris’s eyes prickled. “I have to try,” she whispered. She wasout of options. Shouldering the pack, she turned and found the dark shadow before her, its chilling gaze on her face. “Please. Move out of my way.”
He was shifting again, from shadow to man. “They took something from both of us.”
Eris frowned at him. “What did they take from you?”
“Something precious.”
It was no longer the ghost standing before her now, but Crow. Human again: strong jaw, black hair, gray eyes staring down into hers.
“Your enemies are my enemies,” he said. “Help me, and I will destroy the one you callempress, then hunt down those who do her bidding. They will never hurt you again, Eris.”
Eris glanced up. He’d never spoken her name before. She didn’t think he knew it.
“Help me,” he said, his eyes shifting from gray to silver and back, “and you will never have to run again.”
As she studied the man before her, Eris thought of the way Kadenze drew back in fear of him. She’d never seen Kadenze afraid of anything before.
“What are you?” she asked him.
