She saw it, faint but clear enough: the Sinner’s Brand carved whorls down his arm, all the way to his fingertips. It was the same distinct pattern she’d seen on Niemi before cutting her throat, but nowhere near as dark, and Niemi’s had only been a few hours old.
“How long?” Fie asked.
“One day,” one woman answered.
“Since the solstice,” the other said.
The man swallowed. “Five. Five days.”
Her brow furrowed. She looked up at him. “Any fever?” He shook his head. “Spewing? Coughing blood?” He shook his head after each. Fie took a step back and turned to the women. “And you? Only the Sinner’s Brand, too?”
“Yes.”
Fie stared at the man’s arm again, utterly flummoxed. The Covenant did not send the Sinner’s Plague with equal speed, to be sure. Pa had suggested once that it seemed to linger on those who had great wrongs to atone for, making them feel every weeping sore, every bit of their lungs giving way. Others it took swift, usually when it had spread from an unburnt corpse and caught those whose crime was simply negligence.
She’d never heard of the Covenant simply marking sinners, then leaving them be.
“Is it the plague, or no?” Yula asked.
“I-I’m not sure,” Fie said.
“Youhaveto be sure. If it is…” Yula’s voice shook. “They can’t stay in the palace.”
Fie didn’t get it at first. Neither did the Sparrows behind her.
“Why?” the man asked. “If it’s our time, we’ll go to the quarantine huts.”
That was when Fie understood. Her blood ran cold.
“Take them to the city,” she told Yula. “Fast as you can, andanywherethat can quarantine them.”
“I said we’ll go—”
“It’s not you, it’s the queen,” Fie interrupted. She made herself face the Sparrows. “I’ve never seen plague like this, and maybe—maybe it’ll be different. But if the queen finds you, I know one thing: she’ll die wearing the Sinner’s Brand herself before she calls for Crows.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
RED LANTERNS
A quiet fell over the sick room. Then one of the women spoke up. “It spreads if we die and aren’t burned, right?”
“Aye,” Fie said. The Sparrows all traded looks.
“If I asked now, would you give me mercy?” The woman stared at the floor.
“Aye.” Fie’s belly sank. “But your only symptom is the Sinner’s Brand.”
“I have—” The woman’s voice cracked. “My sister and her children live in my house, in Dumosa. If I carry the plague there…”
“If you had the plague I know, you’d already be dead,” Fie said. “If the Covenant wanted you to suffer, you would be suffering.”
“It’s not for us to know what the Covenant wants,” the man said softly. “But if it spares Dumosa and the palace, it’s worth it.”
Fie could only think of the Black Swans’ words again:The sun will rise, even from our ashes.
How much more would have to burn?
The door burst open before she could answer them. Khoda stood in the doorway, wide-eyed and taut.
