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Like us, they all agreed that whatever secrets awaited us over the ledges, we had to find them first and soon.

Roark had written a missive to Thane in their coded words and acquired a raven to deliver it. There’d been nothing of a response since.

Truth be told, I wasn’t certain Fadey and Ingir had not intercepted the bird through their blood casts.

“I have five days of rations. Brynn and Auki have a little more.” Gunter leaned over the gates of the wolf pen, speaking low to both me and Roark. “Ought to be enough to get us over the ledges. If this Jorvan prince has the stones to meet, he’ll need to bring his own.”

Thane has the stones. He just might come with blades to our throats, Roark used one hand to reply.

“Then I will raise mine to his,” Gunter said. “I don’t think we ought to include the Jorvan prince.”

“Thane is part of this,” I insisted. “We told you lot about the seer woman’s words. He’s an heir and a firstborn. For all we know, he might have a bone shard without realizing it.”

“Then let us get our bones first, then make our barters. You cannot convince me the future king of Jorvandal did not know his Stav Guard attacked our gates. He is not your friend anymore, Lyra. Nor yours, Roark.”

Gunter was not alone in his concerns. Brynn and Auki remained quiet as they worked with the pups, but discontent about the plan to ally with Thane was written in every shift in their stances, every twist of their mouths, like they might want to argue the notion.

Roark rubbed the healing top of his finger that was missing the tip, the place where the fealty bone was cut off and shattered his loyalty to Thane. I did not need his gestures or his words to know that for the first time, Roark was beginning to believe the brotherhood he’d once had with the Jorvan prince was gone.

“None of this is even a problem if we cannot find a way past the Dark Watch,” Emi said, her voice low.

True enough, Roark had been given the new watch rotations. Warriors marked nearly every five paces of the wall through the night and day. Only narrow roads and a few splotches of forest behind the palace might be left out of sight from the Dark Watchers. But all of us getting there unnoticed would be nearly impossible.

“We might need to leave in intervals,” Brynn offered.

Dangerous to be beyond the gates without larger numbers, Roark retorted.

After I clarified his words, Brynn shrugged. “True. But I’m not sure we have another way.”

Damn the cruel gods.

Every step we took to end this battle over bones seemed to strike a stone wall, forcing us to draw back and start again.

Why had Gammal told such a tale all those seasons ago? What part did the old woman play in my existence? Her words had destroyed my life when my family was slaughtered, then she taught me how to hide. She knew who I was before I was tossed into servitude at House Jakobson.

It was as though she was preparing me for…this fight.

I did not know where Gammal fit in all this.

But somewhere low in my belly I knew there was more to the tale. I simply did not know what.

—

“What is this?” I studied the different pouches lined up across Emi’s bed four days later.

Powders of gray and silver, crushed leaves that reminded me too much of poisonous firevine, and a few vials of muddy liquids.

Emi dropped a leather satchel over her narrow mattress. “Yrsa taught me a few things as she was learning more about her blood craft. These herbs can shield against summoning spells. This can make it more difficult for burning casts to harm the skin. And these”—she lifted one of the silver powders—“are a combination of crushed ice stone and grimfrost bark. Minerals from the stone keep thoughts clear, in case a blood cast tries to manipulate the mind, and the bark allows a mind to be aware of craft.”

Impressive. Emi had been wholly unsettled by the blood spell meant to lure me in. When I looked back now, the illusion of Kael had been primitive and easily discernible, but something else within the blood cast had crafted a compulsion I could not ignore.

“Well done, Emi.” I helped stack some of the pouches. “This will be incredibly useful.”

“Here.” She tucked a wrapped bunch of dried purple flowers beneath the clean bandage over my hand. “I’ve been speaking with the healer, and we both think kalla vine will draw out some of the dark craft from the wound. I hate to say it, but we may need a blood crafter to actually seal it. It’s a cursed wound.”

I gave her a nod of thanks. Whatever happened to my palm when the blood craft attacked me during the battle had left my skin open and cold around the gash.

In truth, I could not help but wonder if there was more to Ingir’s spell cast than we knew.