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He steps toward the group and lifts one hand, palm up, and says, pleasantly, “Greythorn. A word.”

She exchanges a worried look with Hallward and Caine before going toward him.

Once at his side, Caranthis walks her away from the group, not far enough that I can’t see them, but far enough that I can’t hear. He bends his head toward her and says something. His face is impassive as always, while hers is the face she has when she’s concentrating on not giving anything either.

Before I can stop myself, I’m moving toward them.

A hand closes on my elbow.

“Careful, Professor.”

I look down to see Nelle at my shoulder. She’s stepped away from the group and her grip on my elbow is light but firm and extremely clear, while her eyes are on the bridge, not me.

I follow her gaze back to them in time to see Caranthis straighten and lay his hand briefly on Saturna’s shoulder—a gesture that seems paternal at first but I know means something more—and he turns and walks back toward the Mortis, passing me along the way. His eyes find mine and hold my gaze for a second and I can practically see him making a note in his head, probably noticing the fact that I was just about to go over there and insert myself in their business.

Saturna walks back to the group. Her face is composed and calm but she doesn’t look at me.

“Alright, let’s go, class is starting,” I tell everyone as we start to walk across the bridge to the cemetery.

Class goes well enough. I’ve paired everyone up for this reading exercise and Saturna seems to handle herself well when matched with Ambrose.

When the hour is up, the bell rings out and the students pack up.

“Greythorn, a word before you leave, please,” I call out after her.

Some of the students look over their shoulder at us as they leave but I ignore them and keep my face as professional as possible.

Saturna nods. “Alright.”

The others file back across the bridge, and the cemetery’s empty of everyone but the two of us, and the gate at the bridge end closes with its own desolate creak.

She looks at me expectantly.

“What did Caranthis want?” I ask.

“Oh. He said he was curious what I’d seen in the veil during the Trial. He said he felt there was a little more to the story.”

My brows furrow. “That was all he said?”

“Those were his exact words, yes.”

“What did you say back?”

“That I’d given him Pietranera and the full answer, and that I didn’t understand what more he could want. He said he wasn’t suggesting I’d done anything wrong. He said he was asking out of academic interest. He said if I remembered anything else, I was welcome to come to his office at any time to discuss it.”

“Hmmm,” I muse. No, I don’t like this at all, especially with what we overheard the other night.

I look at the ground for a long moment because if I look at her I’m going to do a thing I hadn’t yet decided to do.

“Did you tell him anything else?”

“No. Why would I? What would I tell him?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just…paranoid. I’m worried about you, Saturna. Worried he knows.”

“Yes, well, that makes two of us.”

She hasn’t moved. She’s standing between two headstones with her lantern at her side and her hair’s coming loose at the sides the way it had come loose on the pier. Her cheeks and nose are pink from the chill, her lips slightly open and wet and soft and…