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Was it the sight of another soldier, laughing with another girl? A flash of Eavus’ grin, a low warmth. A possibility that had blazed and gone out. Or was it something worse? Something darker. Because words choked in Revni’s throat, her heart racing, her body refusing—for a moment—to move, and this was the other possibility: that this was who she was now. Trapped in a body that could no longer be trusted. How do you fight an enemy that can’t be fought, and can’t be escaped?

“Are you alright?” The soldier’s grin faded to a puzzled expression as he noticed her. “Did you need something?” His Isfolj had a sing-song quality to it, an Aleterian accent she supposed, but the sound of her own language felt like sun parting clouds.

“Yes,” she managed. “I am looking for the Hall.” The Isfolj words pulled out of her own mouth, sticky and sweet.

His brow furrowed deeper. “Isfolj Hall is that way. Are you sure you’re alright?”

Revni suddenly recognized how odd it would be—for an Isfolj not to know. Even the smallest of Isfolj villages centered around the Hall. And for her to ask an Aleterian instead of one of her own…He didn’t sound suspicious, just deeply curious, but deeply curious was bad enough. Revni backed away.

“Just got turned around.”

Well done, Revni, she chastised herself. Walking straight up to a soldier and practically asking him to take a hard look at her. She’d forgotten, in all the furor of the past few days, the thump of Kyrianos in her heart, her anger at Eavus, at herself⁠—

There’s a price on your head, Eavus had said.

First everybody needed her, then everybody wanted to kill her. Sa. This was how it should be.

Aleterian conversations traveled a melody around her. Revni snaked around a tight, dark corner then stumbled backwards, squinting in the light. The thin street had dumped her smack into a main square, blinding her with the central building’s tall, white stone. Its high columns and red roof were garish against the salt-greyed wood of the Isfolj structures, but if Revni had any other doubts that this was the Aleterian center of Norbucum, the garrison of soldiers stationed out front confirmed it. There were at least two dozen, sitting at tables playing marbles and cards, others marching back and forth. Revni couldn’t be sure whether it was a seat of government or a single man’s home, but either way—this would be where to find the man in charge.

This would be where Eavus would be headed.

Again that humiliating jump in her pulse. Revni scowled. Would she never be free of him? At the main palace door, two guards marched one direction, two another, before they turned and met in the middle—but they moved as if half-asleep. As if she could stroll between them when their backs were turned and no one would care. Merchants or servants crossed and mingled, carts were pushed. Revni flinched as a girl darted past her, but the girl was only chasing a cat, one hand holding her skirts to her knee. The cat slipped under what looked like a drain. The girl shouted and ran around the building.

Eavus must not have arrived yet. No one was panicking, or taking orders. Revni breathed relief, but equal with it came her own twist of concern— He was faster than her. She had barely slept the past few days to make up the difference, hoping that Eavus would take fuller rests that would slow him down. Had something happened to him?

She angrily shoved the traitorous thoughts away. Good. Something should happen to him.

Revni turned the other direction, moving through warm spices and green citrus until the smells became more familiar. Her stomach gnarled. Dark bread, fresh from the ovens. She caught the arc of a building, high above the others, and finally found herself in another square, the Isfolj Hall looming at its edge. Wilted vegetables lay scattered over the wooden planks, scraps of food and piles of manure indicating there’d been a recent market. Or maybe Norbucum was just that filthy. Long spiral horns, the symbol of Aleteria, had replaced whatever Isfolj creature had been at the crest of the sweeping roof—a dragon perhaps, or a sea serpent. There were still jagged edges from where it had been hacked off. Two bearded, braided men slumped against the front wall. Revni started towards them, only to suddenly find a different set of strong arms around her waist, drawing her back. It reminded her of Eavus, back in Triconum, and she had the same righteous anger while her vision focused.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The man who released her was Isfolj, a warrior once maybe, now old and fat. Too long without a real fight. But he stood in front of her, blocking her path.

“To the Hall.”

“Who’s your jurl?”

“What?”

Another Isfolj appeared beside him, crossing his arms. He must have cut his hair at some point—maybe lost a fight or had it cut—because he’d attempted to re-braid it and it looked ridiculous. Tiny little worms sticking out all over his head. “Who’s your jurl?” He talked to her like she was stupid.

“I—” She didn’t know how to answer. In the old days, no one could enter the Hall unless under the protection of a jurl, but no one had upheld those rules in generations. Anyone could certainly enter, even just to pass the time.

“Did someone thunk you on the head? The jurls are having a meeting. No Isfolj problems today.”

“It’s not an Isfolj problem. It’s to do with Aleteria.”

The fat man gave Worm-head a smug look, but the men who had been at the wall had now gained interest.

“What does she want?” the redhead called.

“Some soldier plowed her field,” the fat man tossed over his shoulder.

Revni tightened her jaw, so angry she saw spots.

“Go home.” The redhead at the door barely even glanced up. He tilted his chin to the two men behind her, a scant command.

Eavus would be arriving in Norbucum at any moment. It was possible he was here already.