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“No. Kate’s mother was caring for Ella; I can only hope that he went to Morais instead. It’s well protected. I think it will be the last of the provinces to fall to Castillion.” He kept his gaze averted; he still would not look at me.

Not that I blamed him. What Kellan had so unceremoniously dumped on his shoulders . . . it was a lot to take in.

“Listen,” Zan said. “I don’t have any extra supplies. I—obviously—wasn’t expecting company. If you want blankets, you’re going to have to find them yourself. I’ve already taken everything I could find on this level. You’ll have to look on the next floor down, or next one up. They’re in worse shape. So be careful.”

“What did you do with everything on this level?” Kellan asked sourly.

Zan looked up with a surly cock of his head. “Everything I have, I’ve given to the refugees,” he said. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep anything extra around for you.”

We all scattered in separate directions; I tried to follow after Zan, but he slipped down some hidden back corridor before I had a chance to call to him without the others noticing. In a way, I was glad; I had no idea what I’d say if I did manage to catch up with him. Sorry your uncle died because I tried to seduce you. I shuddered at the thought.

I decided to pester Onal instead. She was headed down the east wing toward the bedchambers when she saw me following after her. “Onal,” I called, but she ignored me.

I tried a different tack. “Begonia!”

She turned around in a huff. “I’ve been traveling all day, and I’m tired, Aurelia. Why don’t you find someone else to bother?”

“I’ve never in my life left you alone when you told me to go away,” I said. “Why should I start now?”

“Stars, you’re insufferable.” We’d come to a hall of what might have once been bedrooms. She went to the first door and gave the knob a wiggle. Locked.

“I learned from the best,” I said brightly.

“You didn’t learn that from me.”

“You assume you’re the best at being insufferable?” I asked.

That made her crack a smile.

“You don’t have to be here, you know,” I said. “You could be with Conrad and Fredrick in Greythorne right now.”

“You want to get rid of me?” She tried the next door. The knob turned, but the door wouldn’t budge from the frame.

“Not what I meant.”

“You think I’m too old to help you?”

“Didn’t say that, either. You just have to understand—”

“I understand that you’re as ridiculous and impulsive as my sister. Dabbling in things that shouldn’t be dabbled in.”

“Rosetta?”

“Galantha.” She leveled her gaze at me. “Rosetta makes it sound like Galantha was second only to the Ilithiya herself. And in a way, she was. But she was just as bullheaded as the rest of us, and when she got an idea . . . nothing could stop her.”

“You knew Mathuin Greythorne, too,” I said, getting to the point. “When I went into the Gray, I saw you at the homestead with them. You, Galantha, Rosetta, and Mathuin. Do you believe he killed her for the bell? So he could disappear into the Gray?”

“I was very young when it happened, Aurelia. I’m old and jaded now; logic says that of course he did. Evil likes to hide behind benevolent faces. But if you’d asked me at the time, I would have said there was not a chance. He loved her. But more than that . . . he was kind. Caring. Good. All he wanted to do was run around in the woods and carve sculptures. He had no motivation to kill my sister or steal the bell.”

A thought occurred to me. “Do you think . . . Rosetta did it? That she wanted to be warden so much, she forced Galantha to pass the mantle to her?”

Onal sighed. “That’s not what happened.”

“How much do you know about what happened?” I asked.

“Not enough,” Onal said. Then, “Too much.” The knob she was jiggling gave way. “Ah, success!” she declared, throwing open the door.

There was nothing on the other side but open air—and a long drop down two more stories. She promptly closed it and said, “We’ll try the next one.”

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