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The doorbell rang.
I was back at Mandible Street in the house I’d hated and called home. The place I had been at my most powerless, its weight pressing me down. I had imagined this meeting taking place in the palace, or somewhere neutral like the courthouse or theater, but it had finally reopened and, like so many times before, this was all I had.
Iclutched my coat with sweaty palms, knowing I should answer the door, but unable to move.
We were a day away from the Day of the Dead. The sun would rise twice more, and one way or another, it would be over.
I had used Dimitri’s coins to send new invites, pay the street cleaners and other urchins and invisibles to spy, the day laborers to guard against the seeming undead, and most expensive of all, the Sigil Guild to protect as many homes and streets from the Spirits as possible. Whatever Dimitri believed, on the Day of the Dead, they would come. Ealhswip needed fresh dead, and Tal was overflowing with people no one would miss.
Between the frantic action, Lumi and I had talked like we had not for years. We shared not only information but tales of our lives, forgiving each other. She had kept things from me and paid more than enough for her decisions. Our deaths brought me back to my sister.
The city was full of rumors that the king was stockpiling food in a warehouse in Gateways. If it did not arrive at the festival, Tal would blow like a mad fire bearer.
The bell rang again.
Lana kicked my leg when I still did not move. After I explained my reasons and showed the invite list with my dead twin at my shoulder, she had been surprisingly amenable to opening her home for this meeting.
This was a place for deals to be made—and perhaps even Svetlana’s rules could be bent when her dead stepsister did the arguing.
I wore plain but well-made pants and coat and new boots—my one indulgence. If anyone was going to listen, I could not be dressedin rags or borrowed robes, and I would not risk the delicate peace with my stepsister by wearing her clothes.
When it rang a third time, I rushed, suddenly afraid they would just leave. On the other side of the front door, I came face-to-face with a friend I had not thought to see again.
“You came,” I stuttered as Mariska enveloped me in an embrace. A gray cloak, probably suffocating in the end-of-summer heat, covered her healer’s reds. As Dimitri had been out of the question, she would have to represent the palace and nobility.
“You just had to ask. Though your message was cryptic enough.”
Someone cleared her throat behind her, and I straightened my back, well-versed in what happened if I disappointed in this house.
Popova, together with the towering grandson who had recognized me when the city burned, stood behind Mariska. I showed them inside as a silver coach pulled by two perfectly white horses, bones braided into their manes, turned onto the street. My great-grandmother was not circumspect. By morning, all would know the high priestess had visited the moneylender’s house.
She stepped out leaning on a cane, reminding me of meeting von Lemerch in this house. Had Ealhswip modeled her persona on one of the most powerful women in Tal?
As Morovara paused in the door, I dipped my head. Our familiarity was too new, she too much of an otherworldly power.
She lifted my chin with a warm hand.
“We’re family. That doesn’t mean I’ll agree to whatever you say tonight, but it does mean you can say it looking into my eyes, never fearing reprisals.” Her eyes drifted over my shoulder. “Ask that one. She’s called me all kinds of names.”
Lumi’s amusement slipped through our bond. She was invisible again but since our magic mixed, I felt her always at my side. I should not be surprised if Morovara had known Lumi was here before her carriage turned onto the street.
“Then I apologize in her place. It would not be the first time.” I smiled and it felt strange on my face.When was the last time I thought of my sister with happiness?
The last guest was someone Svetlana had recommended, and the only person I had never previously met.
The beauty striding down the street in a ball gown worthy of the palace was not what I expected. She smiled at the children, stepped in the mud without care, and had soot stains across her cheek and nose.
Nataliya von Paran, the much younger wife of the head of the Merchant’s Guild, who supposedly had her husband wrapped around her finger, looked me up and down before sweeping past as if she owned the house. Without Dimitri’s signature on the invite, I had not dared to approach her husband with my wild story, but perhaps this was even better.
“Are we in the study or dining room?” she called back as I locked the door and hurried after.
“In here,” Lana answered from the sitting room. “Seems I’m out a servant so you must pour your own wine. My stepsister insisted this gathering remain private.”
I stopped outside the doorway, world shifting again.
Lumi’s spectral hand found mine. That might be the first time Svetlana referred to me as any kind of sister, and to do so before some of the most powerful women in Tal… If I had needed a sign from the Wishmakerthat anything was possible, this was it.
