I can’t stop staring at his arm. How it’s just . . . gone. “What happened?”

“The wound got infected. Skin changing strange colors. The Tender decided it was best to take my arm before it spread to my heart.”

I swallow, taking in this information. “How long until you’re out of here?”

“Any day now.”

“Good. That’s good. I’m running a scouting trip above the Backbone and I want you with me. If you feel up to it.”

He frowns. “Don’t you think I’ll slow you down?”

“Kara the Prime is blind in one eye. Bronx the Chemist can’t set foot comfortably in the sun. You have one arm.” I shrug. “So long as you feel up to it, I don’t see why I wouldn’t want you.”

He nods. “I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, brother.”

The night before I’m set to leave, I find Asher in his room. He’s standing at the window, gazing out over Verdant, his forearms resting on the sill.

“You’re not packing,” I say.

He glances over his shoulder, frowns. “You never asked me to come.”

“I thought it went without saying.”

He rolls his eyes. “You are the Verity now. I don’t assume anything.”

“If I’m the Verity, so are you. We’re two halves of a whole, right? We both have the truth marked on our backs.”

He smirks. “I’m not sure the Prime would agree with that, but I like the sentiment, Verity.”

I groan. “Don’t call me that. I can handle it when the others do, but not you.” A pause. “Did you decide which pillar you’ll serve here? It’s not like there are saltpeter beds around.”

“The Chemist would love me to move back to Powder Town to man them. I hear she left this morning, and I’m shocked that she didn’t drag me with her.”

I smirk. We all watched the Chemist ride off with a small detail at dawn. She’s been running Powder Town and overseeing production since the battle, but the Prime had called for her a few days ago and she made the trip to Bedrock for some meetings. I gave her a message when she left—told her to send Clay to us the next time she sees him. He has a daughter to meet.

“The Chemist could request you any time,” I tease. “Especially once we train more falcons.”

Asher angles toward me. He touches the scar on my brow, the three newer ones from the General’s falcon. “I thought it would be obvious,” he says softly, “which pillar I want to serve.” His lips brush mine, and he whispers, “I want nothing more than to please the Verity.” He kisses my neck, nips my ear. “What can I do? Tell me, and I’ll do it right now.”