“We’ll drink to Corvus later,” Drom says, shoving me up the stairs so hard I nearly fall. I glare at her over my shoulder, and she grins back. It’s hard to tell whether she thinks she’s helping or is just being an asshole. I sigh and trudge upward, shaking her hand off.

The floors above hold quiet hallways lined with doors. We’re lucky that Titan, unlike Gaia, has need for inns like these. With soldiers moving between cities, and refugees fleeing areas affected by the war, places like this can turn a good profit. Judging by the soft conversation floating out of some of the rooms, a decent number of them are currently occupied. We keep moving, heading all the way to the fifth floor before Momma exits the stairwell and heads down the hall. She stops outside a room near the end and knocks.

I take a small step back, my heart thudding in my ears.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea,” I say. “Maybe I’ll go down to the bar and grab us a round—”

The door swings open, and the rest of the words die in my throat as I see Corvus standing in the doorway.

Parts of my brother are the same as I remember them. He has the same stern eyebrows and bumpy nose, the same narrow shoulders and lean build. But his hair is cropped shorter than he ever wore it before, and his face is shadowed by a bristly beard, and his frown lines are nearly as deep as Momma’s. The thick scar that cuts across the left side of his face is new, and so is the black, numbered brand on his right wrist. The worst, though, are his eyes. They’re two dark pits in his pale olive face, ringed with shadows that weren’t there before.

His eyes flicker over the rest of the family before meeting mine. We look at one another across the space between us.

My chest is tight and airless. Stars, I want to hug him. I want to hit him. I want to cry and shout and tell him that I missed him, that I’m glad he’s alive, that I hate him for leaving, that I’m scared he’s not the same brother I loved so much before. I will myself to crack a joke to break the tension, to say something, anything, but the words stick in my throat.

Corvus speaks first.

“Hey,” he says. “Been a while.” His voice is rough, and his eyes bore into mine as if the words are meant for just me.

“Sure has.” I try to speak in the same way, but it comes out too quiet, too uncertain. I thought I was ready for this, but seeing him is like a punch to the stomach. I clear my throat, search for something to say.