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Chapters (68)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Chapter 1
  4. Chapter 2
  5. Chapter 3
  6. Chapter 4
  7. Chapter 5
  8. Chapter 6
  9. Chapter 7
  10. Chapter 8
  11. Chapter 9
  12. Chapter 10
  13. Chapter 11
  14. Chapter 12
  15. Chapter 13
  16. Chapter 14
  17. Chapter 15
  18. Chapter 16
  19. Chapter 17
  20. Chapter 18
  21. Chapter 19
  22. Chapter 20
  23. Chapter 21
  24. Chapter 22
  25. Chapter 23
  26. Chapter 24
  27. Chapter 25
  28. Chapter 26
  29. Chapter 27
  30. Chapter 28
  31. Chapter 29
  32. Chapter 30
  33. Chapter 31
  34. Chapter 32
  35. Chapter 33
  36. Chapter 34
  37. Chapter 35
  38. Chapter 36
  39. Chapter 37
  40. Chapter 38
  41. Chapter 39
  42. Chapter 40
  43. Chapter 41
  44. Chapter 42
  45. Chapter 43
  46. Chapter 44
  47. Chapter 45
  48. Chapter 46
  49. Chapter 47
  50. Chapter 48
  51. Chapter 49
  52. Chapter 50
  53. Chapter 51
  54. Chapter 52
  55. Chapter 53
  56. Chapter 54
  57. Chapter 55
  58. Chapter 56
  59. Chapter 57
  60. Chapter 58
  61. Chapter 59
  62. Chapter 60
  63. Chapter 61
  64. Chapter 62
  65. Acknowledgments
  66. Also by Max Gladstone
  67. About the Author
  68. Copyright

Her jaw clamped and her arms tensed and her nails bit into her wrists and forearms. She would have stood and kicked the box across the warehouse, but she didn’t want to waste the rice.

She stared instead into the steam and imagined fingers around a throat, and didn’t know whose throat or whose fingers. A Penitent patrol marched by outside in thunderous array. She did not flinch. They passed. Even their echoes failed.

“Hey,” Cat said a few minutes later. “Sorry I’m late.”

Izza twitched to her feet, whole body taut at once. Her eyes were used to the dark by now. The mainland woman stood by the hole in the warehouse wall. Must have crept in while Izza wasn’t looking. Stupid. Distracted, feeling sorry for herself.

She tried to look calm, but still she took a step back as Cat neared. The woman’s limp was better, not yet healed. She moved slowly over rubble, into and out of light.

“I thought you left,” she said.

“I went for a walk, got lost in the warrens. Too many side streets. I need you to help me make a map.”

“I thought,” she repeated.

“I’m here now.” Cat spoke slowly, hands out. “I just took a walk, that’s all. Trust me. When it’s time to leave, you’ll know. You’ll be ready. Okay?”

“I brought you rice.”

“Thanks,” Cat said, and sat, and ate.

The next day, Izza stole a purse and did not sell it: kept it, rather, on the altar in the hidden warehouse chapel, under the gaze of dead gods. The day after that, she stole two, and the next two more. Building a little storehouse for the kids, tribute to whatever new gods they might find after she was gone.

She’d leave them ready. But she’d leave all the same.

Chapter 7

7

Kai woke to find a folded letter on her sickroom sheets, parchment marked in spindly writing that faded as she read: “My office, one hour. —J.” Economical. She placed the paper, folded again, on her bedside table, stood with aid of cane, and staggered to the bathroom. Sleep gummed her mind and body. At least Jace didn’t come to her by nightmare. Her dreams the last few weeks had been dark and drowning.