For the next three days, Kit watched the news media with an obsessive attention. She rose early every morning to journey into the city and find one of the gulden monitors (there were none to be found anywhere near Sereva’s neighborhood). The indigo media, she was sure, would not cover the news she was interested in, the news she was most afraid of hearing: that Jex Zanlan was dead.

The gulden monitors did carry the first piece of information she watched for, the fact that Jex had been released. The item was the lead story on all the monitors, though she noticed it did not make it into the indigo media until the following day. She expected the streets to be filled with outraged citizens, blueskins storming the Complex to protest, but she appeared to be the only one in the city who had noted that particular paragraph, who cared at all about the fate of Jex Zanlan.

He must be well and truly on the path to death, or Ariana Bayless would not have risked releasing him. Kit knew she must scan the monitors every day to glean what information she could.

But the next morning, what she read on the gulden news screens was an article about the other man she loved. And it was even more shocking.

*   *   *

“Kitrini, what’s wrong? Are you sick?” Sereva demanded as Kit staggered into her cousin’s office, clutching a hard copy of the story. “Sit down. What happened? Claressa, go get me some water,” she directed at her secretary before flying back to Kit’s side. “What’s wrong?”

Kit held out the hard copy, but Sereva merely glanced at it impatiently. “What is that? I can’t read it.”

“Article,” Kit whispered. “Nolan’s gone to the gulden media with the story of the virus.”

“What?” Sereva demanded and snatched the paper from Kit’s hand as if she had miraculously summoned up the ability to read gold-tongue. “What does it say?”

“Everything. Ariana Bayless. Cerisa Daylen. Chay Zanlan. Everybody is named. And—” Kit shook her head. She couldn’t swallow. The words were caught in her throat, hurting her, cutting off her air. “And—”

Sereva was studying the paper again. “Is this him? This picture? This is Nolan?” Kit nodded. “So it names him, too. The stupid man, he’s just ruined his life. He’s ruined their lives. I can’t imagine—what in the world can come of this—?”

“It’s worse,” Kit said, still in that hoarse, constricted voice. “He’s made up another virus. For blueskins.”

“A virus for the indigo? A—you mean, a disease? He’s created a disease for his own people? Why would he do that? Why would—and how would the gulden papers know about that?”

“He told them. And he told them that he—he gave the virus—he gave it to the gulden—”