Anastacia eyed him uncertainly. “When I gave Karkosa what he wanted, he flew into a rage. I’m here because I told him the truth and he couldn’t bear it.”

She spun around and stared into the east once more.

If this was a lie, it was better than the first, the flat certainty all the more compelling because Anastacia made no effort to convince him. Viktor wasn’t sure if he believed her, but Karkosa had believed, and the tapestry of his life had unravelled. And then he’d locked Anastacia far, far away to keep her truth hidden.

And, when it came down to it, how many explanations could there be to explain a creature like Anastacia?

“Why didn’t Karkosa destroy you?”

“Do you really think anyone could?”

“Yes.”

Bitter laughter returned. “You are no flatterer, Lord Akadra. As to why Karkosa acted as he did, I can offer no answers. From what you say it’s too late to demand any of him. And now you too are bound to the truth that drove him mad. Let us both hope you bear it better.”

“You’ve never told Josiri the truth about yourself, have you?”

“He has burdens enough. I’ve no desire to add to them.”

“And what if I tell him?”

“Then your secret would remain so no longer.”

Viktor’s cheek twitched. “You can prove nothing.”

“Nor can you.”

“And nor do I wish to. We can help each other, you and I,” he replied. “I need to change Josiri’s mind, and I’m told you are the key to that. In turn, I’ll grant your freedom. Wherever fate leads him, you can be together, if that is your wish.”

The hope returned to her eyes. “A brooch will not set me free of this place.”

“I’m a man of many aspirations. I can always make room for another.”

The distant strike of metal on stone set Calenne’s teeth on edge. It grew louder with every step, the chiming of some tortured, misshapen bell decrying her stupidity for returning to Branghall. She pressed a hand to her ward-brooch and reassured herself that this wasn’t some peculiar, heartless dream.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

The worst of it was, she wasn’t even sure why she’d returned. Yes, the letter had summoned her, but there was no compulsion to answer. Guilt again, she supposed. This time born of sitting idle while others strove to fulfil her family’s responsibilities.

Anastacia met her at the manor gate. The demon seemed quiet, subdued.

Reason enough to be concerned.

Clang! Clang!

“Where is he?” Calenne asked.

“The chapel.”

The one room Anastacia avoided like a noblewoman avoided a beggar’s nest? Stranger and stranger. “Do you know why he sent for me?”

“I didn’t know he had.”

Calenne left the demon behind. Servants shot her questioning looks. She ignored them. What answer could she give?

Clang! Clang!