Horden’s cry of pain faded to a gurgle. Sevaka spun around, the dagger slipping free from the bonds about Rosa’s ankles. A lithe woman in Freemont uniform held the captain’s dying body at arm’s length.

Sevaka didn’t recognise the kernclaw at first, not without the cloak of feathers. But the poise, the self-assurance – those betrayed her. And the face. The face that was an older, darker mirror of her own . . .

The kernclaw let Horden’s body fall. It bounced a bloody smear down the outer face of the pyre and struck the brazier. Hot coals scattered across timber. Sap spat and crackled.

“Come with me.” The kernclaw’s grey eyes pleaded as she spoke. “I’ll beg our mother to spare you. She’ll listen, I swear it.”

She advanced as she spoke, timber rocking under her boots. Sevaka stared, transfixed by the face that was hers, and yet was not. Another of her mother’s secrets. “You don’t know her at all, do you?”

She drew closer. “Please. I don’t want to hurt you. We’re family.”

“I don’t have any family! Not any more!”

Sevaka lunged, her dagger flashing at the kernclaw’s eyes. It missed. Her balled fist did not. It struck the kernclaw’s jaw with a fleshy thud. Her head snapped aside, and she skidded back a pace across the logs.

The first flames licked up from below.

“Not so impressive without that cloak, are you?”

“Didn’t you hear me?” said the kernclaw. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“I don’t give a damn what you want!”

Flames raced hungrily up the pyre. Sevaka’s boot sent a log skittering across the pyre. It smacked into the kernclaw’s leg and pinwheeled away. But even that small gesture left Sevaka’s legs leaden. The kernclaw was holding back. She had to be. As soon as that changed . . .

The kernclaw sprang through the greasy smoke. Timber bucking beneath her feet, she closed the distance in two graceful strides.

Sevaka swung. The kernclaw ducked beneath the dagger and rammed a fist into her gut. Sevaka retched desperately in the inky smoke. Her knees struck timber.

“Don’t make me do this.” The kernclaw’s breath washed warm over the nape of Sevaka’s neck. “I beg you.”

Smoke swirled up around the Raven, hiding Sevaka and the kernclaw from Rosa’s fading sight.

“Take my hand,” said the Raven.

“I’m not coming with you.”

“Ah. Then the Evermoon it is. The easy way out.”

Again that knowing smile. Rosa hated it.

“I’m not . . . going anywhere.” She gritted her teeth. There was another choice, beyond Ashana and beyond the Raven. And strange though it was, Rosa could have sworn he’d wanted her to see it. “My friend . . . needs me.”

Straining fingers found the gibbet’s upright. Heels dug against timber. Gathering her last strength, Rosa arched her back.