To Ren’s surprise, Zofi nodded. “Ren, your mother already knows something’s wrong. So does your friend Audrina. And Rozalind. Sands, probably even Vidal. We don’t need to tell anyone why we need help. But we can ask them to watch our backs. Besides, nonrelatives are good. They’re immune to the heir’s curses. Well, assuming the heir doesn’t come from your mother’s side, Ren,” she added with an attempt at a smile.

Ren managed a weak one in return. “Let’s hope I’m not their relative twice over.” Then she groaned and sank back into her cushions.

“We’ll let you get some rest,” Akeylah said, intuitive as always.

“In the meantime, Akeylah and I will research the curses the heir has used. See if there’s a way to defend ourselves.” Zofi reached over to squeeze her shoulder. “We’ll figure this out.”

Ren bobbed her head. Smiled weakly as the girls left the room. A moment later, her mother returned, her face the very picture of disapproval.

“Mama…”

“I won’t keep you up,” Mama said. “You need sleep. I just wanted to tell you I’m here if you need me.” She set a full tumbler of water on the bedside table. “Your friend Audrina had to work, but she asked me to let you know she’ll visit soon.”

Ren nodded, eyelids already fluttering shut. “Thanks,” she managed.

Mama tucked the covers under her chin. The last thing Ren heard before she drifted off was her mother murmuring, “You’re safe now.”

Even half-asleep, she knew it for a lie.

3

Zofi

Did you know Lord Rueno is our cousin from two different lines?” Akeylah asked from across the table where they sat, deep in the bowels of the library, alone save for the muttering librarian at the distant front desk. “That makes Lexana our third cousin, but twice over.”

“I still doubt she’s a close enough relative to work curses as strong as the heir’s,” Zofi replied with a distracted frown at her own book. “Keep looking into it, though.”

“What have you found? Anything?” Akeylah nodded toward the textbook.

“I’ve been reviewing shield tithes.”

Akeylah tilted her head. “Never heard of them.”

“My mother taught me when I was little, but I’d forgotten.… Travelers don’t find much use for defensive tithes.”

“Because you prefer offense?” Akeylah guessed.

“Because we don’t keep angry blood relatives around to curse us in the first place.” Zofi laid the book flat. On the page was a hyperrealistic drawing of a man spread-eagled with a grayish outline overlaying his skin. “It’s kind of like the impervious tithe—you know, the one that turns your skin silver, makes blades glance off you like they’re hitting stone.”

Akeylah squinted at the drawing. “I remember it.”