“But how can I do it without the guards noticing?”

“I’ll tell you how, but you have to promise me something.”

“What?”

“Just promise.”

He scowled, but she had obviously caught his curiosity. “So be it, I promise. Well, how do I throw it over without the guards seeing me do it?”

“I’ll go with you. We’ll say we want to go up and count the seagulls or something. They all think we’re children, anyway—they don’t pay any attention to what we do.”

“We are children. But why does you coming along help? I can throw it off myself, you know.” He looked down quickly at his clenched left hand. “I can get it into the water easily. It’s not very heavy.”

“Because I’m going to fall down just when we get to the top. You’ll be just in front of me and the guards will stop to help me—they’ll be terrified I’ve broken my leg or something—and you just step to the wall and…do it.”

He stared at her with admiration. “You’re clever, strawhead.”

“And you need someone like me to keep you out of trouble, redling. Now what about that promise?”

“Well?”

“I want you to swear on our blood oath that the next time you think of something like stealing a valuable statue out of the chapel, you’ll talk to me first.”

“I’m not your little brother, you know…!”

“Swear. Or the oath I made doesn’t count anymore.”

“Oh, very well. I swear.” He smiled a little. “I feel better.”

“I don’t. For one thing, think of all those servants who were stripped and searched and even beaten when Father Timoid was looking for the statue. It wasn’t their fault at all!”

“It never is. They’re used to it.” But he at least had the good sense to appear a little troubled.

“And what about Kernios? How is he going to feel about having his statue stolen and thrown into the sea?”

Barrick’s open expression shuttered again. “I don’t care about that. He’s my enemy.”

“Barrick! Don’t say such things about the gods!”

He shrugged. “Let’s go. Lady Simeon must have given up by now. We’ll come back and get the statue later. We can take it up to the wall tomorrow morning.” He stood, then reached down his good hand to help his sister, who was struggling with her long skirts. “We’d better clean this blood off our hands before we get back to the Residence or they’ll be wanting to know where we’ve been.”

“It’s not very much blood.”

“It’s enough to cause questions. They love to ask questions—and everyone pays attention to blood.”

Briony opened the pantry door and they slipped back out into the corridor, quiet as phantoms. The throne hall was also oddly quiet—tomb-silent, as though the immense old building had been holding its breath while it listened to the whispering voices in the pantry.

PART ONE

MASKS

1

Exiles

If, as many of the Deep Voices believe, the darkness is just as much a something as is the light, then which came first after Nothing—the dark or the light?