The night air is frigid. Fog rolls across the hilly terrain. I shove my hands into the pockets of my cloak, and my fingers close around Gran’s healed bone like it’s a lifeline. I think of watching myself sail away from Midwood on my other path. How I gazed up at the sky dotted with stars and thought they looked like bones scattered on velvet. I felt as if I could divine the whole world’s fate if I only knew how to read them.

But tonight the clouds are so thick, I can’t see a single star. The fate of Kastelia is a mystery.

The six of us hike down the now-familiar path into the city. We could have waited until morning to leave Ivory Hall, but our meeting with Norah left us all raw and restless. None of us would have felt safe enough to close our eyes within those walls tonight. And so we gathered enough supplies to make it through the next few days and then we left. The city streets are deserted. Lamplight puddles on the cobbles.

We find a bench and sit, huddled together against the cold.

“I’m sorry,” I say, finally. “I’ve ruined this for everyone.”

“Latham ruined it,” Bram mutters. “Norah did.”

“Why didn’t you tell us about your mastery tattoo?” Tessa asks. Her voice is soft. Careful. But I don’t miss how it’s shot through with an undercurrent of pain.

“You knew I could use Third Sight. You saw me do it in Latham’s shop.”

“Yes,” she says gently, “so why not tell us about the tattoo?”

“I don’t know. After Jensen—”

“Latham did it on purpose,” Bram says. “He gave us a trial that would make Saskia feel like she couldn’t trust us. It was designed to be a wedge.”

He’s right. Of course, he’s right. Latham has been controlling the bone games to torture me as much as possible this whole time. But the way Bram says it—as if he’s come to some realization that’s left him troubled—gives me the nagging sense that I’m missing something.

“Well, it didn’t work,” Jacey says. “We’re not going to abandon you.”

I sigh. “Maybe you should.”

Talon snorts. “That’s ridiculous. We would never.” His hand is still clutched around the details for our next challenge, which has grown limp with sweat.

Niklas drops his gaze to the folded parchment. “We should probably see which criminal we’re supposed to find.”

“I guess we should,” Talon says. His hands shake as he opens the document and spreads it over his lap.