Isabelle had never seen a land so inhospitable or ugly, but there could be no doubt that this was where Hasdrubal had gone, for out in deep water stood a quondam ruin. Broken towers poked up from the water’s surface like the ribs of a dead man. Twisted and crumpled bridges threaded the structures and spilled out into the surrounding water.

A hawk circling above glided in and became Bitterlich upon landing. His disposition was as neat as always, but there was a strain of fear behind his eyes.

He saluted. “Capitaine. I’ve found no sign of any of our quarry, but I have found a causeway to that ruin.”

“Thank you, Major,” she said. “Lead on.”

“Isabelle,” Jean-Claude said. “I mean, Capitaine. Request permission to stay behind.”

Isabelle was shocked. She could not imagine Jean-Claude would not want to be at the head of the hunting pack, but his face was set and grim.

“You need a rearguard,” he said. “Travers doesn’t know where the Vault is. He was too slow to follow Hasdrubal. I imagine he’ll think he’s clever if he lets you find it for him and then tries to take it from you.”

“I understand,” Isabelle said. He’d led Hasdrubal to Aria and she’d paid with her life.

“Fool me once,” Jean-Claude said.

“I should stay with him,” Marie said, and that made sense too. Of all of them she had the biggest advantage against the Sanguinaire.

“Take care of each other,” Isabelle said, her throat tight.

“And you…” Jean-Claude turned to Bitterlich. Somehow Bitterlich had ended up holding Isabelle’s hand. Or rather they held each other’s.

Jean-Claude nodded slowly as if in answer to some unspoken question, and said, “Major Bitterlich, it’s your turn to keep her safe.”

Isabelle felt as if she were falling, for in the weight of his words was not just now, but untold years to come.

“To my last breath,” Bitterlich said, his voice the steady flame of a torch being passed. He saluted Jean-Claude, who returned the gesture.

Isabelle’s heart squeezed so hard that she thought it might split. This was not goodbye. Must not be. She strode to Jean-Claude and Marie, never had she missed her right arm more than when she wanted to embrace them both at once. Tears stood in her eyes as she finally relinquished her life grip on her oldest friends, her dearest family, extended her hand palm-down, and said, “May the Builder keep you safe from harm.”

They replied palms-up, “Until the Savior comes to take you home.”

CHAPTER

Thirty-One