Ranka couldn’t help herself. Excitement mixed with the ache of loneliness. Maybe this witch could be reasoned with. Maybe she could be saved.

Death was all around, but it was concentrated in the room at the end of the hall, and it was there she scented warm blood. She moved forward, shifting broken furniture out of her way, sidestepping glass.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” Ranka called. “It’s okay. I’m a blood-witch too. I’m here to help.”

Belren flashed behind her eyes. What she wouldn’t have given for another blood-witch that day. Someone to pluck her out of the snow and explain how to keep living once your humanity had been ripped away.

She would have given anything, for anyone at all.

“Please,” the voice begged. “Go away.”

Ranka pushed open the door.

A girl of around fourteen cowered in the corner of her bedroom, a piece of jagged glass held out in front of her. Blood matted her yellow hair. She was scrawny, covered in scratches, and where her left thumb should have been there was only a sad knob of bone. But it was the sores on her pale skin that took Ranka’s breath away. The blisters were tiny, no bigger than nailheads, and instead of black this girl’s fingernails were a dull gray. She had Vivna’s eyes—a soft, washed-out blue.

Disappointment flashed through Ranka. Not a real blood-witch. Another sick one—and recently infected, at that.

The girl cringed backward. “You can’t be here. You can’t. You need to go.”

Down the hall, the floorboards creaked.

Ranka crouched and held out a hand. “I can help you. I’m Ra—I’m the Bloodwinn.” The title still felt wrong, but the flicker of recognition in the girl’s eyes pushed her forward. “Come to the palace with me, and you’ll be under my protection.”

Was that even true? She didn’t know. The humans would probably sneer at her. Who was she to think anyone would listen to her? To think after a lifetime of killing, she could save someone instead?

Ranka kept her voice soft. “What’s your name?”

“Talis.” Tears streamed down the girl’s face.

“Nice to meet you, Talis. I’m Ranka.”

“You need to leave.”

“I won’t hurt you. Making the barricade to keep yourself in was smart, but—”

“I didn’t make it to keep myself in,” the girl sobbed. “I made it to keep her out.”

The girl pointed behind Ranka.

And behind Ranka, something breathed.

Pain exploded across the back of her head. Ranka pitched forward, her jaw hitting the floor with a painful crack. The door slammed on the first floor.