Mykaela closed her eyes. “The poor man. The gods rest his soul. He’s our problem now. Yours is to take Tea safely to Yadosha.”

Inessa stepped forward, reaching up to hug me tight. “I bring nothing of importance to this conversation,” she said softly, “beyond shielding Mykaela from suspicion. But I wish you all the best, and I hope we can bring you back here, absolved of all guilt.” She turned to my brother. “Fox?”

My brother said nothing, his head lowered. I reached out to him. The Veiling still stood between us, but I could sense faint stirrings of emotions—betrayal, anguish, mourning. Anger. So much anger. I trembled. He was not yet ready to forgive me. “It’s all right, Inessa.”

Kalen settled himself behind me; Likh and Khalad mounted their own horses.

I love you, I said softly. Something shifted on Fox’s end, but he made no reply. I let Kalen wrap his cloak around me, hiding my face from view, and watched as he took the reins. Soon, all three horses were racing down the road at breakneck speed.

“We might need assistance with the guards,” Khalad told me. “Are you up for it?”

I nodded and focused. I reached out with Scrying, letting it drift toward the city gates. I found a soldier’s mind. Ignore us, I ordered, weaving Compulsion into the mix, and felt it settle. I spread out farther afield, calming the thoughts of every soldier I could find. Without anyone chasing us or sounding the alarm, it was easier to escape this time.

Open the gates, I told the last guard, and the heavy doors creaked before us. I held my breath, expecting someone to let out a warning, for the army to mobilize and surround us, for all this to be a trap, but all I could see as we headed out of the city were the gate tower fires and blinking lights of wayward lampposts as we left home for the last time.

“You let her get away!” Lady Altaecia is a different person when she’s angry. Her bobbed hair rises up like the inflamed comb of a rooster, and her round proportions suddenly become oddly angular. “Why didn’t you call for us? What possessed you to rush to the graveyard—not with a handful of soldiers or Deathseekers, but with a bard you endangered! You knew you could not take her on your own. Any elder with enough malice could claim aiding and abetting!”

The older asha had reason for her ire, but Fox was implacable, emotions disguised to prevent scrutiny. He had been reading part of the Dark asha’s letter when the older woman barged in, and he’d smoothed the papers on the table, fingers lingering on the final words of one page, before focusing his attention on her.