They move as I approach, shocked to see me here, bowing to me like I’m their queen.
Iron Sister Keffa rests on her back, breathing in short spurts. The old woman looks even smaller and frailer than before. Tere’s a red-stained bandage across her middle, diagonally from her shoulder, wrapping over her breasts, and down to her hip.
“Truehearts flog me, Keffa. What happened here? What diabolical things took place while we were gone?” I go to my knees and hold her clammy hand in mine so she doesn’t have to raise her voice.
She’s awake, but only just. A flicker of a smile plays across her lips, the skin around them beading with sweat. She looks feverish, likely from whatever wound she sustained beneath that bandage. “She f-fought him to the end, the poor child,” Keffa ekes out. Her voice is hardly more than a whisper. “We couldn’t help her, when it’s all s-said and done. Could w-we, Lady Lock?”
I blink emotion away, steeling myself. “Cyprilis? No, Iron Sister. She was sadly beyond saving. Who did she fight?”
I already know who, but I need to hear her say it.
“The Night Judge,” she says, with an almost awful reverence as she utters the name.
Of course. No wonder his army took so long to get to us in the Faith Ward. He was busy counterattacking.Lines crease my forehead. “He came here . . .by himself?”
“Like a great and powerful wind, blowing through the Firehold, child. He flew in and knew r-right where to go to find . . . Antones . . .” She speaks his name hesitantly, as if to make sure I’ve already discovered his fate.
I swallow hard and nod.
“. . . and your mother and I.”
My heart slams against my ribs, and I feel that if it happens again, I might pass out from shock. “J-Jinneth? What . . . What happened to my mother, Keffa?”
“Aramastun abducted her. He killed Antones in that gruesome fashion, came for us, and no one dared try to stop him.” She coughs lightly, turning her head, and closes her eyes before continuing. It’s clear the ancient woman needs rest, and I’m still not certain she’ll live. Keffa is the kind of woman who always seems on death’s door. But she’s also surprising, like when I learned she’s a total expert in swordfighting. Or cane-swordfighting.
“. . . No one dared stop him save for Sister Cyprilis and me. He killed Sister Cyprilis and gave me this tickle.” She gestures vaguely at the cavernous, bloody wound across her chest. Thetickle.“We tried protecting Jinneth but he was too powerful.” Her hand tightens on mine, bony and skeletal. “Told me to convey the message that you’d know where to find him. ‘Back in her cage where she belongs, where it all started,’ he said.”
I clench my jaw and nod slowly.Sutlis Spire.
The very heart of the Judgment Ward.
“Rest now, Keffa.” I pat her hand and slide from her vice grip. Slowly, I stand. I have all the information I need about this tragedy, and the Iron Sister needs sleep and healing. To thefour physicians looking over her, I ask in a low voice, “Will she survive?”
“We believe so, ma’am.”
I bare my right wrist from my sleeve, shoving the veins protruding along my forearm. “Then this should help.”
Skartovius steps in. “Temptress, wait, are you sure? You already—”
I hold up a hand to silence the nobleblood. He won’t tell me who I can and can’t help with my Loreblood.
When I’m done giving the physicians a bit of blood directly from the source—enough to help Keffa in her recovery—I turn to my mates with a somber expression.
“Here we go again,” I say. “My mother is missing and needs rescuing.”
“The Relic,” Vallan grunts, and it brings a sad smile to my face. That’s what she was once called by Iron Sister Keffa, in an urgent move to get us to rescue her lover from the prison hold underneath Sutlis Spire.
“We can’t go to the Judgment Ward, love,” Skar says. “You know that.”
“Of course we can. And will.”
“Your mother—”
“Will hate it, but it’s necessary. We need to end this, Skar. You read the wall: we take one, he takes two. We killed Valenthia, and he killed Antones and took my mother. Cyprilis and Keffa were collateral damage. It won’t stop here. It won’t stopever.” My anger grows, turning righteous and spitting. “Hasn’t your goal always been to topple the Five Ministries?”
“Aye. But not like this. Not with everyone dying in the process.”
“We’rethisclose!” I separate my thumb and finger apart by a hair. “We can’t give up now. I won’t do it. Jinneth wouldn’t.”