“What happened, Vi?” Beau’s tone softens as he gently pulls me out of the shallow grave. He searches my face for answers that I’m not ready to give. I wonder if he hears my heart breaking, if he hears my soul shattering with every gulp of air I force in.
As he eyes me expectantly, all I can think about is that only yesterday we were having tea together in their kitchen, and now Sylas will never drink tea again. But it’s not even about tea. It’s that Sylas and I ended before we could even begin.
“I never told him I loved him,” I sob, and Beau wraps his arms around me again.
“He knew.” Beau nods against my head, warm tears trickling onto my scalp. “He knew, Vi.”
Gryff stifles a sob. We stand there for a few minutes, Beau’s arms around me, Gryff unable to hold back tears, and me cursing every breath I take. The silence builds and builds until it cracks with a passing gust of wind.
I gently push away from Beau.
“I’m not letting you go until you can stand on your own.” He loosenshis grip on me, and I nod. “I’m… I’ll be all right.” I want to die, I should’ve said instead.
Pulling away, I wipe my eyes with the backs of my hands and steady myself with a deep breath.
“This isn’t how I wanted to meet you.” Gryff sighs at me, his lower lids red and heavy with grief. “Sylas loved…” He doesn’t finish his thought.
Boots thump against the wet grass, and the three of us break apart, aspiers alert. But it’s only Overseer Paltro. He rushes toward us, like a stray deer, his craggy face strained. When he notices me, his steps slow. His eyes fall on the golden aspier around my neck, then on Scar and Railesza coiled next to each other around my left forearm.
“Where is Sylas?” he barks.
We don’t say a word, and suddenly I’m back in my kitchen, listening to the sheriff tell us that Olivia is dead. The same feeling weighs my tongue down; that maybe if we don’t say it aloud, it means it isn’t real.
“Miss Corvi, report to DOTS immediately for the murder of Sylas Archyr and the theft of three aspiers.” He doesn’t even look at me.
I’ll gladly report to DOTS if they sentence me to immediate death and are somehow able to kill me with the Imortalis.
I move forward, but Gryff steps in front of me, and Beau places a protective arm around my shoulders.
“Uncle.” Beau glares at Paltro. “Sylas is dead because no one took the reports of a potential Grimm copycat seriously. Gorhail, Firstline, and DOTS were busy burying the murders and blaming them on random poacher attacks. Until you took over days ago, they were still trying to convince everyone that a Grimm copycat was just propaganda. But we know now that Grimm himself is back, andhekilled Sylas. You can’t possibly be pinning the blame on Viola.”
Paltro considers me for a moment, his round glasses low on his nose. Then his eyes fall on Raiek again, and his lips pull up in disdain. “Rules are rules, Beau, and as chief of Firstline, it is my duty to report her to DOTS.”
“You can’t—” Beau says, but Paltro interrupts him.
“Your blind loyalty should be to your House, not to a Mortemagi crossmage who killed your brother and sent your sister into an irreversible mindtrap,” he spits.
Around Beau’s arm, Briar stirs, her eyes locked on Paltro. Then Scar slithers up the length of my arm, glides over Raiek, and settles with her head next to my cheek. She hisses at Paltro, and he lifts his nose at her.
“What will you do, Chief? Throw her in prison to appease public unrest while the real murderer roams free?” Gryff shifts his weight, his cool blue aspier slithering around his neck. “Because that’s what the administration does; it spends more resources on maintaining status quo than facing the truth of its failure to keep us safe.”
“Perhaps she didn’t kill Sylas, but that doesn’t explain why she has two of his aspiers.” Paltro lets go of his own aspier, and the serpent pauses at my boots before slithering to where Sylas died.
“They’re bonded,” Beau blurts out. Did Sylas tell him?
“One-way bonds hardly count,” Paltro scoffs. “It won’t stand in court.”
“They’re double bonded,” Gryff adds. “We witnessed it: Beau, Lyria, and I. Our bonds are above the law—you know that. Our aspiers speak for us when we cannot, and the Imortalis haschosen, and it isn’t within our right to question the first aspier.”
Of course, they weren’t there. They’re lying… for me.
“I’m sure you and Beau won’t have any trouble testifying under a reader’s touch then.” Paltro’s nostrils flare, and he folds his arms behind his back. After a brief pause, he looks at Gryff. “Unsealed crossmages still face execution, Mr. Darro.”
Gryff’s arm tenses, but Beau reaches for his shoulder. At the same time, a figure rushes toward us. My tears cloud who it is. The closer she gets, the more clearly I can make out the crown braid that sits tight on her head. She shoves past Paltro, past Gryff and Beau, and takes me in her arms, and the moment she says my name, I crumble.
The air fills with the piercing sound of my own sobs. I don’t stop. I can’t. I don’t want to be roped into the politics of DOTS. I just want Sylas back.
“Report to DOTS within the hour.” Paltro turns around and begins walking, leaving us behind.