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Keil tensed as though with his own recollection, then withdrew the letter.

I gulped, inexplicably nervous. Now unsure of why I’d even wanted this letter except for the fact that it contained a slice of Erik’s mind, and I’d therefore had to take a glimpse.

I accepted the envelope with trembling fingers and reached inside.

Then gasped at a sudden stab of pain.

I whipped my fingers out and accidentally pulled a handful of small, sharp objects with me. They pattered to the floor and I lurched back, dropping the envelope. Dark red petals drifted around my feet.

“You’re bleeding,” Keil said, startled. But his voice sounded far away.

Because now I was staring downward, breathing fast, the taste of acid climbing up my throat. Holden must have taken Erik’s letter out long ago, because the envelope had been empty save for these rose petals, scattered inside it.

And there, alongside them, were dozens of little thorns.

28

The fete’s final jolly, representing the night of Saxon’s defeat, also represented our final night on Banarrat.

And therefore the last opportunity to enact our plans.

First, to honor the fallen Banarrati soldiers and the lovers they’d left behind, each courtier would spend their time with a single partner, bound in a faux marriage until the drums sounded.

Then, to commemorate the swarming battle, the jolly would overflow into the Crater for a night of collective decadence and debauchery.

Finally, in mimicry of how the soldiers had flung themselves from the cliffside to celebrate their triumph, the most thrill-seeking courtiers would climb the Aarai Cliff and dive into the dark waters below.

And Perla would be among them.

“You’re sure this is a good idea?” Keil had asked her.

“I’ve done cliff-diving back home,” she’d replied. “It’s not my preferred water sport, but I’m competent. I can make it to the eastern cave without surfacing.”

There, Lye would be waiting for her in a little boat, with the freshly copied key to her oath band. Perla would reset the band herself within the midnight window and then sail the boat back to the mainland along one of the smuggling routes Zeke had provided.

Without Perla as a bargaining tool, Erik would be forced to find another route to the Unbreakable Blade, not realizing it would already be too late.

Because tonight, we were launching a two-pronged attack.

While I would remain at the Crater to keep Holden and Finbar thoroughly distracted during a private dinner, the rest of the group—Valeria, Keil, Dashiel, and Goren—would filter out at various points of the evening, each visiting one of the four possible locations of Saxon’s tomb.

Though our group would be spread thinly, we’d estimated that they would all make it back inside the Crater by the end of the cliff-diving session, just as the news of Perla’s “drowning” threw the island into chaos.

If everything went to plan, we would have the sword by night’s end.

But the night had yet to begin.

My stomach churned with nerves as I stepped into the treasure hall, knowing it was the last time I would do so. While Valeria, Dashiel, and Lye had blended into the crowd, Goren and Keil now flanked me, the latter escorting me in on his arm.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, gazing toward the layers of gold-chained necklaces swaying low from the ceiling, softly tinkling over the music.

“It is.” Keil’s specter slipped inside my glove and threaded around my fingers, the intimate caress at odds with our public-facing formality. “I wish I could be here with you.”

As I met his gaze, my chest panged, because I knew what he meant. While we’d spent many balls together, we’d never been allowed to spend them together.

“Get ready,” Goren murmured.

I released Keil’s bicep, his specter flaring like a last kiss before it withdrew.