Page 1 of No Greater Sorrow

PARTI

1

THE APOSTATE

“The origins of the Dark Saints remain unknown, though some scholars speculate they were once humans favored by the Knowing One for their wicked deeds. Though this remains a mere theory, the magic required to undergo such a transmutation is so dangerous that, to the best of this author’s knowledge, not even the boldest of occultists have endeavored to try it.”

—Excerpt fromTen Myths of the Otherlandersby Emiel Nasir.

The day began in red,as dawn light shot through their curtains like bloodied spears. Aleja felt Nicolas leave their bed as the sun rose. When he returned, he breathed unevenly against her hair, as if something was lodged in his throat. She lay with her eyes open, listening for the click of a dog’s nails on the marble floors.

But only silence greeted her.

Time to get up. This is going to be a breeze. There’s nothing to it but surviving, said her inner voice, who’d been quiet since their visit to the Second’s cave beneath the mountains.

Easy for you to say, Aleja grumbled internally.

“Remember, don’t take any chances,” Nicolas said, his breath hot against the back of her neck. He spoke as if they’d already been in a conversation that’d been briefly interrupted. “Be aware of your surroundings at all times, but don’t trust anything you see. Take your weapon of choice and nothing else from the Second.”

“When do we start?” she asked in a voice muffled by the bedsheets. The scent of vanilla, woodsmoke, and sweat from her nightmares lingered on them.

“At nightfall, in the Second’s cave. You and Violet are to go together.”

Aleja rolled over and stared at the elaborately molded ceiling. Wooden serpents coiled above her; since spending time in the Hiding Place, she found herself at home in a den of vipers. “What will you do?” she asked.

“Wait for you. I’ll always wait for you.”

“That’s not what I meant, Nic. The Astraelis…”

“Taddeas is rallying our troops. He’ll reach the border by noon.”

“You can’t let him—you know he doesn’t want to?—”

“He always knew this was a possibility.” Nicolas touched her chin, moving her head so they made eye contact. “Focus on the Trials. The best thing you can do for Taddeas is to survive them.”

Aleja quieted. There were no words that could capture the dread moving through her, and not simply because of the Trials. Part of her wanted to rip the tunic from Nicolas’s chest to see what he’d been hiding after every breathless declaration of trust.

But she said and did nothing. Instead, she donned the leather armor Bonnie had brought from one of the storage sheds, then hooked the opalescent sickle to her belt. It was all Aleja carried, aside from a small gold box for which she did not have the key.

* * *

Bonnie and Violetwere already at the table when Aleja walked into the dining room that had appeared in the palace sometime after Violet’s arrival. It was this room that had been instrumental in coaxing Bonnie from the isolation of her cabin; when the Dark Saint of Bounty saw an empty table, she was compelled to fill it.

Today brought an impressive spread: soft-boiled eggs, pancakes stuffed with wild blackberries, thick strips of bacon, and a pot of coffee next to a pitcher of cream so dense it resembled yogurt.

The walls were carved to look like oak trunks, meeting overhead in a tangle of branches curving like gothic arches. Small golden stars were inlaid into the ceiling between them. The effect reminded Aleja of a forest gradually overtaking a ruined cathedral.

Violet nodded to her before dipping a strip of toast into her egg and half-heartedly picking at the crust. They’d barely spoken since Aleja let loose on the Astraelis convoy after… after Garm’s death. It was because of this, they no longer had one year to train. Instead, they had only until the end of the day.

I must say, I’m proud of you. In less than twenty-four hours, you’ve managed to piss off almost everyone in the Hiding Place, said Aleja’s inner voice. She shoved a slice of bacon in her mouth. Unlike Violet, food was the one thing that helped when she was nervous.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Bonnie said, so brightly that Aleja knew she must have sensed the tension between the others in the room. “Taddeas wanted me to tell you?—”

A loud clatter came from the hall. As if summoned, Taddeas entered first, wearing two axes strapped across his back and a chest plate bearing the Hiding Place’s snake crest. Lines deepened around the corners of his mouth as he frowned. One of his braids, normally tied together at the base of his skull, hung limp against his face.

“I thought you were headed to the border,” Nicolas said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. Aleja caught the way his silver eyes narrowed.

“I was, until?—”

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