Page 33 of No Greater Sorrow

“Listen to me, Knowing One. Authoritiesassimilateother minds. Get her out of there before they find her. They’ll see the consciousness of a lone woman wandering into their mind as a snack,” Val said.

“Why so eager? Afraid she’ll uncover more of your secrets?” Nicolas asked.

“Nic, please,” Aleja said. She hated the wobble in her voice, but not one of the Dark Saints looked at her. All had their eyes fixed on Violet.

Violet’s next words were garbled and made Aleja feel like a needle was slowly being driven into her ear. She clapped her hands around her head, but the sudden commotion in the tent could not be smothered.

Unable to swallow for all the dread in her chest, Aleja realized what was happening. Liam and Nicolas had both spoken this language to her, but that was before her first Trial, and the words had sounded like chaotic static.

The Astraelis language.

Nicolas reached for Violet’s hand as she tried to scramble away. It was no use. The tent was small and the Knowing One was vastly stronger and faster. The bones scattered across the ground and Violet glared up at him with fury in her eyes. “I could have found out more!”

“A hint of the Astraelis from the well must still exist within you; it let the connection flow both ways. I never should have let you do this,” he said.

“But—”

“Enough. What happened stays in this room,” Nicolas said. “And, Violet, I’m sorry to have to do this, but you’re not to attend any more of our meetings until you’ve finished the Trials. I will provide information to you on a need-to-know basis.”

Garm jumped from Aleja’s lap as she shot to her feet before Violet could reply. She had a horrible feeling about what Violet was about to say, and though Aleja didn’t want to hear it, she wanted the Dark Saints to hear it even less. “You did good, Vi. You did really fucking good, but we have a Trial coming up. We both need to rest.”

Violet looked up. A dark, wild anger filled her eyes. Even back when Violet was possessed, she’d never glared at Aleja like this. Violet opened her mouth, but as her cheeks reddened, she turned away and her empty hands curled into the dirt floor.

Bonnie crouched down beside her. “Come on, you must be hungry. If you don’t feel like sleeping, you can help me distribute rations.”

Aleja breathed a sigh of relief when Violet left without argument. She knew what must be on the minds of the remaining Dark Saints. How could they trust Violet when she was tethered to the Astraelis by a thread? She wanted to make an argument in Violet’s favor, to explain that it wasn’t her fault she’d drunk the well water, but Orla lifted a hand to examine her bright yellow nails.

“The girl did better than I would have. One of the Authorities nearly swallowed me once, and I just about pissed myself. But, Val, let’s not get distracted, shall we?” Orla said.

“You heard the girl,” Val answered quickly. “She exonerated me. And I had no idea the Astraelis had captured one of your own. A smith is needed to craft chains that can hold the Third. The Astraelis couldn’t manage it, even with my research, but they must know that the Dark Saint of Sloth is a descendent of…”

Bonnie and Orla made brief eye contact, and Aleja was reminded of how much of her old life she couldn’t remember. Whatever realization the others had come to, she was not a part of it.

“And this?” Nicolas asked, pulling the small orb from an interior pocket of his tunic. It lit his face from below, making him look every bit the villain.

“Where did you get that?”

“I’m asking the questions, not you. If the next word out of your mouth isn’t an answer, you’re going to regret it. You’ve lied to us enough already.”

Garm growled, his teeth reflecting the orb’s light. Aleja half-expected it to sound ridiculous when coming out of a puppy’s body, but Garm was still a hellhound, and hedefinitelylooked bigger than he had yesterday.

Val’s mask tightened as the wings drew closer to each other. “If I’d destroyed all my research before I left, they would have known I’d defected and come after me sooner. Everything was heavily warded with a code only I could break. But I couldn’t leave themalllike that. It would look suspicious. So, I created some Luminariums, as we call them, containing… misleading information.”

“Information like what?” Orla asked.

“The Astraelis were never going to be able to catch the Third if they didn’t know how to get him to materialize,” Val answered. “Most of my false leads were meant to waste their time—especially claims that I’d discovered a link between the Third and his realm, like that between the Second and the Hiding Place.”

“That link doesn’t exist?” Aleja said.

“No. The Second created the Hiding Place; that’s why he and the Knowing One’s magic are inexorably tied to it. The Third did not make his realm. It is a spell woven by humans.”

“What do you mean?”

“Billions of humans over hundreds of thousands of years imagining the world of the dead. There is magic in that. All of it needed to go somewhere, and since it didn’t have a place for itself, it made one. Anyway, I purposefully picked a research assistant with no imagination whatsoever. He and the Messenger will run themselves ragged before they figure out how to get the Third’s attention. And if he can simply be convinced to stay away, all the Messenger’s plans will be useless,” Val said with a chuckle.

“Hold on. Why would the Messenger invest so much into a plan that can be derailed so easily?” Orla asked.

“You misunderstand me. Summoning him will not be an easy task, nor is he likely to listen to what we have to say. We—and by that, I mean the Astraelis and the Otherlanders—grow old, ancient even, but the Third is on another scale entirely. Make no mistake, the First, Second, and Third may not refer to themselves as gods, but there is no other word in our vocabulary that can capture the scope of their age and power. Trying to convince the Third to do anything we ask will be like trying to stop a storm by screaming at it.”

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