Page 5 of No Greater Sorrow

Aleja forced her gaze away from the place where Garm’s limp body had fallen. She carried her backpack, filled with a flask of water and the small ring box that refused to open for her, along with the sickle on her belt loop. It all felt heavier than usual.

“You can do this,” Nicolas said, looking between the two of them. “The first Trial usually tests your mind, but the Second designs them differently for everyone. Choose your weapon with care.”

Aleja noticed the way his jaw flexed, the twitch of his fingers. She was beginning to think that only she could understand the subtle language of Nicolas’s body. Remembering the tattoo seeping into his veins, she resisted the urge to fall into his arms one last time.

By the Second, you’re being dramatic. Get through these Trials and then you can either fuck him or tell him to fuck off, said her little voice.

“Let’s get this over with,” Violet said. After all, she’d been the one to stand firm in the Second’s chamber, while Aleja’s legs had nearly given out beneath her.

“I’m going to the border to assist Taddeas. I’ll be back as soon as your Trial is complete,” Nicolas said.

All Aleja could bring herself to say in return was, “See you soon, Nic.”

She and Violet moved into the cave without speaking. Aleja’s pulse filled the gaps that the dripping water missed, and it felt like they were surrounded by a drumbeat so fast it had melted into one continuous drone.

“Are you scared?” Violet asked as they passed the corridor of eroded statues and ducked under a swathe of moss hanging in the last place the sunlight reached.

“Fucking terrified. How about you?”

“I didn’t drink water all day because I figured I would pee the moment the Second started talking.”

“That was the smart choice. The palace led me back to the breakfast table. It was empty, so I stress-ate like twelve pancakes.”

Violet reached for Aleja’s wrist. “I don’t think I ever thanked you for looking for me. For saving me. This whole situation is fucked up, but I’m glad we’re in it together.”

“Thank me by surviving the Trials.”

“Oh, stop. Everyone else around here might think of you as the Lady of Wrath, but I’m the one who had to make every doctor’s appointment for you for a whole year. Do you have any idea how weird it was to explain to your optometrist that I wasn’t actually your mom?”

“Sure, rub it in. I’ll remember that the next time you’re kidnapped by an angel cult,” Aleja said with a smile she hoped Violet could see in the cave’s deep blue shadows.

“My point is, whatever happens, I love you, Al. I’m glad to be here with you and your weird Otherlander boyfriend. Come on. Let’s not keep the Second waiting.”

The Second’s chamber was lit by the dim reddish glow from the pool beneath which he slept. A sound like the wind beating against a closed window echoed around the chamber. Aleja wanted to pull her jacket more tightly around her shoulders, but she remembered Garm’s grim warning as they’d approached yesterday.The Second hates weakness.

A bundle of linen sat atop a small pillar. Violet glanced at her from the corner of her eye, and Aleja shrugged, unsure if they were supposed to address the Second. But before she could announce their presence, a deep voice rumbled through her.

I HAVE SOMETHING FOR YOU, LADY OF WRATH. TAKE IT.

Nicolas had warned her specifically against this,but the Second must have sensed her hesitation because he continued,YOU LEFT IT HERE YOURSELF, LONG AGO.

Aleja took a few steps toward the pillar and lifted the linen. Beneath it, a red snake was the only bit of color on otherwise dark metal. She’d seen this armor before while scrying with the Unholy Relics. This breastplate and gloves—or ones exactly like it—had adorned the High General of the Knowing One’s armies before she’d come to this cave and begged the Second to let her take her husband’s punishment in his place.

The breastplate was undented and almost weightless, which was certainly the result of Otherlander forging, but the gloves were in decidedly worse shape. The pinkie finger of the left hand looked like it’d been burned off. Surely, Our Lady of Fire would have worn leathers that could withstand the heat of her magic.

“Here. This looks like it will fit you. I already have my fire. It puts me at an advantage,” she told Violet, holding the chest plate toward her.

“I can’t?—”

“Wear it for me. I had to do a lot of terrible things to find you. It will all have been for nothing if you don’t survive this.”

You’re starting to talk like an Otherlander, said Aleja’s inner voice.

Violet sighed but accepted the chest plate, examining the leather bands attached to the sides before pulling it over her head and turning so Aleja could buckle the clasps.

“Not sure if I’m doing this right,” she muttered, pulling at the straps to check if they were secure. Her knuckles brushed the ridges of Violet’s ribs, which slid beneath her skin as if they were detached from the rest of her skeleton. Aleja stopped herself from wincing. How long had Violet hidden her illness without anyone noticing?

The gloves smelled of burned flesh, but Aleja pulled them on as well. With leather covering most of her hands, her left pinkie finger seemed to float by itself in the darkness.

---