Page 64 of No Greater Sorrow

The Third’s gaze snapped to her. “The Astraelis can do no such thing.”

“It’s true. Their scholars have found a way,” said Nicolas. “We weretryingto warn you. We were desperate. Now, you’ve been warned. Leave, Third. You can return to punish me at another time.”

The Third appeared to consider this. He brushed away the line of blood that streamed from beneath his blindfold, only for it to be quickly replaced by another. Aleja wondered if these were his tears, some eternal sorrow for the dead, or if there were two gaping wounds where his eyes had been.

This is taking too long, she thought. The sounds of the battle were fading and it had been several minutes since the last Throne raced by overhead. Aleja pushed away the worst of her thoughts—that the Astraelis had easily overtaken the Otherlander armies, that Violet and the Dark Saints were dead, and Val had been imprisoned by his mother. And to make matters worse, she and Nicolas had managed to lure the Third directly into the Astraelis’s hands.

“This petty conflict between the Astraelis and the Otherlanders means nothing to me, Nicolas,” the Third finally said. “Until the last living creature takes its final breath, I will remain. Then, I too, will join them.”

“But if they trap you—” Aleja began.

“They will not have the opportunity,” the Third, giving her a soft smile. The candidness of it shook her. It was the kind of expression that was both tender and long-suffering, like one might give an old friend during a disagreement.

“But what if theydo?” she pushed on. “What will happen to the people you are supposed to help? You loved a mortal woman once, didn’t you? What if there hadn’t been someone to guide her?—”

Aleja stopped talking when she noticed Third’s smile had turned into a frown.

“Our Lady of Wrath. You’ve cheated death yourself, I see. May I look at that sickle?” the Third said, voice dropping an octave.

Aleja locked eyes with Nicolas, and when he nodded, she unhooked the weapon from her belt. The Third was careful not to touch her skin as he reached for it, but Aleja felt another wave of cold all the same. The Third shed cold as Nicolas did heat, but it wasn’t unpleasant—more like the first day of autumn after a long and blistering summer.

Ignoring the frown Nicolas sent in her direction, she said, “You can have it back if you promise to leave.”

“How did you know it belonged to me?”

“Itdidn’tbelong to you. I wouldn’t have been able to wield it otherwise It belonged… it belonged to her, didn’t it? The human woman you loved. You had it made for her, so she could protect herself.”

She felt a small tug on the marriage bond—Nicolas asking without words if she had any idea what she was doing. Aleja didn’t answer because she had no fucking clue. Everything she’d told the Third was a guess, pieced together from the snippets she’d learned about him.

“I thought it lost to the human realm,” the Third said.

“It was in the collection of an occultist named James Thomson. At least, that’s what he called himself,” she told him.

“Yes, I remember him. He sent many witches to my realm. Was the fire that engulfed him yours?”

“Yes,” Aleja said, not knowing if she was making a terrible mistake. She had no idea how the Third felt about murderers—even those who did so in self-defense.

“Then, the sickle is yours.”

“I don’t want it,” she said. “It never felt like it belonged to me.”

The Third slipped the sickle into his robes and his hand reemerged empty. “Very well. In exchange, I can grant you a favor.”

Aleja felt a momentary swell of relief that the Third might actually listen to them, but her hopes were dashed when he continued by saying, “You carry a small box. Do you know what it contains?”

“No,” Aleja said, the word no more than a breathy exhale.

“The bones of a Dark Saint. Most never get to see their own skeleton, but you’re a special case.”

The answer hit her all at once. The glove belonging to her past self with its missing pinkie finger. “She created an Unholy Relic of herself. There might be memories…”

Aleja was desperate to ask another question, but the forest grew silent, except for the cawing of corpse-hungry ravens.

“Come. There is someone I must attend to,” the Third said, as if the knowledge he’d granted her was more than enough to make them even and he had nothing more to say on the subject.

“No. You have to go,” Aleja said, but the Third breezed away on bare feet like he hadn’t heard her.

Moving through the forest was easier with the Third ahead of them to clear a path. Nicolas did not let go of Aleja’s hand; perhaps he was still expecting the Third to punish him for saving Louisa. His usually warm complexion was washed out, as if all his color was migrating to the black ink on his chest. For a moment, Aleja was filled with a dreadful thought. Perhaps the Third hadn’t left because he was here forNicolas.

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