Page 63 of No Greater Sorrow

The Knowing One touched his chin. Leaves crackled beneath his boots as he shifted his weight. “We can’t leave our armies alone any longer, not if the Astraelis are on the move. If the Third chooses to look for us, he’ll find us there.”

This time, Aleja was prepared for the feeling of taking too wide a step and losing balance. Garm pressed against her side to steady her as she blinked her eyes open, expecting to be back in the army camp.

Instead, they were in a forest.

A Throne tore through the clouds overhead.

Aleja was on the ground before registering that the Throne’s lower belly had been torn open. The tangled branches overhead saved them from a torrent of blood. One of the Avisai came barreling after it. When it struck the injured Throne, both tumbled and disappeared into the trees. Aleja didn’t see where they landed, but the impact sent leaves raining down.

“This can’t be—How are they already here?” Nicolas snarled.

The scent of charred flesh and smoldering wood filled the air. “Garm,” Aleja panted, pushing herself to her feet. “You’re faster. Go help the others. We’ll be right behind you.”

Garm bounded toward the source of the shouting.

Nicolas drew his sword, its black flames roaring to life. Making their way toward the sound of clashing troops wouldn’t be easy. The tree trunks were so thick that the gaps between them would force her and Nicolas to squeeze through single file. That was not to mention the vines. Every branch was choked with them, dropping low and limiting her view to no more than a few feet in every direction. There would be no using Umbramares here.

Nicolas was right. Bonnie could be terrifying when she wanted to be. And while this forest would be fantastic for slowing the Astraelis’ ground approach, Aleja and Nicolas were trapped in it too.

“Which way?” she gasped.

“Follow the sound,” he told her. He tightened his grip on the sword hilt, his knuckles straining against his skin. The blade crackled as he swept it through a layer of vines. As they burned, they filled the air with a plume of smoke that made Aleja immediately nauseous. She doubled over, coughing so hard that she almost didn’t notice Nicolas had also reacted violently.

He recovered quickly, pulling her away from the dissipating smoke. His voice was still raw, as if his throat was stripped of tissue. “Dammit, Bonnie! No fire unless we have no other choice.”

Another Throne ripped across the sky, tearing a chunk from the canopy and allowing moonlight into the labyrinth of trees. Aleja unhooked her sickle from her belt, the blade glinting in the light. As they moved toward the sound of fighting, she used it to hack away the thick vines, but another layer always waited. The process was so slow that all Aleja could picture were her friends’ faces, slack and covered with blood. When she spotted a figure moving among the trees, her hands nearly erupted with fire on instinct, but Nicolas tightened his shadows around them, hiding their bodies between the trees.

She crouched, at first thinking a Throne had been foolish enough to try to fight in a dense forest. But no. It was an enormous stag. A huge set of antlers erupted from the animal’s head—so wild and dynamic that they appeared to be expanding, as if Aleja was watching the explosion of their growth in real time.

Nicolas too was frozen in place, watching the black stag glide through the dangling vines. Something sweet, carrying a hint of cinnamon, replaced the scent of trees and moldy leaves.

“Come out, Knowing One. Your wife too. I’d hoped we’d had this talk for the last time,” said a soft voice.

“The Third,” Nicolas whispered. “We need to make this quick.”

As the stag grew closer, she saw that its massive antlers were dotted with eyes blinking at uneven intervals. Like the statue she’d seen in the second Trial, a blindfold was pulled tightly over the stag’s face. A dark line of blood dripped from beneath the ribbon, barely visible against glossy black fur.

An odd peace came over her. A cold peace, as if her inner voice had returned and whispered,It’s okay, darling. You can stop hurting now.

Nicolas squeezed her wrist.

The Third stopped when he was close enough for Aleja to smell his breath—cinnamon again, and the drunken heaviness of overripened figs. She blinked and the stag was gone; in his place stood a slight man wearing a heavy cowl that hung low over his face. The ribbon remained over his eyes, as did the blood—a single streak following the curve of his cheek. Only his lower face and hands were visible, but a myriad of embroidered red eyes blinked out from the fabric.

If the Knowing One was a force of nature, then the Third was something beyond that. He was the rules nature followed, the immutable law that all things die eventually. Yet nothing about his presence made her want to shrink back, even when he pointed at Nicolas and said, “I see the poison in your heart, Knowing One. You will be joining me soon.”

“That’s between myself and the Second,” Nicolas said. “The Astraelis are attempting to capture you. You must resist whatever methods they use to lure you to them.”

“I was coming for the woman. You snatched her away,” the Third replied, as if Nicolas had said nothing at all. His voice was low, like the thrum of the ocean.

“It was intentional. I needed to impart a message, and now I have. Please.Go.”

“You’ve caused enough problems for me, Nicolas. No doubt the Second feels the same. Would he complain if I took you back with me now?”

It was only Nicolas’s hand on Aleja’s wrist, squeezing gently against her pulse point, that kept her from defending him.

“The girl should have come with me. It was time for her to receive my gifts and find safety among those who have walked the path before her. No more warnings, Nicolas. You are the hand of the Second, remember that. It is your duty to maintain the order of things.”

“Tell that to the Astraelis. They plan to use you to kill the Second,” Aleja said.

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