Page 77 of No Greater Sorrow

“Cauterize the woundnow,” Taddeas growled. It was enough to get the medic moving, though she shot the imprisoned soldier a worried glance. Aleja could not tell if it was given in sympathy or distress.

“Get this one in iron chains. We’ll let the Knowing One decide what to do with a soldier that disobeys an order to stand down,” Taddeas continued. The flurry of action had driven most of the others away, but Aleja recognized the commanding officer who stepped forward. Silmiya, who’d stood outside of Val’s tent, quietly listening to his hymns for nights on end.

Bonnie didn’t retreat either. Mud crept up the hem of her yellow dress as she stood with her hands clamped over her mouth, as still as one of the oak trees she’d grown to protect them. “I’m sorry, Tad, I didn’t mean to rile them?—”

“We’ll wait in the meeting room,” Orla said as she took Bonnie by the shoulders.

There was a loud hiss, followed by the smell of burned flesh. Val looked small beneath his chains as the healer led him away. His mask was plastered to the sweat on his face, so that for once, Aleja could see the shape of his brow. She did not expect him to speak to her as he passed, clutching his arm against his chest. The end of it was blackened, giving way abruptly to clammy paleness. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way.”

“We’ll deal with you later,” she said.

Taddeas looked ill as the two prisoners, one Astraelis and one Otherlander, were dragged away. One of his braids had come loose, partially covering the scar on his face. “Our Lady of Wrath. You did it. We should celebrate,” he said, trying to summon a smile that wouldn’t come.

The words were such a juxtaposition from the bloody mud beneath her feet and the severed hand of an Astraelis sinking into it, that Aleja could only give a grim smile as she pressed her cheek against his chest. His heartbeat was steady and strong against her ear. Aleja closed her eyes for a long moment, letting the rhythm of it calm her.

“Where’s Nic?” he asked. The joy of Aleja’s return appeared to have been brief. His eyes drifted back to the place where Val’s hand lay, still twitching slightly.

“I…” Aleja began, but she could no longer hold back the tears that filled her eyes.

This time it was her turn to be ushered away with Taddeas’s strong hands around her shoulders. The silence was heavy, as if someone was holding an iron chain over Aleja’s body that would crush her the moment they let it go.

9

THE HERETIC

“Summoning the Dark Saints is a dangerous pursuit, even at the best of times. Like the Knowing One, they can be cruel and petty to those they deem unworthy of their help. This can especially be said of the Dark Saint of Wrath, who delights in imparting revenge on behalf of her devotees.”

—Excerpt fromTen Myths of the Otherlandersby Emiel Nasir.

“Nic has to come back,right? The Second said he would revive him?” Amicia asked. She looked worse for wear, but there was a dreaminess to the way her silk dress moved around her like liquid. Aleja hadn’t had much of a chance to explore her new senses as a Dark Saint, but she could sense magic in the fabric—Amicia’s dresses were armor of their own.

“That’s what he said,” Aleja told her. At some point, she’d dropped her chin onto her folded arms, and hadn’t found the strength to lift her head again. Garm moved restlessly in her peripheral vision, pacing the small space as though trying to find a way to escape. Aleja hadn’t the strength to tell the whole story, leaving out that Garm was the one to take down Nicolas and that she had been forced into a bargain.

Bonnie made her way into the war room at some point, but stayed silent, lurking in the corner as if she could avoid Taddeas’s notice. Aleja couldn’t blame her for the outburst against Val. She too was wondering why Taddeas seemed so intent on protecting the traitor who’d sold them out to his mother.

“Then, where is he? Back in the cave?” Bonnie muttered.

“The Second sealed the way back. I couldn’t reach him—believe me, I tried.”

Orla sighed. “I’ll go look. The Second has always been strangely fond of me.”

Aleja lifted her head. She could feel the creases her sleeves had pressed into her forehead. “I’ll come.”

“Not a good idea. Help move the camp. I’ll be back with news soon.”

Before Aleja could ask what Orla could possibly have to say to the Second, she was gone from the room. The air she left behind smelled of rain and damp herbs. Aleja was too broken to do anything more than slump lower in her chair.

“Val wants to speak with the Knowing One. You should stand in for him,” Taddeas said, after a long moment during which those left in the tent regarded each other grimly, as if they were in a stand-off and whoever voiced their thoughts would be the first shot.

“You’re his High General, Tad, not me. I don’t have the experience yet,” she replied.

“I resign,” he said quietly.

Aleja and Bonnie stared at him. Even Garm made a low rumble of confusion.

“I will be there with you on the frontlines, but I refuse to send anyone else to their deaths. I was clear with Nicolas when I came to the Hiding Place, and we have Our Lady of Wrath back now. I’ll stay on as your advisor until you feel confident enough to make decisions on your own.”

“Taddeas—”

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