Page 74 of The City of Stardust

That voice. Soft and unassuming, a sheathed dagger. Ice trickles down Violet’s spine and she turns to Aleksander. He stops pacing, standing to attention almost as though he’s a soldier. And maybe he is, in someone else’s war.

After everything tonight, she can’t even pretend that he looks like a stranger. This is the truth of him. It’s just taken her this long to realise it.

“You lied to me,” she says numbly.

“I never lied,” he says. “I’m not a scholar—I’m not Penelope’s assistant—”

“But you’re working for her.”

Aleksander’s eyes flick to Penelope. “Yes.”

Devastation. A sword through her chest.

Violet opens her mouth to ask himwhy, but then she realises she doesn’t want to know. There’s no reason he could give her, no justification that would make this excusable. A distant part of herself watches this with detached irony. There goes Violet Everly, the woman with all the curiosity in the world, except for the answer to this one question.

Aleksander folds his arms. “I did what I had to do. But Yury was never supposed to be there. I don’t understand…”

“You sent that man… to do what? To stop me from finding Erriel?” She blanches. “To kill me?”

“Christ, Violet, no! No one was supposed to gethurt.”

“You have no idea what you’ve taken from me,” she says.

Her hands are shaking, so she clenches the back of a pew. She won’t be weak in front of him. She won’t give him the satisfaction of her anger.

But it’s Aleksander who starts to shout. “Well, you took everything from me! Things you might not have known you would take, but still—” He breaks off. “Once you understand—”

“Once Iunderstand? If you knew what you’ve just done—”

Penelope cuts her off. “Aleksander, wait outside.”

Violet expects Aleksander to protest—to say he would rather wait in the church, to say he would like to stay, even if it’s to watch Violet suffer—something,anything—but he only nods and turns away. He doesn’t look back at them.

“Aleksander,” she shouts.

The church door swings shut.

Violet turns back to look at Penelope. This woman who has tried to destroy her life, who has haunted her footsteps across the globe.

“I suppose you consider yourself very clever,” Penelope says. “In many ways, you’ve exceeded my expectations. Johannes Braun, Tamriel…” She taps one finger on the altar. “Those names didn’t come out of nowhere. Your research was thorough.”

“Worthy of a scholar?” Violet asks bitterly.

Behind her fear, something liquid and furious rises to the top. She won’t let Penelope best her. She won’t walk into the dark, another Everly to face a brutal death at her hands.

“You will never find what you’re looking for,” Violet spits. “Erriel said it doesn’t exist.”

“The Hands of Illios are no more, and were never of importance to begin with. Erriel has spent two thousand years in a cave as a glorified statue, presiding over a world of no significance,” Penelope says. “She no longer recalled who she was. What she was capable of.”

“And you do?”

The church is so very quiet.

“I know who you are,” Violet says. “Astriade.”

Penelope stiffens. “You have no right to call me by that name.”

“But itisyour name,” Violet says. She tilts her head to one side. “Does Aleksander know who he works for, I wonder?”

---