‘“Whoresons!” cried Frère Charles, and “Take them to the Bridge!” roared Frère Alonso, and the mob surged forward. I fought against them, crying out as rough hands seized Baptiste and Aaron, blows falling like rain as Khalid bellowed for order. I punched and flailed, all descending into chaos when a pistol shot rang out over the tumult.
‘BOOM.
‘Stillness fell. Turning, I saw Greyhand, his smoking wheellock raised in the air. His good eye was bloodshot and pouched in shadow. But his hand was steady.
‘“Still yourselves, Brothers.”
‘“But they’re sinners, Frère!” Lil Phil spat. “Bastard oathbreakers!”
‘“They’ve admitted guilt, Brother,” Frère Alonso said. “This sin is theirs to own!”
‘“It is,” Greyhand nodded. “But Aaron de Coste is still my apprentice ’til he swears the silver rite before God and San Michon. I’ll not see him judged by the madness of the mob.”
‘“Greyhand speaks truth, Brothers!” Khalid bellowed. “That this sin warrants sanction is not in doubt! But no measure shall be meted without prayer and contemplation! Lock them both beneath the Cathedral!” The abbot gazed around the throng, eyes flashing. “We march tomorrow! Look to your own reflections, and your own souls! For soon all of us may stand bare and bloodied before God’s judgement!”
‘Rough hands dragged Aaron and Baptiste to the Cathedral, led by Seraph Talon. The rest of the mob lingered like carrion eaters above a battlefield, unsatisfied, but unwilling to break faith with Khalid. And with muttered curses, they began drifting back to Barracks.
‘I remained there in the chill. The memory of Astrid’s lips lingering with the blood on my tongue. But Greyhand lingered also, Archer perched upon his good shoulder. The falcon peered at me with golden eyes, gave a rasping screech. I looked at the place my master’s swordarm had been. The gulf between us. The words unspoken.
‘“Master …”
‘“Did you know?” he asked, his voice like old boots on gravel.
‘I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted to trust him as once I had. He’d been a cruel bastard with me, no doubt. But unlike my stepfather, Greyhand’s cruelty served a purpose. There’s a difference between being ground underheel and ground on a whetstone. I was harder and better than I’d ever been because of him, and I wanted to beg forgiveness for my disobedience in Coste. Despite saving that girl’s life, I wanted to tell him I wished I could have taken it all back. To ask if he blamed me as I blamed myself.
‘“What will become of them?” I asked instead.
‘Greyhand narrowed his good eye, empty sleeve whipping in the wind.
‘“I will plead for clemency. But the Order’s rules are clear. They will suffer the fate of all oathbreakers upon Khalid’s return. Aaron will be taken to the Bridge, bound to the wheel, and flayed with silvered thorns until nothing remains of the aegis that marked him as part of this Brotherhood. And then, they will both be cast out of San Michon.”
‘“But that’s madness! Baptiste is the finest smith in the monastery! And Aaron was set to be inducted among the brethren on the morrow!”
‘“Baptiste broke his vows,” Greyhand spat. “And speak not with a weasel’s tongue about man and woman, he knew full well it was wrong. And Aaron knew also. It’s a fool who plays at the precipice. But only the prince of fools blames another when he falls.”
‘The wind sang a heartbroken hymn. A part of me couldn’t believe Aaron and Baptiste had been reckless enough to meet again so soon after I’d discovered them. But I’d risked the same myself with Astrid tonight, thinking I might be going to my death tomorrow. I couldn’t fault my brother for doing the same. My chest ached at all of this. But I tried to take solace in the Faith, as I’d always done. Whatever became of Aaron and Baptiste, that was the Almighty’s will, was it not? They’d broken the law of God, hadn’t they?
‘I thought of Astrid again, the taste of our collision lingering on my lips. I felt like I’d had cold water dashed over my head, the want I’d been drenched with now sobered by the certainty of how foolish it had been. How selfish. How dangerous.
‘Chloe, the falling star, the bloodscript – all of it told me we had a greater role to play in this. Was it right to risk all that? Wasn’t it the darkest kind of wicked?
‘No sin so dangerous as the sin that is chosen.
‘No sin so glorious as the sin that is shared.
‘But still …
‘“Master … I don’t know if I can ride to Charinfel and leave Aaron behind to rot in a cell.”
‘“Good,” he growled. “Because you’re not riding anywhere, de León.”
‘I blinked, meeting Greyhand’s cold stare. “Master, I don—”
‘“You don’t get to call me Master, boy. Not any more. I told you in Coste that you’d never Hunt as my apprentice again.” He walked closer to me, a strip of dark leather about the place where his eye should have been. “You thought I’d forgotten? That perhaps the Wraith in Red had knocked the thought loose from my skull while she ripped my arm off and tore the eye out of my head?”
‘“I saved your life.”
‘“And cost me these,” he said, waving to eye and arm.
‘“Master, I’m sorry f—”
‘Greyhand’s fist collided with my stomach like a battering ram to a city’s gate. Hitting my knees, I gasped as he smashed a backhand across my face, sending me sprawling in the snow. I tried to scramble to my feet, but his boot collided with my ribs, left me curled on the freezing stone in agony.
‘“Damn your apology, boy,” he hissed, slapping the hollow socket at his shoulder. “This is the Almighty’s will, and I accept it as a faithful servant should! What I will not accept is an apprentice who seeks his own glory when he should seek God’s!”
‘“I d-don’t—”
‘“Of course you do! You spoke so tonight before the Empress herself! Even now, even here, your first concern isn’t for your Brothers who march towards war and death without you, but that you’ll be left behind! You have no patience, de León! No discipline! You do not think, save to think that you know best! Well, you will learn to think, boy! And I will ensure you have all the time in the world to do so!”
‘The frère eased back, taking a grip on his growing rage.
‘“Better to die a man than live a monster, we say. But there are many kinds of monsters in this world, boy. A man does what he must. A monster does what he wills. A man serves his God. A monster serves only himself. And I do not ride with monsters.”
‘I spat blood off my tongue, fangs bared in my rage. But Greyhand only scowled.
‘“While your Brothers are gone, choose which you will be.”
‘And with that, he turned his back, and left me bleeding in the snow.’
XII
NOW DANCE WITH ME
‘SAN MICHON WAS empty as my sister’s grave, my heart, heavy as the stone that marked it.