Nina, in a simple cotton dress, clutched her skirts with one hand, and with the other clung to Josef’s arm.
Kaleb pounced on a plate of hors d’oeuvres, startling the server, and ate in furious silence.
Alessa cleared her throat. “I apologize for all the secrecy, but we didn’t want to unsettle anyone.” Anyone else. They were clearly unsettled. “The Consiglio has granted me permission to try a new strategy. I’d like to get a deeper understanding of your gifts and your strengths, before we begin training—”
She stepped aside as a line of servers approached with trays of chilled lemonade and limoncello.
Josef accepted a glass, accidentally freezing it so nothing came out when he tried to take a sip.
“Excuse me,” said Saida. “How can we teach you about our gifts when you can’t touch us?”
“Ah. Well, we may have to bend a few rules.”
Saida and Kamaria exchanged looks.
Nina’s glass bulged above and below her fingers. “Sorry. Sometimes I slip up when I’m nervous.” She loosened her grasp, and the solid crystal goblet regained its shape.
“Wait.” Kaleb sounded slightly breathless. “Are you saying you’re going to use our gifts before choosing a Fonte?”
“I. Um.”
“Let’s not worry about that today.” Renata came to the rescue, descending the stairs. “We’ll give you time to get acquainted first, then Fonte Tomohiro Miyamoto will be—” Renata stopped, brow furrowed. A percussion of heavy boots echoed through the tunnel.
A platoon of soldiers filed into the courtyard, led by Captain Papatonis, whose face was white as bone. “Finestra, the Watch is here to see you.”
Chills prickled up Alessa’s neck.
Soldiers carried in a stretcher with a piece of stained fabric concealing something large. As they set their burden before her, something flopped out from beneath the tarp.
A claw, twisted and underdeveloped.
It twitched.
A nearby soldier raised her bayonet and stabbed the fabric. The twitching stopped, and a trickle of midnight blue snaked out.
Captain Papatonis cleared his throat. “The esteemed Fifth Platoon is here to present the First Warning.”
Josef’s glass slipped from his hand, shattering in a spray of golden shards.
For better or worse, Alessa finally knew how long she had left.
One month.
One month to choose her Fonte.
One month until they faced a swarm of those … things.
One month, and it would all be over.
Seventeen
La morte e la sorte stanno dietro la porta.
Death and fate are behind the door.
DAYS BEFORE DIVORANDO: 28
At Renata’s subtle cough, Alessa dragged her gaze away from the creature and forced her lips to move.
“Thank you for your service and your vigilance.”
Renata was right, practice did make perfect. The ceremonial response had slipped out so smoothly she might have been receiving a bouquet of flowers rather than the mangled corpse of a massive, demonic insect.
The soldiers saluted, armor clanking in the stunned silence of the courtyard, and banged their staffs on the ground, making everyone else flinch.
Visibly steeling himself, Captain Papatonis grabbed the corner of the tarp and yanked it off, exposing a smooth, beetle-black exoskeleton and bulging, liquid red eyes. So intact, so perfect in its horribleness, the scarabeo could have been sleeping.
“I’ll have it put in storage once you’ve had a chance to look it over,” he said, before marching away at a clip, mumbling about making preparations.
The soldiers, stone-faced beneath their helmets, bowed and left, abandoning the dead scarabeo in the middle of what had been a cocktail hour moments before.
Alessa took a slug of limoncello.
Was she expected to move it herself? To hang it above her bed like a baby’s mobile, perhaps? Something to stare at during the long nights while she lay awake, frozen with dread?
“Someone will remove it later,” came Renata’s low voice. “Time to lead.”
“Ugly, aren’t they?” Tomo broke the stillness.
The Fontes wore matching expressions of nauseated horror as Tomo and Renata casually examined the hell-sent creature lying before them in a growing puddle of its own ichor.
“Small, though.” Renata walked around the creature, eying it from all sides.
“The First always are.”
“Still. Could be a sign of a weak year.”
They were restating what Alessa already knew, making idle talk while she worked up the courage to approach a monster larger than a fully grown person. The creature’s mandibles curled instead of stabbing out from its jaw, but they were still wide and sharp enough to snap a person in half.