Mallow had never been good at silence, but the quiet between him and Sena as they slipped into the half-collapsed corridor behind the old refectory felt like being draped in a blanket someone had forgotten to shake the dust out of. He leaned against the wall while his breath rearranged itself. The collapse had stiffened everything from ribs to shins; his legs still protested each step, and the scales along his side prickled faintly.

  A saint, he thought wryly. Of all the people in Ivath, the wyrm had picked him. No wonder Sena had looked at him the way she did, halfway between relief and suspicion.

  Sena paced in front of him with all the contained fury of a storm strapped to a single woman’s back. It had been a long time since they’d both resided at Morgan Balthir’s keep, but he still remembered her tells. She passed a hand through her hair when she didn’t know what to do next. She flicked her tail when she did know, but hated the answer. Right now her tail was lashing so sharply it could’ve cut a man. “Well?” she said.

  “What? No ‘Mallow, how are your cracked ribs?’ No ‘can I get you anything before we discuss destiny and the end of the world?’”

  Sena’s eyes softened a little. Sena’s concern was a strange thing; she never gave it lightly. Best not to notice it too much, or he’d start mistaking it for fondness.

  She frowned. “Your ribs are cracked?”

  “How should I know? I’m not a doctor.”

  She seemed more than happy to ignore him. “We have, what, five days?” she muttered.

  “Six, if they’re slow riders,” Mallow said.

  She glared at him. “They won’t be slow.”

  He nodded. “And Rhalir has sent for Catherine and her men. Not sure what their timeframe is on arrival, I take it.”

  Sena shook her head. “Not soon enough, even if I was sure it was wise to summon them. No, when the Brighthand get here, they’ll flood over us like bloodwyrms. We’ll lose the city faster than we took it.”

  “Lovely.”He cleared his throat. “So. Not to pile on, but I think the Underserpent left me… instructions.”

  “And what instructions were those?”

  “To leave Ivath. To go find something.”

  “But you’ll miss all the fun.” She rolled her eyes. “So the wyrm brought you back from the dead to assign you a scavenger hunt?”

  He pushed off the wall, wincing as his ribs pulled. “It said I’m supposed to carry a –” He hesitated. The word root felt too large for his mouth. “Something that needs a new place to live.”

  Her tail flicked. “Thank you for that exhaustive explanation, Mallow. With how little time we have left I was worried you were going to be evasive and difficult.”

  “It’s an egg. It wants me to find an egg.”

  Her ears dropped back. “An egg? A wyrm egg?”

  “Well, I don’t think it meant a chicken egg, unless wyrms have a fondness for quiche.”

  Sena studied him. She understood now, everything he was dancing around saying. She had a way of seeing directly through moods, past jokes and posture, to whatever he didn’t want touched. Lain had done that too, but where Lain had been gentle, Sena was skillful, with a healer’s dissection of truth. When she’d finished her assessment, she cut right to the heart.

  “There are precious few places to find an egg like that.”

  “I’ve got a pretty good lead already.”

  He let the implication hang between them. He trusted Sena, but he’d made a promise to the Kelthi of Vaelun not to compromise their hidden home in the mountains. The fewer people who knew the specifics, the better.

  “We can’t let anyone know about this,” she said. She’d always been smart.

  “I know.”

  “I mean anyone. If the Dagorlind hear you’re walking around with their equivalent of a god –”

  “Yes,” Mallow said. “I’m aware.”

  She gave him a look that was very Kelthi and very fond, despite her annoyance. “Don’t get clever with me. And it’s you that’s meant to go, I take it.”

  “Well,” he sighed. “I've got the new scales, and the ancient creature speaking through my lungs, and a chorus in my head every time I sleep going on about carrying new life. But what do I know? I’m not religious. I could just be pregnant. Maybe we should ask a midwife? Or a Sister –”

  Something clattered behind Sena and Mallow glanced up. Sena spun on her claws, startled. Hellen fumbled out from behind a curtain near the entrance, trying to grab hold of the incense burner she must’ve kicked by accident, but it was too late.

  For a moment none of them moved.

  “Right on queue,” Mallow muttered.

  Hellen straightened. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice taking on the air of forced haughtiness. “I didn’t mean to intrude.”

  “Hellen,” Sena said carefully. “How long have you been listening?”

  Hellen lifted her chin. “Enough to know what you’re planning.”

  Sena swore under her breath.

  “Hellen,” Mallow said, as gently as he could manage under his fury, “we need you not to repeat anything you’ve heard.”

  “I gathered that,” she said. “And under any other circumstances, I would keep your confidence.” Her voice wavered. “But the Dagorlind remnants are frightened. Leaderless. They’ll cling to anything that looks like order. If they learn you kept something this large from them –”

  “It’s not large,” Sena lied. “It’s just –”

  “Mallow,” Hellen said, eyes on him, “your scales are glowing.”

  He folded his arms over them. “I’m aware.”

  Her breath shook. “And you’re planning to leave the city.”

  Sena stepped between them, protective and dangerous. “Hellen, please. Think before you speak.”

  “I am thinking,” Hellen said, and for the first time her voice was hard and certain. “I want to do the right thing. I don’t want Ivath seized or bled again because a secret no one understood until it was too late.”

  “You think telling the Dagorlind will help?” Sena hissed.

  “No,” Hellen whispered. “I think it will destroy everything.”

  She looked between them again, Sena furious, Mallow weary. She carried on. “If you want me to stay silent… Tanel has to go with him.”

  Sena froze. “Absolutely not.”

  Mallow actually laughed, a single, disbelieving exhale. “Why would you even suggest –”

  “Tanel is the only Dagorlind I trust,” Hellen said. “He knows why everything collapsed. He’s been helping. He answers to the Order, but I think that bond is failing. If he leaves with you, I can honestly tell the others I didn’t hide anything from them.”

  “So your price for not telling the Dagorlind is telling the Dagorlind.” Mallow snapped. “You won’t be hiding anything only because you’re sending a spy with me.”

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Hellen winced. “I’m not trying to spy on you. I’m trying not to betray my people.”

  “Tanel can’t go where I’m going. I’ve got my own betrayals to worry about.”

  Sena paced a tight circle, hands in her hair, tail lashing. “Hellen, this is insane. Tanel’s presence puts everything at risk.”

  “Everything is already at risk! You people massacred the city!” Hellen burst out, then immediately flinched at hearing herself say it. “I don’t mean – I know the Kelthi have been – Sena, I didn’t mean –”

  “I know what you meant.” Her voice hardened. “But consider carefully, Sister Hellen, before you start tallying lives lost in the name of the Underserpent. You people have had quite a head start.”

  “I – I’m sorry,” Hellen said quietly.

  “It’s fine,” Mallow muttered, though it wasn’t. He could almost taste Sena’s anger on the air. “Let’s all just forget we’re at war and go back to being mad about Tanel.”

  Sena shot him a look – exasperated, hurt, but he could see the corner of her mouth tugging upward, and finally she glanced aside, saying nothing.

  Hellen swallowed. “I just… think it would be wise. To say you were both on pilgrimage. That each of you – Ashborn and Dagorlind – had agreed to seek out the wisdom of the serpents on the pilgrimage of the Cloudspine. It will give you legitimacy.”

  Sena stared at her. “You’re really going to force this?”

  Hellen’s hands trembled, but she nodded. “If I don’t, I become a traitor to the Order. And I can’t –” her voice cracked. “I can’t carry that on top of everything else.”

  Mallow closed his eyes. He didn’t want Tanel anywhere near him. Not after what had happened with Lain. Not after the things Lain had told him in confidence. Not after the way Tanel had looked at him when he was half-dead under the Spire, like a man seeing a ghost carrying his sins.

  But the wyrm’s directive pressed hard against his back. He had to go. And if Hellen told the Dagorlind, the mission would end before it began.

  Sena met Mallow’s eyes. “You’re not seriously considering this.”

  He didn’t answer.

  Her tail snapped once like a struck whip.

  Hellen whispered, “I’ll keep your secret. But Tanel goes.”

  Mallow exhaled. “Fine.”

  Sena swore, loudly, poetically, in Kelthi. Mallow laughed aloud. “Where did you get a mouth like that?”

  Sena turned her head, surprised and blinking for all of a moment before she grinned. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Then she sighed. “Fine.”

  They went to a makeshift camp they’d built, where dusk was settling over a cold cookfire. Sena and Hellen built the fire up and Mallow did nothing, at Sena’s insistence. They ate a meal of stewed potatoes and bread, and when Rhalir returned, they explained quietly the circumstances while he ate, and sent him back again to find Tanel.

  The tension between Hellen and Sena was palpable. Mallow had caught glimpses of their affection for each other in the short time he’d been reborn; he wondered if that would return, if it would survive what Hellen had said. A younger version of him might have written their friendship off permanently after such a rupture; but he wasn’t that man anymore. He’d been forgiven for worse, and had forgiven for worse himself.

  When Rhalir returned, it was almost funny; Rhalir looked like someone reporting a weather change, calm and braced, while Tanel looked like someone hearing the verdict of a trial he hadn’t known he was standing in.

  Sena stood with her arms crossed tight. Hellen lingered at her shoulder, pale but resolute. The moment Tanel saw Mallow, he seemed to understand that whatever news was coming wouldn’t be simple.

  Sena cleared her throat. “Tanel. We need you to travel.”

  Tanel blinked. “Travel? Now?”

  Sena made a sharp, derisive sound. “Don’t act surprised.”

  “I’m not acting – Hellen, what –”

  “It’s me,” Mallow said. “I’m leaving Ivath. And our little Sister here –” he nodded to Hellen – “has decided you’re to accompany me.”

  “Me? You? Leaving?”

  “Those are the salient details, yes. Your education didn’t end at sedatives, I see.”

  Tanel wisely refrained from taking the bait. He studied Mallow. “To where?”

  Mallow shrugged, because the truth was too absurd to say it plainly. “North, past the river.”

  Rhalir shot Mallow a look that said don’t be flippant, but Mallow couldn’t help it. His entire life had recently become a farce, and leaning into the absurdity was the only thing keeping him upright.

  Tanel’s brow furrowed. He looked at Hellen. “What does this have to do with us? Why would my presence matter?”

  “Because you’re the one who came up with it,” Sena said. Tanel made a face like a tricked dog.

  Hellen flushed. “There are parts of what is to come that must remain secret. For now. If Mallow leaves alone, or if I follow him, there will be questions. Questions a Brother or Sister would be forced to answer or else betray their oaths.”

  Tanel nodded ruefully, pursing his lips as it dawned on him. “So you need an Elder you can use.”

  “An Elder I can trust,” she said. “If you propose Mallow’s journey, and accompany him, then truthfully nothing was hidden from the Order. When the time for the whole truth comes, our oaths are intact and we have prevented the Elders from acting against their own interests.”

  Tanel looked stricken. “Hellen… I never asked you to put yourself between –”

  “You didn’t,” she said, voice soft but steady. “I did. And now we need a solution.”

  “But why?” Tanel asked. “What are we meant to be doing on this journey?”

  “It’s a pilgrimage,” Mallow said brightly. “You and me. An Elder Glinnel and an Ashborn Captain, paying penance and asking for blessings.”

  “And you think the Order will balk at you doing this alone, so much so that you need me to cover for Hellen?”

  Mallow snorted. “Are you serious? You were down in that pit with me, and I’m sure you went and told them everything you saw. As far as predicted Dagorlind responses go, my new look has me wavering somewhere between ‘burn it alive’ and ‘chain it to the cistern’.”

  “Mallow,” Rhalir warned.

  “No, let him,” Sena muttered. “He’s being honest.”

  Tanel stared at him with an exhausted grief. “No. There’s more. I was down there. The Underserpent spoke to you.”

  Mallow didn’t deny it. Tanel stepped forward until he stood directly in front of Mallow, searching his face for something – certainty, maybe, or some sign of cruelty.

  Mallow stared back. Let him look. Let him see whatever he wanted. The wyrm’s light was not something Mallow could hide, even if he wanted to.

  Finally, Tanel spoke. “If you truly need to go… then I will join you.”

  Sena exploded, surprising all of them. “Absolutely not.”

  Tanel flinched. “Sena –”

  Hellen gasped. “But you’ve already agreed –”

  “I’ve changed my mind!” She swung her ire back on Tanel. “You think I don’t remember how you made Lain feel? You think I’ve forgotten what you said to her during the parley?”

  Tanel closed his eyes. “I know what I did. I carry it every day. But this isn’t about –”

  “Yes, it is.” Sena’s voice shook, which was worse than shouting. “If Mallow is going into danger, the last thing he needs is someone whose instincts run straight to obedience and fear.”

  “That isn’t fair,” Hellen said quietly.

  “It’s true,” Sena shot back.

  Mallow lifted a hand. “Enough.”

  They all went still.

  Mallow rarely raised his voice; he didn’t need to. Years of guarding Morgan taught him that quiet could command a room just as well as noise.

  He looked directly at Tanel in the fading light, the fire casting orange across his face. “Do you want to go, or do you just feel like you should?”

  Tanel swallowed hard. “Both.”

  “Not good enough.”

  Tanel’s gaze flickered downward, then up again. “I can protect you.”

  “Don’t need protection.”

  Sena made an incredulous noise. Mallow ignored her.

  “I mean it differently,” Tanel explained. “I can protect the mission, whatever it is. Whatever the wyrm has set in motion… if you fail, the consequences will reach all of us. Is that right?”

  Mallow resettled against the pillar and studied Tanel the way he’d once studied strangers entering Morgan’s estate, cataloguing his posture, voice, guilt, resolve. He looked timid, pushed, a man at the edge of some vast terrible thing deciding, after all, to step forward rather than back.

  Mallow didn’t trust him, but he recognized that kind of resolve. He’d worn it himself once.

  “Fine,” Mallow said. “You come.”

  His tone was calm, but his body was shaking now. Partly it was pain, but there was also the wyrm’s directive, humming in his sternum, a constant tug northward. It made him impatient to leave.

  Tanel bowed his head. “Then I’ll prepare.”

  Hellen let out a breath of mingled relief and dread.

  Sena watched them both like she was memorizing their faces for later recrimination. Then her gaze softened when it landed on Mallow. She wasn’t angry at him, not truly. She was terrified for him. And Sena’s fear always came out as fire.

  “Mallow,” she said quietly. “If something happens –”

  “I’ll handle it,” he said. “I’m not a child.”

  “No,” she agreed. “You’re worse. You’re an optimist.”

  Rhalir barked a laugh. Hellen bit down on a smaller one. Even Tanel grinned before he caught himself.

  Mallow groaned. “Can we not do this in front of the clergy?”

  “I’m not clergy,” Hellen muttered.

  “Tanel is,” Mallow said.

  Tanel sighed. “Not anymore. When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow morning,” Mallow said. “Before light.”

  His leg ached, his ribs burning. But he felt the path ahead; he’d walked it before, in worse weather. The worst that could happen was death. And that wasn’t so bad, all things considered; he’d already done it once.