Over the course of her life Rose had seen many die—naturally, it came with the job of an assassin—but Mayvin's death shook her to the core.

He'd died with his head on her lap, his brow beaded with perspiration and blood, surrounded by those who admired him. The Sparrowfeathers happened to be in town, so they held a short funeral for him. Rose gave her own speech at the grave, though now, she couldn't remember a thing she'd said.

She didn't tell any of the Sparrowfeathers how he'd died, and they asked no particulars, probably because it seemed obvious from his ripped, blood-soaked clothing. And even though she knew it wasn't her fault, Rose struggled with guilt; Mayvin had been a kind of mentor figure to her, one who always lent an ear in times of trouble, who guided her to answers in a way that let her figure it out herself. But he'd always kept a respectable distance, and now she knew why.

In some strange way, she thought she'd always known he was immortal. He was always just kinda there, y'know? Never changing. If stated outright she'd have scoffed at the idea of course, but now ...

After the impromptu service, there was nothing to do but head back to the inn. The city walls cast long shadows on the emptying streets, and beyond, the setting sun stained the sky pink. A chill wind riled up dust, and Rose was ever bladder they weren't going to camp out tonight.

While Sorey and the others went to the common room, Rose opted to join Eguille and Caliya in the stables. The inn was too small to have stableboys on hand at all times, but the Sparrowfeathers preferred to do all the caretaking of their packhorses anyway.

She slid the stable door shut behind her, pinching her nose. Urgh, horses stank. "You wanted to speak with me?"

"Right." Eguille brushed Theodore, their oldest and grumpiest horse. He was liable to give you a chomp if you dared to handle him in a way he didn't want to be handled, so Rose kept a safe distance from him at all times. "Lunarre has allied himself with the Rolance nobility."

Oh, fuck. "How did you find out?"

"A few weeks ago in Lastonbel, we nearly fell into a trap set by Fabian Cortello. He'd requested a meeting to potentially set up a job for us, but when we got there a squadron of knights, along with Lunarre, were waiting for us."

"Then what?" She dreaded the answer.

"Nothing, fortunately," Caliya said. She deftly picked rocks from Horace's hooves, shaking her chestnut hair from her eyes. The lantern light gave her dark olive skin a warm glow. "We escaped before they even saw us."

Rose rubbed the back of her neck, thinking furiously. "Damn. If someone as low on the food chain as Cortello knows about us, then …"

"We're fucked," Caliya finished. "It's probably safe to say that anyone with an ounce of influence in Rolance knows who we are. Maybe not this far out, yet, but it's only a matter of time."

Rose had been so caught up in the Shepherd's affairs, she'd never given much thought to the ramifications of Lunarre's defection. Just what kind of boss was she?

"We'll have to change things up," she finally said. "Feel things out. If worse comes to worst, we might not ever be able to trade in Rolance again."

"I suppose in this regard, it could be considered fortunate that relations between Rolance and Hyland are so tense," Eguille said with a wry smile. "Rolance won't rat us out—even if they hate us, it would seem too much like a gesture of goodwill."

Rose snorted. "Let's have a meeting tomorrow. Outside of Lohgrin, away from prying eyes and ears."

"Does this mean you'll be coming back, boss?" Caliya watched Rose, her gaze hopeful.

"We'll see," she said. The Sparrowfeathers needed her, but she still had to see things with Sorey through. The fate of the world and the fate of her family—how could she choose? She knew what her heart wanted, and yet ...

In the common room Rosh informed her that Sorey had retired for bed, so up the creaky stairs she went. She was greeted by quite the scene as she entered their room: Sorey sat at the edge of his bed, leaning forward with his hands clasped together, and the seraphim stood in front of him, at attention. As soon as he saw Rose, he said, "I've just decided what I'm going to do."

She managed, "Go on?"

"It's time to confront Heldalf, once and for all." He decisively pushed his palm into his fist. "To do what must be done."

"At this point, there's no reason to falter," Lailah said delicately, though the way she wrung her hands told another story.

"I see." She couldn't very well leave him now, could she? Not when he clearly needed her the most.

Sorey suddenly focused on her face, as if it was the first time he'd actually realized she was here. "What's wrong, Rose?"

"Nothing." She hesitated. "Well ... no. It's fine."

"It clearly isn't," Edna said. "Spit it out already."

Rose swallowed, pressing her lips together. No harm in them knowing, right? "There's been some complications with Lunarre's betrayal of the Scattered Bones. He ratted us out to the Rolance nobility."

"That's not good," Sorey said. Understatement of the century. "I guess you'll be wanting to help them out, then? They're your family, after all."

Rose paused, hyperaware of how the seraphim looked at her. Mikleo frowned slightly, Lailah's brow was creased, Zaveid's eyes narrowed, and though Dezel wasn't facing her, he was scowling. Then again, he was always scowling.

"No," she finally said. The seraphim visibly relaxed. "What you guys are doing is ultimately more important—even though the Sparrowfeathers are my family, how can that compare to saving the entire world?" The words were undeniably right, but it still didn't make them feel so.

"Are you sure?" Sorey asked, his gaze probing.

"Don't worry about me," she said brusquely. She'd made her decision, and she'd keep to it. "So what's the plan? Confronting Heldalf is all fine and good, but do we even know where he is?"

"Not yet," Mikleo said. "But if we go to a heavily populated area—say, Pendrago—we may get information on events that suggest his influence."

Pendrago again, huh? "I take it that means you're leaving again?" she asked Zaveid.

" 'Fraid so," he said with a grin. "You gonna miss me? They say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

She would, but she'd ever let him know it—she had to keep up appearances, after all. She wrinkled her nose, saying, "Uh, I'm gonna have to go with no on that one."

After a little more planning she and Sorey descended to the common room, and they spent the rest of the evening hanging with the Sparrowfeathers. Sorey got along well with them, but then, he got along with just about anyone. Rose couldn't help but think back to the beginning of their acquaintance, when she'd held him prisoner at Tintagel Ruins. The Scattered Bones had treated it as the serious matter it was, though you'd never know it from the way Sorey carried himself, all smiles and compliments for everyone. Typical Sorey. No one'd really been sure what to make of him, but now it was clear they all liked him.

She didn't see why the Sparrowfeathers and Shepherd couldn't travel together for now, so the next day, they were all to leave Lohgrin together. The seraphim seemed disappointed they'd have to ride in Sorey's head instead of the wagon, and though most of them got over it, Edna was, as ever, the most determined to be annoyed. More like the most determined to be a nuisance.

"What ever happened to giving up your set for your elder?" she demanded the next morning, as the Sparrowfeathers were packing up. Everyone was much too busy to notice Rose talking to her "imaginary friend".

Rose had to intentionally unclench her jaw before she could say, "You don't really need a seat, so—"

"How rude. Are you saying that I'm incapable of sitting? Are you telling me that my legs can't get tired?" Edna got up in her face, so she took a few steps back.

"Well, no, but—"

"I'll do it." Edna stood down, twirling her parasol on her shoulder. "But in return, I expect compensation."

Seriously? "Like what?"

"I want Dezel to make Drago Stew for supper."

Dezel, who Rose just realized was sitting atop the stable's roof, demanded, "What's this got to do with me?"

"Nothing, except I'm craving Drago Stew and you're the only good cook around."

"I'm not doing it."

"Then I'm not coming along," she said with a shrug.

Of all the things she could've gotten stubborn about ... Rose looked up at Dezel. "Come on, Dezel, just do it. Please?"

His mouth was a tight line, but for some reason, his face was slightly pink. Was the heat getting to him? It was his own fault for wearing such thick, dark clothing.

"Fine," he said tersely. "Just make sure we have all the ingredients we need." And with that, he disappeared. Edna, smirking, disappeared right after.

"Seraphim," Rose muttered, as if it were a curse.


Just after settling down on Zaphgott Moor the first evening, the Sparrowfeathers had their meeting. Ultimately, they decided it would be most prudent to head to Hyland for now, and perhaps in a few years send out scouts to check if the coast was clear.

But then there was the trouble of finding Lunarre, to make him pay for his crimes.

He wasn't an idiot. Cunning and pitiless—essential qualities for an assassin—but not stupid. Rose would bet everything she had that he was pent up in Pendrago, avidly waiting for them, living under the protection of his noble buddies. Of course, that wouldn't last long—Lunarre was too faithless, too fidgety, to keep the same friends for long. The Sparrowfeathers had time and time again forgiven his blunders, thinking it was only his tragic upbringing that made him behave that way, but now they knew better. Rose certainly wouldn't be making the same mistake again, trusting someone like him.

She and Sorey were heading to Pendrago now, so if in their search for Heldalf she caught in inkling of Lunarre's whereabouts, then maybe ... but she wouldn't risk the Sparrowfeathers for it. No, the Sparrowfeathers had to stay whole.

They all wanted to know what she'd been doing with the Shepherd these past few months. She told them the superficial stuff, like the various ruins they'd visited, their clashes with Forton, and the former Pope's new illicit business, but nothing deeper than that. She'd tell them the truth one day, maybe, but right now she didn't want to deal with their inevitable incredulity. She wanted everyone to enjoy themselves for the limited time they had together.

Traveling with Sorey had been surprisingly fun, but nothing could compare to being with the Sparrowfeathers, her big family of misfits. They came from so many different backgrounds, from Caliya growing up alone on the streets of Pendrago to Rosh's aristocratic Hyland upbringing, had such different temperaments, from Flav's infectious exuberance to Kira's quiet insightfulness, and of vastly different ages too, from Stephen the baby at 16 years old to Thomas with his iron crown of curly locks, but somehow they made it work. Common perception told that assassins were coldhearted, and perhaps the Scattered Bones were so to those who abused power, but they certainly weren't to each other. Coming back to them was just like coming home.

No, it was coming home.

The evening before they were to reach the Great Camelot Bridge, she caught Dezel in the act. She'd just returned from meeting the pair of scouts who'd scoped out the Grand Camelot Bridge (who'd told her the atmosphere seemed normal and there weren't more knights present than usual) when she happened upon Stephen, Talfryn, and Felice talking amongst themselves near one of the wagons. She was about to join in when she noticed Dezel leaning against the wagon mere feet away, facing them as if he were part of the conversation. No other seraphim were around.

He only noticed her approach when it was too late. She raised her eyebrows at him, and he opened his mouth to speak but promptly closed it again. She was tempted to sternly waggle her finger at him, but he dissipated into thin air before she got the chance.

Now that she thought about it, he'd seemed different this past week of traveling. More relaxed, less pouty. Rose supposed she could attribute that to the presence of the Sparrowfeathers, which surprised her—she wouldn't have thought that someone as solitary as him would find comfort in the presence of others, especially ones as boisterous as they could be.

Perhaps in a way, he regarded the Sparrowfeathers as much as family as she did. He must've missed the Windriders ... even though he'd been the one to fuck everything up. Then again, if anything, that very fact probably made it even worse. Only three of the Sparrowfeathers had been Windriders; the rest were dead and gone. The wounds were old, but she still grieved over the loss.

No, she couldn't see Dezel as being the sole perpetrator of that tragedy. He'd only been the instigator—the distrust and the corruption and yes, the malevolence, had already been there, only waiting for the spark to set everything aflame. It would've happened sooner or later. If later, maybe they could've saved more people, but ... dwelling on it wasn't going to help now.

Finally they reached the Great Camelot Bridge, but the atmosphere was not as expected. Usually the place bustled with jovial energy, but now, there was a certain hush. Business went on but it seemed tense, as if anticipation had squelched all mirth.

"I thought you said everything was regular," Rose muttered to Talfryn, who'd been one of the scouts.

"It was," Talfryn said. "Something must've happened."

It didn't take them long to find out what. "Did you hear?" a merchant cheerfully called to them as they passed his stall. "War is on the horizon!"

Rose and Sorey glanced at each other uneasily as Eguille asked, "How do you know?"

"A rider came this morning, bearing the official seal. Rolance and Hyland are at it again, and this time, it's gonna be a bloodbath." He eyed their wagons. "What'cha got? If it's food or medicine, you're guaranteed to make a killing."

"Thanks for the advice," Rose said blandly, pushing past him, and the others followed. The seraphim were out, crowding around Sorey.

"What should we do?" Mikleo's eyes were wide with worry.

"We should try to stop it before it starts, obviously," Rose replied. "We should try to find Sergei or Alisha, since they'd have the best idea of how to stop it." And may just be the only ones in power who actually want to stop it, she privately added.

"On the bright side, we have a pretty good idea of what Heldalf's doing right about now," Edna said, though the sour look on her face belied flippancy of her tone. "Even humans aren't stupidly bloodthirsty enough to start this war business again, so soon after last time."

"Oh, I dunno about that ..." Rose said. "Where to, then? Glaivend Basin? That's where the fighting was last time."

"Boss?" Talfryn asked. "What should we do?"

Rose immediately knew the decision she was going to make, but she didn't like it. She pushed back her shoulders, standing straight, and kept her voice hushed so no passersby could hear. "Go to Pendrago, and see what you guys can do to stop the war from that end. And if you happen to cross paths with Lunarre ..." She looked each of them in the eyes, one by one. They knew what they were to do.

"So you're not coming along," Felice said, her hands nervously clasped in front of her.

It wasn't a question, but Rose answered anyway. "No, I'm not."

Felice wasn't the only uncomfortable one—most of the others shuffled their feet, looked the other way, slumped the shoulders. Celine's direct gaze pierced Rose, and her slight turn of head toward them seemed to say, T them. They deservelle to know.

True. It was such an important mission, and an extremely dangerous one too. Rose cleared her throat and said, "Sorey needs my help—specifically me. It would take too long to explain exactly how, but I promise you, I wouldn't be leaving you guys at a time like this if it wasn't important."

"Of course it is," Flav said, white teeth flashing with a sudden grin, his pale eyes mischievous. "You wouldn't miss the chance to kick noble ass for the world, boss."

"Hey, this isn't supposed to be a field trip! Don't be too reckless, all right?" Rose laughed in spite of herself. Telling him not to be reckless at all would be telling him not to be himself. "Let's all stick together until we reach Pendrago. Then we'll split." Suddenly remembering Sorey she turned to him, quickly adding, "Uh, if that's all right with you?"

"It's fine. That's the quickest way of getting to Glaivend Basin, anyway." He moved a little closer to her, and said quietly enough that none but them could hear, "Are you absolutely sure about this, Rose?"

"Positive." She'd made her decision. There was no going back now, no matter how uneasy she felt about it. That was that.

She wouldn't worry about the Sparrowfeathers—they'd be perfectly fine. They were assassins, the masters of their trade, and stealth was their forte. No way they'd let a traitor and a bunch of huffy nobles get to them.