“No.”

“It’s not just the siege that threatens,” I say. “Keris will be here within days. She’s already made one attempt on the Empress’s life. She’s angry. She will make another. We must thwart her before that happens. If she doesn’t know where Livvy and your heir are, then she cannot hurt them.”

“If I send my wife and unborn child out of Antium, people will think I fear those fur-wearing, woad-faced bastards.” He doesn’t lift his attention from the map before him, but every muscle in his body is bunched. He holds his temper by a thread. “The child should be born in Antium, in the Emperor’s palace, with witnesses, so there are no questions of his parentage.”

“We could do it quietly,” I say, desperation creeping into my voice. I must secure a regency. I must not let any more harm come to my baby sister. I’ve failed enough on that score. “No one has to know she’s gone. The city will be preparing for war. The Paters won’t notice.”

“You’re suddenly very interested in the survival of my dynasty.”

“Livia is the only sibling I have left,” I say. “I don’t want her to die. As for your dynasty, I am your Blood Shrike. I will not insult your intelligence by claiming to like you, my lord. I find you . . . difficult. But my fate and my sister’s are tied to yours, and if your line fails, we both die. Please, get Livia and the child to safety.” I take a deep breath. “I think it’s what he would want.”

I don’t say Zacharias’s name. Mentioning him is either brilliant or unforgivably stupid. Marcus finally looks up from the map. His jaw clenches, his fists bunch. I brace for the blow—

But then he hisses through his teeth, as if in sudden pain.

“Send her to my family,” he says. “My parents are in Silas. No one is to know, especially not the Bitch of Blackcliff. If anything happens to my heir because of this, Shrike, it will be your head on a pike. After she’s gone, I want you back here. You and I have something we need to do.”

* * *

Clouds threaten on the horizon, heavy and low. I smell the storm approaching. Livvy needs to get on the road before it hits.

Faris has men positioned along the entire street, and as far as they know, the Empress is leaving to visit an ailing aunt on the outskirts of the city. The carriage will return with another woman dressed as Livvy by nightfall.

“Rallius and I can handle it, Shrike.” Faris looks askance at the Black Guard waiting at the end of the road—a dozen handpicked, hardened warriors.

“You are traveling with my only sister and the heir of the Empire,” I say. “I could send a legion with you and it wouldn’t be enough.”

“This is ridiculous,” Livia says as I bundle her into the carriage. The first raindrops begin to fall. “We will hold the city. You will hold the city.”

“The Karkauns are coming, yes,” I say. “But Keris is too. We nearly lost you once because I wasn’t wary enough of her. The only reason you’re still alive—”

“I know.” My sister’s voice is soft. She has not asked me about the healing—about why I never healed her before. Perhaps she knows I do not wish to speak of it.

“We cannot risk it.” I harden myself. “We cannot risk the future of the Empire. Go. Watch your back. Trust Faris and Rallius and no one else. When it’s safe again, I’ll send for you.”

“I won’t go.” Livia grabs my hand. “I will not leave you here.”

I think of my father. His sternness. I am Mater of Gens Aquilla now, and it is the future of the Gens—the future of my people—that I must protect. “You will go.” I pull my fingers from her grip. Thunder rumbles, closer than I thought it would be. “You will remain hidden. And you will do it with the grace with which you have done everything else, Empress Livia Aquilla Farrar. Loyal to the end. Say it.”

My sister bites her lip, her pale eyes glowing with anger. But then she nods, as I knew she would. “Loyal to the end,” she says.

By the time the storm has broken over Antium, Livia is well away from the capital. But my relief is short-lived. You and I have something we need to do. I will not soon forget the abuse that Marcus inflicted on Livia. I think back to a year ago, during the Trials. To the nightmares that plagued me of Marcus as Emperor and me doing his bidding. What does he have planned for me now?

XXXIX: Laia

My blood transforms to lead at the sound of the jinn and their strange, layered voice. It throbs with cunning and rage. But beneath it flows a river of almost imperceptible sorrow, just like with the Nightbringer.

“Where is Elias?” I know they will not tell me anything of worth, but I ask anyway, hoping that some response will be better than silence.

We will tell you, they croon. But you must come to us.

“I’m not a fool.” I rest my hand on my dagger, though doing so serves no practical purpose. “I know your king, remember? You’re as slippery as he is.”

No tricks, Laia, daughter of Mirra. Unlike you, we do not fear the truth, for it is the truth that shall free us from our prison. And the truth shall free you from yours. Come to us.

Elias has never trusted the jinn. I shouldn’t either—I know this. But Elias is not here. Nor are the ghosts. And something is very wrong, otherwise he would be here. I need to get across the Forest. There is no other path to Antium—to the Blood Shrike—to the last piece of the Star.