lowest branch and Callie stepped into the moonlight. Her face shone as brightly as her eyes.
âItâs true. You came back.â
I sat there quietly, letting her believe that a sense of honor had won out over our cowardice and that weâd returned to take our rightful place as defenders of Vengekeep. She wanted a hero and, for those few moments, I got to play that part. But I knew that wouldnât last. Someone in this town finally liked me. I didnât want her liking me for the wrong reasons.
So I asked her to sit and I told her the whole story. The tapestry, the fateskein, how we werenât able to leave Vengekeep. I even told her about how my clumsiness started the fire that burned the Castellanâs house down. I felt a mite sick to my stomach. My aunt Risella was right: âHonesty is a tonic for fools.â
Callie was fascinated by the tapestry switch, frightened by the fateskein, and disappointed that our return wasnât honor driven. But she made no judgments and just listened. It felt good to tell someone all this. Once Iâd finished, she stood. âI owe you a tree-climbing lesson. Come on.â She scaled the trunk to the lowest branch and reached down for me.
âCanât I be the kind of hero who doesnât climb trees?â I asked.
âYou could. But whereâs the fun in that?â
I steadied myself and took her hand. Soon I was on the low branch. We didnât stop there. Together, we worked to go higher and higher. She scampered up with ease. I almost fell only twice. Or three times.
Okay, I lost count.
Each time, she grabbed my wrist and wouldnât let go. We disappeared into the thick, shadow-dappled leaves until we could go no farther and our heads popped out of the top of the tree.
âBangers!â I whispered.
From here, we could see the whole of Vengekeep. The only buildings taller than the tree were the town-state hall to our right, the clock tower straight ahead, and the turret marking the town mageâs house behind us. Twinkling candles in the streetlights dotted the empty roads. I could see the far watchtowers that guarded Vengekeepâs southern borders, the farthest point of the town-state. And all I could think about were the people who still believed in us, sleeping soundly in the knowledge that the Grimjixes were here to protect them.
I wanted to vomit.
We sat on the highest branch, pushing the leaves out of our way to get the whole view.
âYou did it,â I said. âYou got me to climb the tree.â
âNo, you did it,â she said, poking me in the ribs. âIf klutzes can climb trees, who says thieves canât be heroes?â
I blushed. âI suppose this means I need to start your thieving lessons. So tell me, Miss Strom, what will you do with your new skills?â
Her eyes sparkled. âIâll tear up all my lady dresses, say good-bye to the widow Bellatin, and become a night bandit. Iâll roam the countryside, pillaging wherever I go.â
We laughed and I almost fell. Almost. She grabbed my arm to hold me in place. And she didnât let go.
My eyes rested on the tall turret in the distance. If Lotha was still around, he probably would know a spell to stop this mess. But he was dead and Talian, his replacement, wouldnât be back for a while. So all we had to rely on wasâ
A lump caught in my throat. I thought about what Nanni had told me the other night about being valuable to the family. EveryoneâMa, Da, Aubrinâhad their specialties and I had mine: beating magic with nonmagical means. In all our talk about plans to stop the prophecies, Iâd forgotten about that. I did still have something to contribute.
âCallie,â I whispered to the darkness, my gaze never leaving the turret, âyou ready to learn how to pick a lock?â
8
Quarantine
âSlashing your own throat and sharing a secret produce the same results.â
â Lorris
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley