Chapter 34
Syneca
To find what was lost, walk backward through the place you last remember it. Your shadow recalls even when you’ve forgotten.
Sleep wasn’t happening.
I’d been staring at the ceiling for at least an hour, watching shadows shift as clouds moved across the moon outside my window, running my fingers over the Hunter’s Promise on my palm.
My mind kept replaying the medical room.
Wickett’s blood on my hands, the way he looked at me, the heat and the terrible timing between us.
His father had stabbed him. And I was lying here thinking about the way his thumb had brushed my jaw instead of figuring out how to keep us all alive.
We couldn’t get out of the fucking city.
That was the problem. As long as we continued to be smashed beneath Tiberius Veyne’s fist, there was nothing we could do.
But all I could think about was Wickett. ..
Priorities, Syn. Get some.
A soft knock at the door made me sit up.
Too quiet to be Calder. Too hesitant to be Lucy.
I rolled out of the bed, unlocked the door and opened it with a sigh.
I knew who it was before she even slipped through the gap, her wings drooping with exhaustion but her bright blue eyes too bright for someone who should be sleeping.
Pip’s matching buns sat lopsided on her head, the usual mass of charms woven in a mess. “Sorry. I know it’s late. I just... I couldn’t sleep, and I thought, maybe...”
“You want to sit with Silas,” I finished.
She nodded, eyes falling. “He just makes me feel better. Safer, I guess. Is that weird?”
“Not even a little bit.” I gestured toward the griffin, who was currently taking up three quarters of my bed and snoring loud enough to wake the dead. “Go ahead. Fair warning though, he’s a grumpy bed hog.”
Pip giggled, then flew over and settled against his warm side, tucking herself into the curve of his body. Silas huffed in his sleep but shifted slightly to accommodate her, which was the sweetest thing he seemed to always do for her.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“Anytime, Pip.”
I moved to the desk chair and sat, staring at the files I’d neglected, other than my thorough search.
“If you want me to help with them, I will,” Pip whispered.
“I’m done helping the Magistrate. In the end, it won’t save my life, anyway.”
I could tell by the nod she thought I meant the looming countdown. A trace of guilt wrapped around me.
“Do you have a Life Rune?” I whispered.
Her eyes fell heavy to the floor as she shook her head. “I, uh. I sold it for my sword.”
My hands went to the chain around my neck, fingers finding the familiar weight of my pointless Life Rune. I didn’t need it. I only wore it to blend in, to look like every other person trying to avoid being burned by my flames. I unclasped the chain and held it out to her. “Here.”
Pip’s eyes went wide. “No. Absolutely not.”
This had to be the first time she’d denied a gift in her whole life. “Pip—”
She sat up, wings fluttering with agitation. “No! You need that. I’m not taking your Life Rune because I made a foolish choice about a sword.”
“It’s not foolish if it keeps you alive. And I can get another one.”
“That’s not the point.” Her small hands pushed the chain back toward me. “You can’t just give me something that valuable. What if something happens to you? What if—”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me. Please, Pip. Let me do this.”
“No.” Her voice was firm despite the tears gathering in her eyes. “I won’t let you risk yourself for me. Not like this.”
I sighed, studying her stubborn expression. “Eda Mire had a collection of them in her shop. A whole drawer full, actually. Since I’m the owner now, I can get a new one for myself whenever I want.”
Pip’s wings stilled. “Really?”
“Really. This one’s just the most convenient right now.” I held it out again. “So take it. Please.”
She reached for it hesitantly, then pulled back. “Can’t you just... make one? I thought you could weave runes.”
“I can. But Life Runes need specific materials. Erelith ash, silver from a blessed source, bloodstone naturally sourced. I don’t have any of that here at Chancellery House.” I pressed the chain into her palm, closing her fingers around it. “This is faster. And safer. Take it, Pip.”
She looked down at the rune in her hand, then up at me with watery eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’ll pay you back. Somehow. I promise.”
“You already have. Now put it on and get some sleep.”
We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes as Pip nestled into the bed, content to be on the edge, thanks to Si’s territorial sleeping habits. Something small and metallic hit the floor with a soft ping.
Pip gasped. “My button!”
I snagged it before she could move, holding it up to catch the moonlight.
And froze.
Three circles. Perfectly aligned. Except...
“Pip, where did you get this one specifically?”
“The heretics. The day we went to the Tangles, remember? The lady who thought she was being burned alive.” She flew closer, hovering near my hand. “Why? What’s wrong?”
“This isn’t a button.” I turned it over to examine the smooth back. “Look. No holes for sewing. This is a talisman.”
“A what?”
I didn’t answer. My brain was too busy connecting dots at lightning speed.
Three circles. I’d seen this pattern before.
I lunged for the drawer where I’d hidden Vitoria’s daggers, pulling them out with shaking hands. There, engraved on the blade. Three circles.
Except when I rotated the dagger, tilted it to catch the light differently, hilt up instead of down...
Not circles.
Letters.
DeC.
“Oh my Furies,” I breathed.
“What?” Pip flew closer, trying to see. “What is it?”
“We need Lucy. Now.”
“But she’s sleeping—”
“Now, Pip. Let’s go.”
Lucette answered her door looking like she was ready to commit murder, her hair sticking up at odd angles and her eyes barely open. “This better be good.”
“It is.” I held up the dagger and the talisman. “Look.”
Her eyes focused immediately, all traces of sleep vanishing. She took both items, examining them with the kind of intensity that made her so damn good at everything she did.
“DeC,” she said finally.
“We wrote it off, but Vitoria had it engraved on her weapons for some reason. The heretics are carrying them as talismans.” I looked at her. “What does that mean?”
Lucy was quiet for a long moment, her mind clearly working through possibilities at speeds I couldn’t match. Then her eyes widened.
“We need to get to Thistle and Thorn.”
“Now? It’s the middle of the night.”
“Now.” She was already pulling on clothes, moving with the kind of urgency that made my heart race. “If I’m right about this, we can’t wait until morning.”
“What about the others?” Pip asked, racing down the hall.
I couldn’t tell them Wickett needed rest without explaining everything. Instead, I said, “We’ll be right back. Someone in this group should sleep.”
“The hunters won’t like us leaving without permission,” Pip pointed out.
I thought about Wickett bleeding in a storage room because he’d refused to betray Jorn. Thought about Tiberius’s casual cruelty, his willingness to hurt his own son for information. The way he’d kept us so close.
“I no longer give a fuck about what that man has to say about what I can and cannot do.”
Lucy grinned, sharp and dangerous. “Finally. That’s the spirit. I’ve been waiting for a little unauthorized investigation.”
We made it three blocks before Si alerted us, his sharp whistle from the sky unmistakable. Within minutes, hunters showed up. Two of them, keeping pace fifty feet behind. Not even trying to hide. But these days, two felt like an easy win.
“We’ve got shadows,” I muttered.
Lucy didn’t slow down. “Let them follow. We’re not doing anything illegal.”
“Yet,” Pip added helpfully.
“Yet,” Lucy agreed.
As we walked, Lucy explained her theory. “In ancient times, ‘est Civitas’ was added to city names, literally meaning ’the city.’ Grimora est Civitas. Brumble est Civitas. Orsith est Civitas.”
“So, DeC would be... ?”
“A place. A city starting with D.” She glanced at me. “And if Crimson died trying to tell you about it, and Vitoria had it engraved on her weapons, I’m guessing it’s not just any city.”
The neighborhood changed as we walked, familiar in ways that made my chest ache.
The Ruby District. Where Calder, Vitoria, and I had shared that tiny apartment for three years.
Where our lives had been simple, even if we hadn’t been honest about them.
Where I’d felt safe for the first time since Gran died.
I could see our building from here. I missed it. Missed the simplicity of pretending to be normal. Missed Vitoria making terrible jokes while pestering Silas. Missed Calder stealing food off both our plates with an innocent expression that fooled no one.
I’d never get that back. No matter how this ended.
“Syn?” Pip’s small hand touched my shoulder. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I forced myself to keep walking. “Just... memories.”
The bookstore loomed ahead, with its painted sign and cloudy windows. Dark, closed, very much not open for business at this horrid hour.
But I knew Mrs. Deliana lived above the shop too.
And I knew she’d help if she could. The hunters stayed back, still there, but not close enough to interfere.
Not yet. And I couldn’t help but wonder if that mark on my palm, Wickett’s protection, had something to do with it.
Still, they were likely eager for something to report, but not willing to make any more mistakes if they got it wrong.