CHAPTER 41
Emma paced outside the Greater Reading Room.
Her ball gown trailed through fire-charred debris, blackening the hem.
She didn’t mind as much as she might have.
The dress was already a patchwork of blood and river mud.
Her feet crunched over the skeletons of shattered bookcases. She didn’t mind that either.
On this side of the door, she knew what she was. Free of the Turnbulls’ cruel bargain but still bound to the Night City by her collar, her Oath. Reunited with her friends but lost to them the moment they left the Library.
On the other side, the Judge was waiting.
And she would find no softness in his ruby eyes.
She had broken the Night City’s law by speaking to mortals in the Library.
And the City was not kind to lawbreakers.
It had not cared that Sara had crossed its boundaries from desperation.
Or that Emma had been made a sacrifice against her will.
The City had always demanded punishment. And the Judge had pronounced it.
Emma wrapped her arms around herself as far as they would go, to hold back the cold, sticky feeling behind her ribs.
It didn’t help. Nat, Jasper, and Venetia huddled in the corridor beside her.
Nat was still shaking, the marks of tears on his cheeks.
Emma had found him outside the room where Hugo and Julia lay, his knees curled to his chest. He hadn’t been able to go back in.
But he had pulled off his tailcoat, still scented with champagne from the ball, and thrust it at Emma without a word.
Emma and Venetia had used it to cover Julia.
Venetia had turned away afterward, fists clenched.
But Emma had taken a moment longer to smooth the coat around Julia’s neck, as though she’d been tucking her into bed.
She remembered Julia doing the same for her, once.
Julia’s hands had been so warm. It seemed wrong for her to be so cold now.
Before she left the room, Emma had stooped to take Hugo’s pocket square from his tailcoat, and spread it gently on his face.
The door to the Greater Reading Room swung open. Robin was beckoning.
“Just to warn you, lady,” he murmured. “Himself is in no happy mood.”
He ushered Emma inside, the mortals behind her.
The Judge stalked among the remains of the Boars’ attack, his robes sweeping torn books and singed manuscripts.
Robin had been right. The Judge’s eyes, which usually glowed like coals, now had the blaze of the more unpleasant kind of hellfire.
Two spots of actual color had mounted in his cheeks.
“Never seen him so worked up,” Robin muttered almost inaudibly, to be answered by a murderous stare from the Judge.
“This night has seen crime upon crime, in measure beyond comprehending.”
The Judge’s hiss shook the room. Emma blinked, persuading herself that she absolutely had not seen a flickering forked tongue snap from between his lips like a party streamer.
“An invasion of this Library. This holy place, for all nightdwellers. Books destroyed, in full awareness that knowledge is precious to the Night City, and these books especially treasured. The wanton insurrection—but this shall be examined at trial, not here.”
Emma bent her head. Yet again, she was waiting for the Judge to pronounce a sentence.
One that might be cruel, and pointless, and unfair.
It had not mattered before, that she had done nothing wrong.
That others were to blame. So perhaps he would rip her from her sisters and the safety of the House of Foxes.
Or—she thought of the Librarian and the Sister—perhaps there were worse things to lose.
Like her hands. Her eyes. Emma’s stomach churned.
The Judge looked over the bloodstained mortals. As Emma watched, the blaze in his ruby eyes seemed to cool. And when he spoke, his voice no longer made Emma want to hide under the nearest desk.
“The Boars bear the full responsibility for this desecration, this unholy damage, and so they shall bear the full punishment for it. Yet there is another factor to consider. You. Had it not been for your actions, the damage would have been far greater.”
Emma lifted her head. She hardly trusted the first flutterings of hope in her chest.
“No bargain held you to this defense of the Library, nor the injuries you have sustained. Yet you sacrificed your safety to fight for it. It was an act of bravery and loyalty, most valued by the Night City. You have protected what it holds dear. You have earned its thanks. And the City cannot leave such a debt unpaid. Everything has a price.”
Emma’s ears were roaring.
“So, by the Night City’s order, just return shall be made for your actions. I am empowered to grant each of you a reward. A mark of the City’s favor.”
Emma fought the laugh threatening to close her throat, the hysteria bubbling at the base of her stomach.
No, the Judge was not taking her hands, or her eyes.
He was bestowing a reward instead. She tried to tell herself not to hope for too much.
Not to dream of bargaining her way out of her collar; escaping the Night City; running from this room as a mortal once more.
But her thoughts were wild creatures, and she could not command them.
“What’s the reward?” Jasper shrank back as the Judge turned ruby eyes on him.
“Whatever you wish, mortal. Within reason, and commensurate with your deed.”
Whatever she wished. The words rang through Emma like a bell.
Nat was the first to kneel before the Judge. Emma couldn’t hear a word from the back of the queue, but she couldn’t mistake the smile lighting her friend’s face. He wouldn’t meet her eye as he hurried away.
Then Jasper thumped to his knees in front of the Judge.
“I want to forget,” he said. “The monsters, the magic people. Watching Rich kill Hugo and Julia. All of you. All of it.”
The Judge nodded.
But Jasper stayed down. A frown furrowed his beautiful face.
“While we’re here, I also want to win the America’s Cup.
It’s a sailing race. Can I ask for that as well?
I’d probably need to do well in the Olympics to get on the team, so maybe it’d be better to set a solo world record—like at the Vendée Globe? That’s another race…”
Jasper began to explain the finer points of yacht sponsorship, qualifiers, and weather conditions.
“Yes. Yes. Very well,” the Judge snapped. “You cannot have everything. But you will have what you need. Just—leave me. I beg.”
Venetia was next to kneel. Emma could not hear her whispered request, but she saw the Judge draw back. A line appeared between his brows, like a crease in paper. But Venetia leaned forward, hissing urgently, and the Judge eventually sighed. He nodded.
Venetia rose with a smile, her eyes two pools of venom. The fox stirred uneasily within Emma: a shivering, fur-prickled feeling of trouble to come. But she pushed away the foreboding, distracted. The Judge’s eyes had come to rest on her.
“Emma Curran, we meet again. I seem unable to avoid it. But you, it seems, no longer bear the Turnbull mark.”
“I have repaid the Turnbull contract.” Emma lifted her chin. “The essence of one mortal life has been drained. My debt there is settled.”
“It was cleverly done. And I am empowered to grant you a further reward, as I have these others, for your defense of the Library. But yours shall be greater than theirs. For you have served the Night City with more than your courage in battle: Your cunning brought low one of the Turnbulls. And this, despite the power of the mark they bear to protect them. Never before, in all the centuries of this cursed contract, has the Night City found a way to touch them. But you have shown the path. And for that, I am ordered to give a great reward indeed.”
“I could go back to the mortal world?”
“More than that. To match your deed, the Night City has ordained that you may live equal to any Turnbull for all your days: with riches, fame, and power beyond other mortals. Perhaps you should like to reign as a queen, or hear your name spoken across all lands?”
And Emma saw herself as he had said. Heads bowing as she walked into a room, wealth and power in her train. Prizes, admiration, love: all falling into her lap. For a moment, it was all she wanted.
But a memory insisted on interrupting. A silver fox bracelet, sinking into the river’s depths. A token of loyalty between sisters, lost because she had been fixed only on her own escape. Back then, she had been ready to abandon them to their fates. Now she had a chance to choose differently.
Emma squared up to the Judge. “No. I don’t want any of that. If I want power, I’ll get it myself. I know I can do it. But this reward—it’s big enough for more than just me. So I want to share it.”
“Share?” The Judge sounded incredulous.
“I would not have survived the Night City without the fox maidens. Or the Librarian and his Sister. Or Robin…”
Robin shook his head. “Not me, lady fox. I have already been well rewarded for our work together.”
“Then just those others,” Emma told the Judge. “Divide the reward between us.”
Robin cleared his throat. “I believe they are close by, tending to the Librarian.”
“Very well,” the Judge said irritably. “Send them in.”
The Sister, the Librarian, and the fox maidens entered the Greater Reading Room. When they saw Emma, the instant relief on their faces melted her heart. The Judge called them forward.
“This fox maiden has elected to share with you a reward, given for her part in this night’s doings. Do you accept?”
Their expressions went from relief to shock. The Judge had to repeat himself twice more before it seemed to sink in. The Librarian beamed Emma’s way. The Sister had gone pale.
The fox maidens rushed for her. Saskia and Nancy; Frances and Selina and Gertie; the twins. Their scent washed over her: den smell, sister smell. It was warmth and it was safety.