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Skye gingerly took the paper, staring at it wordlessly for several long moments. “I’ll give it to Sarina,” he finally said. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to have it.”

He walked away, and Eula turned back, discreetly wiping her eyes. When she caught Kato staring, she frowned. “Why isn’t there a crate in your hands?”

Kato pointed to the top of the wall. “Because they’re all up there.”

“Then why aren’t you unpacking them?” she asked archly, marching past him.

Aiden leaned against the battlement, watching Skye as he retreated back to the townhouse.

He was worried. Skye had stopped sleeping—that much was obvious. And Sarina confirmed that he was barely eating, coming into the kitchen late at night and taking whatever scraps were left. He and Ivain were no longer speaking; he barely spoke to Sarina.

And then there was what Aiden had just witnessed down below. Skye shouldn’t have been able to lift that cannon. Not on his own and not given his current physical state. But that then begged the question: how had he done it? What was he doing to himself behind closed doors? Aiden had heard of forbidden spells capable of altering a shadow mage’s physiology, but even if he had access to that kind of magic, Skye had never been reckless.

But now with the specter of Taly’s loss looming behind him like a shadow… well, Aiden was worried. Both as a healer and a friend.

“There you are.”

Aiden turned his head. “Aimee?”

He was still surprised she had decided to go into mourning, but, indeed, as she poked her head around the darkened stairwell, her dress was black, as were her shoes, her gloves, her cape, even the combs pinning back her dark hair. She and Taly had never been close, but it seemed his sister wasn’t completely unaffected by the loss.

Interesting.

“I thought you’d be working in the gardens,” she said a bit out of breath, gathering up her skirts as she hopped over the final two stairs. They were broken, little more than rubble.

“I was,” he said, holding out a hand and helping her step around several fallen sacks of sand. The little rundown alcove he’d found at the top of the wall was out of the way, mostly used for storage. “I just came up here to get some air. I don’t think most people consider just how much manure it takes to grow food. I’m still not used to the smell.”

Her lips pursed, nose crinkling. She looked around the small alcove, taking in the arched stone overhead, the crumbling battlement. On one side lay the city—this section of town had been devoted to food production. On the other, the forest spread into the distance.

“You get used to the screams,” he said when he saw her flinch. There was a child crying from somewhere far away. He’d barely noticed. After spending so much time this close to the walls, the noise had faded into the background.

Aimee clutched her bag tighter, hugging it to her body. “Is it always like this?”

He nodded. “It gets louder at night. The shades—the fresh ones patrol the forest justoutside the city. They’re trying to lure people outside the walls.”

A new voice joined in. A boy this time. He sounded young as he screamed for someone named “Sukie.”

“Does it ever work?” she asked softly.

Aiden shrugged. “In the beginning, yes.” He’d almost been fooled on more than one occasion. “But anyone stationed near the walls knows they’re not real. Some have even started playing music to drown out the noise.”

Aimee was quiet, growing paler with every moment she continued to listen. By some small mercy, music began to trickle up to them from somewhere in the fields, a lively fiddling tune that was soon joined by a flute and then a pack of wild drums.

“Did you need something?” Aiden prompted.

She jumped, shaking her head as though she’d just remembered. “Yes, I… Sarina asked me to bring you lunch.”

On cue, Aiden’s stomach gave a ferocious growl. He’d spent his morning in the gardens, and his afternoon had already been promised to the menders. Most nights he was so low on aether, he fell face-first into bed, only to blink and suddenly find that it was morning.

Aimee held out the bag, and he grabbed it, tearing it open. There were sandwiches, a few pieces of fruit, a jug of sour wine, some dried meat.

He took the dried meat first, savoring it. They wouldn’t have meat for very much longer. Ivain had decided that livestock were too inefficient for the number of people they had to feed, which meant that when their current stores ran out, it would be grain and vegetables and little else.

Aimee chuckled softly as she took up a spot beside him on the wall, leaning out so she could see the mages working down below. “I suppose it wouldn’t matter if I said you were pushing yourself too hard.”

He gave her a playful roll of his eyes. Leave it to his sister to worry. “Once the food supply is stable, Ivain said I can focus on healing.”

“And when will that be?”