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Seph and Linnea glanced apart: Linnea folded her arms and glared at the shutters, while Seph turned back to the pelts.

Plink.

Plink-plink.

Mama broke the silence. “Sephie, you mentioned High Lord Massie is searching for someone…?”

“I did,” Seph replied after a moment.

“I thought you said you didn’t speak with them,” Linnea accused.

“I didn’t,” Seph replied, her tone clipped. “I overheard them.”

Quiet.

“Do you knowwhohe is searching for?” Mama asked, impatient.

Seph held up the largest pelt and examined the quality. It would do nicely for Nora’s feet. “Some…Alder, I think.”

Linnea’s eyes widened, and she looked to their mama. “That’s the name Bracey mentioned last week!” Her voice was eager and conspiratorial, as if adding more intelligence to a conversation shared privately between them.

But Seph focused more on Linnea’s intimate use of his name. “Bracey…?”

Linnea made a face at her.

“And who is this Alder again?” Mama asked, struggling to follow and looking as though she might be suffering from the beginnings of a migraine.

“The Weald Prince. The one who deserted his regiment and joined forces with the depraved.”

Ah, that was why Seph had heard the name: Alder was the prince of the Weald Court. A kith, said to be handsome with unparalleled charm—and power—but used these to deceive, manipulate, and exploit, much to the chagrin of his people.

And his regiment, apparently.

But Seph couldn’t wrap her mind around the second part of Linnea’s answer. “Wait, they’re saying he’shelpingthe depraved…?”

Linnea cast her a look that very much said,What rock have you been hiding under?

To which Seph returned with one that said,I don’t have time for town gossip, since I’m too busy making sure you all don’t starve to death.

“Yes,” Linnea said. “That’s what everyone is saying. Reports from the Rift say the depraved are more numerous than ever, and they have a leader?—”

“Aleader?” Seph cut in, both brows raised. “The depraved lack both acumen and autonomy?—”

“Not anymore, they don’t. The depraved have evolved, somehow. They cantalk, and their master—whoever it is—has been leading them in organized attacks at the Rift, making thingsverydifficult for our fighters.”

Well, this was shocking, indeed! Everyone understood that the depraved were not the usual sort of enemy. Of course they weren’t; they’d been created specifically by a Fate as punishment. The depraved didn’t know reason or remorse, they killed because they were designed to kill. They were unnatural weapons with singular purpose. Oftentimes they killed each other while fighting over a body—living or dead—and they answered to no one except their own lust for blood and flesh and bone. The worst of it was that a person need only be infected with a drop of depraved saliva before falling victim to the same horrible corruption.

Which was why the depraved were so damned impossible to get rid of. They multiplied too easily.

But what Linnea had just claimed…

“If the Weald Prince is truly working with the depraved,” Mama said, as if wanting to push the conversation along, because this disturbing revelation was clearly old news, “why in the devil would they be searching for himhere? In little Harran?”

Linnea unfolded her arms, and her forehead wrinkled.

Seph looked pointedly at her sister. “It seems our esteemed Lord Bracey has not been entirely honest with you.”

Linnea bristled. “He told me everything he knew. The baron was still talking with the kith when I left. It’s possible they hadn’t discussed that yet, but I trust Lord Bracey.”