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A startled gasp escaped Seph as the baron’s body dropped like a stone. The depraved tossed the baron’s head aside with disinterest—the quintessence of barbarity—then set those black and hollow eyes upon Seph.

She plastered herself to the wall, gaping at the heinous monster as she considered her options. The blade was out of reach, not that it would do any good. Saints have mercy…what horrors had the kith committed to deservethis?

“The coat…” The words gurgled from the creature, this thing composed of nightmare and evil. Its voice lacked tone, its words like a wheezing exhale. “Give meeeee…the coat.”

Linnea’s news about the depraved assimilating into ranks andtalkingswam through her mind. Seph hadn’t wanted to believe it, and despite the merciless decapitation that the creature had just performed, she couldn’t ignore the fact that it had just spoken—with actual words.

The depraved took a step forward upon clawed feet, a guttural growl rumbling from its belly. It took another stalking step and Seph itched to bolt, but she was already pressed against the pit’s wall; there was nowhere for her to go. She clutched the coat to her breast and held her shovel tight, praying to every saint and god she could think of—even the three Fates—thatsomeonewould intervene and dosomethingto save her.

“Give meeeeee?—”

Thwick.

The depraved howled as it arched, toppling back and collapsing with its wings curled inward. Its horrific features fell slack, and its black eyes stared—vacant—as the tip of a silvery arrow protruded from its skull.

Seph stared, hardly believing her eyes, while vowing to commit the rest of her life to prayer.

Thwick—thwick.

More horrific screeching sounded, and Seph looked up to where shadows churned in the mist. Silver arrows flew like shooting stars, more depraved screamed and dropped from the sky, the lantern finally flickered out, and then…

Silence.

Alder surveyed the carnage all around, scanning for movement—just to be sure—and slung his bow over his shoulders.

Infernal oversized bats.

They were what’d inevitably convinced him to alter course. Depraved didn’t gather without reason. Not these days. Massie might have a silver tongue, but he hadn’t exaggerated about their evolving intellect—though to call itintellectwas generous. It was more that they’d developed a kind of hive mind, subject to the commands of their ruler.

Whoever it was. Massie had pinned it on Alder.

Ironically, if that were true, it would make Alder’s situation a lot easier. For one, he’d have an army. It was unfortunate that he hadn’t fully appreciated the benefits of this when he’d retained one the first time.

Sybaritic fool.

Alder’s footsteps crunched upon the earth as he maneuvered through depraved carcasses, searching. Where was that pit he’d spied earlier? There’d been a lantern burning at the floor of it, and he was certain he’d shot a depraved inside?—

Alder’s ear twitched at the faintest whimper. Ahumansound.

He slipped the enchanted rock from his satchel as he walked, spoke the word, and the symbol etched upon the surface glowed with silvery light. The glowing rock now floated beside him, as he’d enchanted it to do, and—thus illuminated—he spotted the edge of a gaping hole.

Ah.

The little light followed him as he approached the pit and peered over the ledge, startled to find Rys’s sister standing at the bottom of it. He marveled at the state of her, all covered in dirt and blood—both depraved and human, to his surprise. Her shock of white hair stuck out in every direction, a wild look lit her eyes, and Alder thought she looked every bit the lion Rys had described.

“Youagain!” she snarled.

She had the temperament of one too. Truthfully, it was a lot to package in such a little person, and Alder wasn’t altogether sure what to do with it.

“Yes, it’smeagain,” he said, “and I believe what you meant to say isthank you.”

Josephine wasn’t having any of his good humor. “You want me tothankyou?” Those sky-blue eyes burned through him like the summer sun. “Since you’ve shown up, I’ve learned my brother is dead, I was chased down by the baron, and nearly torn apart by a horde of depraved, so you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not feeling much gratitude toward you at the moment.”

She did have a point.

But this business about the baron surprised him.

Alder looked around the pit, spotting the dead depraved near her feet—the first one he’d shot—and beside it, sprawled in the mud with limbs contorted at odd angles was…