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“Well, I mean, I have something that resembles it a little.” She glanced away, as if she couldn’t look at him while confessing something so closely guarded. “My nani had prophetic dreams, and while I sometimes experience those, mine is…different.”

That premonition needled, stronger than before. “Different, how?”

Josephine fidgeted with the fabric of the enchanted coat. “I can interpret them.”

It took Alder a moment to gather himself, for her words to settle in, and then his world drew to a sharp and very definitive point. “You’re a soothsayer.”

Oh, yes, there was definitely more to this story than what was evidenced upon the surface. The timing was of no coincidence, and Alder didn’t doubt for a second that the Fates were finally weaving their story toward its inevitable climax, with him, the coat, and this mortal girl at the center.

What did the Fates mean by it? Why put Rys’s sister in his path? Was it to test and torment him further? He was a terrible danger to her, and the sooner they parted, the better for her. He’d failed her brother in so many ways, but he would not fail Rys in this. Already, he felt his time drawing short.

“Is a soothsayer someone who can interpret dreams?” she asked.

Among other things. “Yes.”

“And is it a common gift?”

No, not even amongst the kith, and he doubted Massie would have let her go had he known, but Alder wouldn’t tell her that. “It is a special one, I’ll give you that.”

She looked as though she suspected more to his words, but she didn’t ask him to elaborate. Perhaps it frightened her, insightful girl. “Anyway, I told you my story.Nowwill you help me out of here?”

Seph wasfreezing. She couldn’t remember ever being so cold, and she knew cold, yet the kith—Marks, or so he said—did not appear to be in any sort of hurry.

To be fair, hehadinformed her that he had time.

Marks tipped his head, studying her with that keen gaze of his. “Yes, as I said. I will help you, for a price.”

Seph stared at him, not understanding. Perhaps the cold was getting to her and turning her thoughts to sludge. “I did what you asked. I gave you my story, and now?—”

“And you offered it freely,” he said, like a parent to a child.

“No, you specifically saidmystory foryouraid.”

“Ah, but you never accepted my terms. If that was your notion of assent, you should have been more definitive.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake…

Seph cursed and kicked the pit’s wall, but she was so angry that she kicked the wall harder than she’d intended and jammed her toes instead. Now she was cursing for other reasons. Meanwhile, Marks observed her with an amused expression.

“So what is yourbargain, you abominable kith?” Seph hissed.

Oh, yes, Marks was definitely smiling now. And he seemed to be enjoying her fury, his eyes flashing as he leaned forward a little. “The coat, of course.”

Seph glanced down at the coat in her hands, at the iridescent mahogany and golden embroidery that shimmered faintly in the kithlight’s glow. She raised a brow. “And what is it you plan to do with it?”

“Suffice it to say that anything of interest to Massie is of interest to me.”

Seph did not believe for a second that was the whole of it, but whatever his actual reason, she felt a surge of protection over the coat, like before, when Lord Massie had been holding it up like a trophy. “Certainly there is something else I can?—”

“There isn’t.”

His words were clipped, a final decision before he was standing and turning to go.

Again.

“Wait!” Seph called out.

He did not wait, and the kith’s light dimmed as he walked on, drawing night’s shadows thickly over the pit once more.