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Perg has already loved me more than my father ever did.

“No,” I lie. “No, I didn’t.”

Relief relaxes his features. “Good. But ... already things are turning around for me.” He grins, a touch of mischievousness in the expression. “I mean, now two castes can’t mock me without a beating. And in a year, I’ll be ready to compete for Intra.” His grin fades. “So I can’t—”

I pat his arm. “I’m happy for you. Truly. You’ve earned it twice over, Perg.” My eyes moisten for so many reasons, and I don’t want to examine any of them. I embrace him again, propping my chin on his shoulder. “I’m going to miss you, Perg.”

He throws an arm around my shoulders and pulls tight. “I’ll miss you, too, Lark.”

I release him regretfully. I manage to wait until I’m around a bend in the corridor to wipe my tears. It really is goodbye, because we won’t be able to write; no messenger service exists between the humans and Cagmar. And I don’t even know where I’ll end up. I don’t know if I’ll ever see Perg—my brother—again.

I’m so focused on keeping my face calm and dry that I run into another trollis when I enter the market. Backstepping, I offer an apology.

Turning, Grodd looks down on me and sneers. Fear pumps into my heart so quickly it stings. I retreat another step, then another.

“That’s what I hate about rats,” he growls, following me. “They never leave their nests, even to preserve their worthless lives.”

A hand cups around my shoulder from behind. Perg. He must have followed me out.

“Is there a problem,Pleb?” he asks, his voice lower and bolder than I’ve ever heard it.

Grodd tenses. His tight fists make the veins in his arms pop out. His teeth will chip any second for how hard he grinds them. “No,” he pushes between his lips. “None.” He turns around like every movement pains him, and stalks back into the market as though on rusted joints.

I squeeze Perg’s hand. If I allow myself to speak, I’ll break into a blubbery mess.

He squeezes back. Nothing is certain but hope ... and I hope dearly that somehow, someday, I will see him again.

Early evening hues filter through my tiny apartment window, colors of resolution, sorrow, and uncertainty. Standing in their glow, I feel like a stranger. Like I never was a part of Cagmar.

My gaze wanders to the natural crack in the stone behind my cot, where I had stowed Azmar’s bloodstone. I wonder how long Unach searched for it, or if the glint of its copper wires gave it away. I yearn to hold it in my hands, but it’s better that I don’t. It would be cruel to Azmar to take it with me. It would be cruel to myself. Every time I looked at it would be like picking off the scab of a deep wound.

I take in a shuddering breath and hold it until my lungs hurt. Maybe, down there in the canyon, I tore my own heart out. Maybe Iused so much fear on the monsters that I emptied the well. Maybe I can have a new start. One I won’t ruin.

It’s a nice lie. I’ll hold on to it for a little while. I need every balm I can get.

The door creaks. I didn’t bother locking it, since I only needed to retrieve my bag. When I turn, a shock like dry thunder runs from my heels to my skull, burning hot and cold beneath my skin.

Azmar.

He stands in the doorway, filling it, his corded hair pulled back. He’s dressed in his usual simple attire. His shoulders hunch slightly, and a slip of bandaging peeks out from his collar.

I try to say his name, but my voice has turned to dust. My sore throat twists.

But the fear ... There’s no fear in his eyes.

“Lark,” he whispers. I think I hear relief in his tone. But instead of warm hope blooming, a sapping dread pulls me down. I search his face, his stature, trying to read him. I can’t.

My hands are shaking.

He steps in, closes the door behind him, and wipes a hand down his face. “I was so worried they’d hurt you. That you wouldn’t come back.”

Heat pricks my face. My eyes water.

Azmar sobers. Takes another step, then another. Reaches for me.

I step back, and a delicate fiber of fledging strength snaps like an old lute string. “I-I don’t understand.” I sound like a frog and shake my head like a madwoman. “I-I saw you in the infirmary. Azmar, you were so frightened—”

A tear burns down my face.