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My fingers brush up against the bottle of bloodroot in my pocket. You told Laia you’d take it to her, Elias, a voice chides me. Days ago.

But I also said I’d join Hel and the boys in the barracks. Hel’s already mad at me. If she finds out I’m visiting Scholar slave-girls in the dead of night, she won’t be pleased.

I stop and consider. If I’m quick about it, Hel will never know where I’ve been.

The Commandant’s house is dark, but I stick to the shadows anyway.

The slaves might be in bed, but if my mother’s asleep, then I’m a swamp jinn. I prowl around to the servants’ entrance, thinking to leave the oil in the kitchen. Then I hear voices.

“This hidden trail—where does it let out?” I recognize the speaker’s murmur. Laia.

“The docks.” That’s Izzi, the kitchen slave. “Is that where you’re going?”

After listening a moment longer, I realize that they’re planning to take the treacherous hidden trail out of the school and into Serra. The trail isn’t watched, solely because no one is stupid enough to risk sneaking out that way. Demetrius and I tried it without ropes on a dare six months ago and nearly broke our necks.

The girls will have a hell of time making it across. And it will be doubly miraculous if they make it back. I start after them, thinking to tell them that the risk isn’t worth it, not even for the legendary Moon Festival.

But then the air shifts and freezes me in my tracks. I smell grass and snow.

“So,” Helene says from behind me. “That’s who Laia is. A slave.” She shakes her head. “I thought you were better than the others, Elias. I never imagined you would take a slave to your bed.”

“It’s not like that.” I wince at how I sound: like a typical bumbling male, denying wrongdoing to his woman. Except Helene’s not my woman.

“Laia’s not—”

“Do you think I’m stupid? Or blind?” There is something dangerous in Helene’s eyes. “I saw how you looked at her. That day when she brought us to the Commandant’s house before the Trial of Courage. Like she was water and you were just dying of thirst.” Hel collects herself. “Doesn’t matter. I’m reporting her and her friend to the Commandant right now.”

“For what?” I’m astounded at Helene, at the depths of her anger.

“For sneaking out of Blackcliff.” Helene’s practically gnashing her teeth.

“For defying their master, attempting to attend an illegal festival—”

“They’re just girls, Hel.”

“They’re slaves, Elias. Their only concern is pleasing their master, and in this case, I assure you, their master would not be pleased.”

“Calm down.” I look around, worried someone will hear us. “Laia’s a person, Helene. Someone’s daughter or sister. If you or I had been born to different parents, we might be in her shoes instead of our own.”

“What are you saying? That I should feel sorry for the Scholars? That I should think of them as equals? We conquered them. We rule them now. It’s the way of the world.”

“Not all conquered people are turned into slaves. In the South, the Lake People conquered the Fens and brought them into the fold—”

“What is wrong with you?” Helene stares at me as if I’ve sprouted another head. “The Empire has rightfully annexed this land. It’s our land. We fought for it, died for it, and now we’re tasked with keeping it. If doing so means we have to keep the Scholars enslaved, so be it. Have a care, Elias. If anyone heard you spouting this trash, the Black Guard would toss you into Kauf without a thought.”

“What happened to you wanting to change things?” Her righteousness is getting damn irritating. I thought she was better than this. “That night after graduation, you said you’d improve things for the Scholars—”

“I meant better living conditions! Not setting them free! Elias, look at what the bastards have been doing. Raiding caravans, killing innocent Illustrians in their beds—”

“You’re not actually referring to Daemon Cassius as innocent. He’s a Mask—”

“The girl’s a slave,” Helene snaps. “And the Commandant deserves to know what her slaves are doing. Not telling her is tantamount to aiding and abetting the enemy. I’m turning them in.”

“No,” I say. “You’re not.” My mother’s already made her mark on Laia.

She’s already gouged out Izzi’s eye. I know what she’ll do if she learns they snuck out. There won’t be enough left to feed the scavengers.

Helene crosses her arms in front of her. “How do you plan to stop me?”

“That healing power of yours,” I say, hating myself for blackmailing her but knowing it’s the only thing that will get her to back down. “The Commandant would be mighty interested in that, don’t you think?”

Helene goes still. In the light of the full moon, the shock and hurt on her masked face hit me like a blow to the chest. She backs away, as if worried that I’ll spread my sedition. As if it’s a plague.

“You’re unbelievable,” she says. “After—after everything.” She sputters, she’s so angry, but then she draws herself up, pulling out the Mask that lives at her core. Her voice goes flat, her face expressionless.

“I want nothing to do with you,” she says. “If you want to be a traitor, you’re on your own. You stay away from me. In training. At watch. In the Trials. Just stay away.”