“I’m every bit your equal.” The look on Sevro’s face is such that I lean forward suddenly, frightened a knife will suddenly appear in Cassius’s eye.

“My equal? At what? Birth?” Cassius grins. “Oh, wait, I meant height, looks, intelligence, money? Shall I stop?”

Quinn kicks his chair hard with her foot.

“What the hell is your problem?” she snaps at him. “Never mind. Just shut the hell up.”

Sevro looks at the ground. I have the sudden urge to put a hand on his shoulder.

“What were you saying, Sevro?” Quinn asks.

“Nothing.”

“Come on.”

“He said nothing.” Cassius chuckles.

“Cassius.” My voice alone shuts him up. “Sevro, please.”

Sevro sighs and looks up at me, cheeks flushed with anger. “Just thought we should not pick our butts here while the Jackal does whatever he wants.” He shrugs. “Send me south. And let me cause trouble.”

“Trouble?” Cassius asks. “What you going to do, kill the Jackal?”

“Yes.” Sevro looks quietly at Cassius. “I’ll put a dagger in his throat and then carve a hole till I see his spine.”

The tension is enough to make me uneasy.

“You can’t be serious,” Quinn says quietly.

“He’s serious.” Cassius’s forehead creases. “And he’s wrong. We’re not monsters. Not you and I, at least, Darrow. Bellona Praetors aren’t knives in the night. We have five hundred years of honor to guard.”

“Piss and lies.” Sevro dismisses him with a wave.

“It’s in the breeding.” Cassius elevates his nose ever so slightly.

Sevro’s mouth twists cruelly. “You’re a Pixie if you buy all that. Think your papa cut his way up to Imperator by being honorable?”

“Call it chivalry, Goblin,” Cassius sneers. “It wouldn’t be right trying to murder someone in cold blood, particularly not at a school.”

“I agree with Cassius,” I say, breaking my silence.

“Small wonder.” Sevro stands to leave very suddenly. I ask him where he is going.

“You obviously don’t need me. Have all the advice you can handle.”

“Sevro.”

“I’m gonna search the ditches. Again. Bet Bellona wouldn’t do that. Wouldn’t get his precious knees dirty.” He bows mockingly to Cassius before leaving.

Quinn, Cassius, and I remain in the warroom until Cassius yawns something about catching a bit of REM before the dawn hits in six hours. Quinn and I are left alone. Her hair has been cut short and jagged, though the bangs hang just over her narrow eyes. She slouches boyishly in her chair and picks at her nails.

“What are you thinking on?” she asks me.

“Roque … and Lea.” I hear the gurgle in my mind. With it echoes all the sounds of death. Eo’s pop. Julian’s silence as he twitched in his own blood. I am the Reaper and death is my shadow.

“Is that all?” she asks.

“I think we should grab some sleep,” I reply.

She says nothing as she watches me leave.

33

APOLOGIES

Cassius wakes me in the middle of the night.

“Sevro found Roque,” he says quietly. “He’s a mess. Come.”

“Where?”

“North. They can’t move him.”

We gallop away from the castle under the light of twin moons. An early winter snow fills the air with dancing flurries. Sucking sounds come from the mud as we head toward the north Metas. No sounds but the gurgling of the water and the wind in the trees. Wiping sleep from my eyes, I look over to Cassius. He has our two ionSwords, and suddenly a pit opens in my stomach as I realize what’s what. He doesn’t know where Roque is. But he knows something else.

He knows what I’ve done.

This is a trap I cannot ride away from. I guess there are those times in life. It’s like staring at the ground as you fall from a height. Seeing the end coming doesn’t mean you can dodge it, fix it, stop it.

We ride for twenty more minutes.

“It was no surprise,” Cassius says suddenly.

“What’s that?”

“I’ve known for over a year that Julian was meant to die.” The snow falls silently as we move together through the mud. The hot horse moves between my legs. Step by step through the mud. “He made a mess of his test. He was never the brightest, not in the way they wanted. Oh, he was kind and bright with emotions—he could sense sadness or anger a klick away. But empathy is a lowColor thing.”

I say nothing.

“There are feuds that do not change, Darrow. Cats and dogs. Ice and fire. Augustus and Bellona. My family and the ArchGovernor’s.”

Cassius’s eyes are fixed ahead even as his horse stumbles and his breath makes fog in the air.

“But despite what it portended, Julian was excited when he received the acceptance letter stamped with the ArchGovernor’s personal seal. Didn’t seem right to me or my other brothers. Never thought Julian would be the sort to make it in. I loved him, all my brothers and cousins did; but you met him. Oh, you’ve met him—he wasn’t the keenest of mind, but he wasn’t the dullest; he wouldn’t have been the bottom one percent. No need to cull him from the stock. But he had the name Bellona. A name which our enemy loathes. And so our enemy used bureaucracy, used his title, his duly appointed powers, to murder a kind boy.

“To turn down an invitation to the Institute is an illegal act. And he was so delighted, and we—my mother and father and brothers and sisters and cousins and loved ones—were so hopeful for him. He trained so hard.” His voice takes a mocking tone. “But in the end, Julian was fed to the wolves. Or should I say wolf?”

He pulls his horse to a halt, eyes burning into me.

“How did you find out?” I ask, staring ahead over the dark water. Flakes of snow disappear into the black surface. The mountains are but shadowed mounds in the distance. The river gurgles. I do not dismount.

“That you did Augustus’s dirty work?” He laughs scornfully. “I trusted you, Darrow. So I did not need to see what the Jackal sent me. But when Sevro tried to steal it from me as I slept in the Greatwoods, I knew something was the matter.” He notices my reaction. “What? You thought you consorted with dullards?”

“Sometimes. Yes.”

“Well, I watched it tonight.”

A holo.

With Roque and Lea, I had forgotten about the package. Better that I had. Better that I had trusted him and not sent Sevro to steal it. Maybe he would have discarded it then. Maybe things would be different.

“Watched what?” I ask.

“A holo that shows you killing Julian, brother.”

“The Jackal got a holo,” I snort. “His Proctor gave it to him then. Guess that means the game is rigged. Suppose it doesn’t matter to you that the Jackal is the ArchGovernor’s son and that he’s manipulating you into getting rid of me.”

He flinches.

“Didn’t know the Jackal was his son, eh? I reckon you’d recognize him if you saw him and that’s why he sent Lilath.”

“I wouldn’t recognize him. I’ve never met the bastard’s spawn. He kept them hidden from us before the Institute. And my family kept me from him after …” His voice fades as his eyes sink into a distant memory.

“We can beat him, together, Cassius. We needn’t be divided—”

“Because you killed my brother?” He spits. “There is no we, you feckless quim. Get off your gorydamn horse.”

I dismount and Cassius throws me one of the ionSwords. I stand facing my friend in the mud. No one to watch but the crows and the moons. And the Proctors. My slingBlade is on the saddle; it at least has a curve, but it’s useless against an ionBlade. Cassius is going to kill me.

“I didn’t have a choice,” I tell him. “I hope you know that.”

“You will rot in hell, you manipulative son of a bitch,” he cries. “You allowed me to call you brother!”

“So what would you have had me do? Should I have let Julian kill me in the Passage? Would you?”