Chapter 28 · The Blood Door

The note was still warm from the fire when Alto read it a third time.

Bring me the pureblood prince.

Nemi was gone. The smoke had barely cleared from the broken holding yard, and all Alto had left was a strip of hide pinned to a post with somebody's knife.

Kael stood beside him with one hand pressed over the fresh bandage at his ribs. Blood had soaked through anyway. His face had gone gray under the dirt.

"Say it," Kael said.

Alto folded the note once. Then again. "She's taking her below the old customs house."

"You know that how?"

"Because Shana likes cages. And because the witch-hunters keep their people below the customs house when they don't want the city hearing them scream."

Kael looked at him. "That's a guess."

"No." Alto shoved the note into his shirt. "That's me knowing Shana."

It was also the sand talking under his boots.

Not words. Not exactly. A dry scratching behind his eyes. A memory that wasn't his. Iron doors. Wet stone. A child crying until she couldn't make sound anymore.

He hated when the dead did that.