Chapter 33 · The Mortons Left a Witness

"Give me the shard, Kaiser."

Kaiser’s fingers closed around the black sliver before I could take it.

He stood between me and the open vault, coat dark with melted frost, his mouth set in that cold little line that usually meant someone else was about to lose a limb.

"No."

"That wasn’t a request."

"I know. That’s why I’m enjoying the answer."

Behind him, the black-bone army waited in the snow. Hundreds of dead soldiers. Empty eye sockets. Blades held low. Every one of them had seen the Morton crest burned into the vault door.

Every one of them had heard the memory shard scream.

Varan stepped up beside me. His breath dragged rough through his teeth. The crack in his chest had stopped spreading, but black lines still crawled under his skin like thin roots.

"Kaiser," he said, "hand it over."

Kaiser glanced at him. "You’re bleeding through your shirt. Try not to give orders until you can stand without leaning on your brother’s woman."

Varan’s hand tightened around my waist.

Not hard enough to hurt.