The Final Strife

A lump formed in Sylah’s throat. Since when did she trust the ears in the Ember Quarter before the Dredge?

They walked silently through the streets, toward the Duster Quarter and up across the Tongue, each of them muted by their own thoughts.

The basket by Sylah’s waist felt heavy on her hip, though it only contained the letter. Was it bribery, blackmail, or bounty?

Sylah felt Hassa’s stare and locked eyes with her. Her expression was guarded and curious.

How was she going to explain why they needed to get into the warden library? Her mission from the Sandstorm was long overdue.

Anoor sniffed beside her.

“Are you okay?”

Anoor’s mouth was parted as she looked at the Ruta River below the Tongue. The trotro rattled past, filled with vegetables for the Ember Market.

“This river separates so much more than just land.” Anoor’s voice was soft, thoughtful. “It’s like the rack, it splits the city in two. Blood oozing out.”

They walked in silence after that.

—

They were nearly at the Keep when Sylah spoke.

“We need to get into the library.”

Her words gave Anoor unwarranted permission to launch into an explanation, the moroseness from the ripping momentarily forgotten.

“Sylah found this map in the Dredge in an old Ghosting dwelling with a piece of land that shouldn’t be there if the Ending Fire burned everything, so we think there’s something the wardens know that they’re not telling the citizens and we want to read the journals in the library but we don’t know how to get in.”

“Breathe,” Sylah demanded.

Hassa’s eyes had narrowed to slits. Sylah, can we talk over here for a second? Hassa tilted her head toward a courtyard cast in shadow, thirty handspans away.

“Be right back,” Sylah said to Anoor.

Why do you really need to get into the library? I can’t imagine you give two shits about a map.

Sylah recoiled. “I do. Don’t you think it’s weird that there’s a map with unrecognizable land on it? How would the artist know what to draw?” Sylah’s voice was low; though the street was empty, they stood in front of an Ember villa.

That’s the only reason you need to get into the library? Nothing to do with the Sandstorm?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, the Sandstorm are dead.”

Hassa just tilted her head, waiting.

Sylah opened her mouth to deny it, then her shoulders drooped in defeat.

“What do you know?”

Not much. I guessed that friend of yours, Jond, was another of the Stolen. But I’m not sure why you’re training the girl, or why you need to get into the library.

Sylah looked backward, just to double-check Anoor hadn’t drifted any closer. The girl was watching a kori bird in the joba tree above her.

“Bloodwerk. She’s teaching me to bloodwerk in exchange for the training.”

And then you teach your friend? For the trial of bloodwerk?

“Yes.”