The vehemence of my words surprised Olrus, and the old Demon offered me a sideways glance before grabbing the shovel and tossing dirt over his former employer. I helped him, all the while remembering exactly what Vagach had planned on doing to me earlier that day, and every time he had done it before. Each strike of soil against his body was a soothing balm on my soul, as if I was reclaiming parts of me the fewer parts of him showed to the world.

“We need to return inside and clean up,” I murmured, pulling myself out of the spiral of rage that seemed to sink its claws deeper into me, as if now that I was free, the emotion wanted to remain unchecked.

“Aye,” the old Demon muttered, wiping his brow with the back of his sleeve. How he still stood with the extensive injuries he possessed was beyond me, even with the poppy. His face looked much better, at least, his one eye shrunk to a more normal size, and the split in his lip healed over.

We strode in silence toward the house, both trying to regain our breath before the next phase of our cleanup began. As we entered the kitchen, I sniffed, my sensitive nostrils detecting the heavy metallic scent. “Leave the doors open,” I suggested to Olrus, who nodded and braced it with a rock before doing the same with the opposite one. A cool breeze filled the space, and as I stoked the stove and lit the sconces on the walls, the flames flickered, giving the scene a haunting atmosphere.

Olrus had fetched a bucket and rags and was on his knees, sopping up the garnet liquid, and I joined him. At least my dress was black, otherwise it would have been ruined beyond measure—not that I planned on keeping it anyway. The last rays of the sun died a moment before a boisterous laugh filtered through the open doors and into our ears.

Olrus and I froze, only our eyes moving to meet. Oranges still scattered across the floor, some dotted with blood, though the large spot that had pooled around Vagach’s body was nearly gone. Then, a knock sounded on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” Orlus said immediately, jumping to his feet.

I reached for his wrist and pulled him to a stop. “No! They’re here looking for Vagach. It should be me.”

He shook his head and dropped his voice to a whisper. “I can say that you two are spending your last hours together and he asked not to be disturbed. You can’t offer an excuse like that.”

Relief exuded from my pores as I released him. “Thank you.”

As he approached the foyer, I brushed as many oranges as I could out of view, then curled around myself with my back against the cabinets.

“Hello, Soli,” Olrus said, loud enough for me to hear.

Fucking Soli. She was a few years older than me and Priestess Anara’s favorite pupil. All through school, we’d butted heads, and I hated her fake piety. Everyone knew that she’d given herself to a male before she came of age at one hundred and eighty, though the moment her birthday ended, her parents had married her off to Stryi’s wine merchant—an old, creepy male with whom I would have been even more miserable than Vagach.

Still, that she was here wasn’t a good sign.

“Hello, Olrus. Is Kormánzó Vagach available? Priestess Anara and Százados Jaku request his presence,” her overly sweet voice cloyed down the hall and into my ears.

Olrus released a nervous chuckle. “Kormánzó Vagach asked me to remain this evening and field any visitors as he wants to spend as much time,” Olrus paused as if he were searching for the right words, “ensuring his legacy with Assyria as possible before he goes.”

“Oh!” Soli gasped. “Of course, that should be the Kormánzó’s highest priority.” I rolled my eyes at her breathy tone. Soli had always been jealous of my burgundy eyes. When Vagach and I married, her dagger-like stare speared into me from the back of the temple as she hung on the wine merchant’s arm, belly swollen with his seed.

“If you could be so kind as to pass along the message,” Olrus offered, a creak following his statement. I pictured him standing firmly in the doorway, attempting to close Soli off as quickly as he could.

“Absolutely. I shall pray to the Fates tonight to bless their coupling,” she promised with a little giggle.

“I am certain they will appreciate it,” Orlus responded. “Take care now and send my best to your husband.”

A light pattering of footsteps preceded an, “I will!”

The door closed with a click, and then a clunk as the lock went into place. Olrus returned, looking as weathered as the trees after a hard rain. “I’ll finish up here. You bathe and gather whatever you need to take with you. You need your strength for what lies ahead.”

Taking a small step forward, I wrapped my arms around Olrus, careful with the placement and the strength of my grip so I did not hurt him further. “I will find some way to repay you, Olrus.”

“Repay me by leading a life worth living. Have adventures. Meet new people. Let your strength shine.” His cardinal eyes shone with fatherly affection again when I stepped back.

“I will.”

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4

“Assyria,” a voice hissed, and I groaned, awareness coming to me in small sips. Ache was the first item to capture my attention, followed by something wet pressing against my face.

“Assyria,” the voice said again, this time louder and more insistent. I blinked, the world coming into focus slowly as sleep still sunk its claws into me. Olrus stood beside my bed, and the moisture against my face was from a lovely puddle of drool on my feather pillow. When I raised my hand to wipe my eyes, there was only a slight twinge in my ribs. Thank the Giver for Demon’s ability to heal quickly. That didn’t stop the protest in my muscles when I sat upright.

“Did you stay up all night?” I asked, voice thick and groggy.

“Had to make sure you woke up on time,” the old Demon shrugged. “There’s food in the kitchen.”

I yawned, and Olrus departed. Swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress, I dangled them for a moment as I braced myself for what I would have to do. When my feet hit the carpet, I allowed myself a moment to wiggle my toes in the plush fabric. What waited for me beyond Stryi was a mystery, though not one that filled me with apprehension. More than anything, excitement flowed through my veins, and it was that emotion that propelled me toward Vagach’s dresser, where I pulled out clothing to wear that day. Beside it, a pack waited for me to heft it and carry along on my adventure.

Once I’d donned my dead husband’s clothes, I closed my eyes and tapped into the well of shadows in my chest, weaving them until I’d formed his body over mine. It was always an odd sensation, like I was wearing clothes far too large for me, and yet I still saw through his eyes. The world was different when I was several inches taller.

By the time I strolled into the kitchen, Olrus was already seated at the table and slathering butter on browned bread. Across from him, an identical plate waited for me. He picked his head up when he noticed my entrance, nearly jumping out of his seat before remembering my power. “You look exactly like him.”

“And hopefully I can act enough like him that no one will notice the difference,” I said, the chair scraping as I dragged it back and settled on it. It creaked under my new weight.

“How exactly does your power work?” Olrus asked before taking a bite of the bread.

I lifted a fork and speared into the eggs on my plate. “I can embody anyone, though people I am less familiar with are difficult. As long as I can get a clear picture in my mind, I am able to become whomever I want.”

“And obviously your voice matches theirs too,” Olrus observed.

I nodded. “But I am still me, on the inside. I don’t become them, if that makes sense.”