Chapter 18: Seraphine's Source Sends a Name

Seraphine's hand on my shoulder was so light I almost didn't feel it. What woke me was the smell — lamp oil, carefully shielded, and the faint alkaline trace of cipher ink — and when I opened my eyes she was crouching beside me in the dark, close enough that her voice would carry no further than my face.

"Tomas." Just the word, very quiet. And then she held out a folded page.

I sat up slowly so as not to disturb the silence. Across the tower's broken floor, Breck slept on his side with the complete and dedicated unconsciousness of a man who has learned to rest wherever the ground is flat. Aldric's breathing was even and untroubled. Cassian was on watch at the northern gap; I could see the dark shape of his shoulder against a slightly less dark sky. Dara was a still outline near the eastern wall.