Chapter 19: What Sorrel Said

Sorrel came back at dusk, as I had known she would.

She let herself in with the key Pell had given her and shut the door softly behind her.

"The cart is at the kitchen gate," she said. "Tonight, Nev. The driver is paid."

"No."

"Please."

"Sit down, Sorrel."

She did not sit.

Behind the linen cupboard door, three feet from her shoulder, my brother was holding his breath.

I had put him there an hour before, with the door cracked open the width of a hand.

"I have a deal for you," I said.

Her mouth tightened.

"You've been getting worse for a week. Headaches, and the shaking in your hands. You're cold in the evenings."

"I'm perfectly well."

"You're wearing Pell's band, and you're dying slowly, and you've been told it's the price of a crown."

Her eyes went to my face, and I saw her understand what I was saying.

"I can take it off you," I said. "Right now. All of it you can bear."

I closed my hand around her wrist.

She flinched, and then her whole body softened.

I drew a little silver out of her blood and into my own, no more than a cup, and it hurt me to do it.

Sorrel gasped, and her knees gave way, and she caught the bedpost.

"Oh," she said. "Oh, Nev."

"Better?"

"Yes." Tears ran down her face, honest ones. "It's been so long since it was quiet."

I let go.

The cold came back into her face at once, and she swayed.

"Don't," she said. "Do it again."

"When you tell me why you signed."

She stared.

"I told you. The man in grey..."

"Not him. You." I kept my voice level. "I've been your twin for twenty-four years. Say it aloud, and I'll take the rest of it."

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