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Jonn’s health. The letter from my mother.
    I found Ivy in the bedroom when I opened the door. She sat on the bed, running her fingers over the edge of the quilt absentmindedly. I recognized it as my mother’s Frost quilt, a piece cunningly woven as a map that depicted key places in our land, including Iceliss and other ancient ruins.
    “I spoke to Jonn,” she said, without turning around.
    I let the door shut behind me. I drifted to the side of the bed but didn’t sit.
    “And?”
    She lowered her head. Her fingers continued to stroke the quilt determinedly, as if the fabric were in need of soothing.
    “He said you told him he was dying.”
    I sighed. I wouldn’t deny it.
    Ivy’s face creased with anger. “He would hardly speak to me. He stared at the wall and mumbled answers. How could you upset him at a time like this?”
    “Upset him? I told him the truth. He needed to know.”
    Ivy snorted. “Don’t try to make your motives out to be so selfless and moral. You were angry with him.”
    “Aren’t you? He did this to himself! He infected himself on purpose, Ivy, and now he’s dying! He’s leaving us, just like...” Like everyone else always did. But I didn’t say that. It was too painful.
    “He infected himself?”
    “Yes! He tricked me into bringing the Sickness back in a box, and he made himself sick to try to cure his crooked leg and his seizures. And now he’s dying.”
    My sister was silent for a long time. “He has lost all hope, Lia. I think maybe you know what that feels like.”
    I shook my head. “I’ve never done what he’s done. I can’t simply accept what he did and move on without feeling angry.”
    “Not everyone is you,” she said quietly. “We don’t all have your strength, your stamina.” The words were an accusation, and they left me feeling tired and alone.
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been harsh. I...” I couldn’t continue the sentence, so I stopped.
    Ivy reached out one hand and squeezed my fingers. There was an eloquence to her silence. Slowly, like falling asleep, I leaned my head on her shoulder. She cried, the tears dripping onto my neck, and I sat motionless and absorbed her grief as I stared at the bureau and thought about the letter inside it.
    When should I tell her what I’d discovered?
    Should I tell her?
    At the moment, introducing more questions into my family’s life was the last thing I wanted to do.
    Instead of reaching for the drawer, I put both arms around Ivy. Hesitantly, I patted her back, and she gripped me with both hands and sobbed.
    In the end, I didn’t say anything about the letter. I didn’t say anything at all.
     
     

FIVE
     
     
    ADAM AND I sat before a flickering fire burning in the grate of the Mayor’s parlor. Darkness swathed the house, and all the other rooms were quiet. Everyone else slept. I sat cross-legged on the ground in the middle of the rug, just close enough to the fire to feel the warmth on my face. Adam faced me, his back to the wall and his hands on his knees. He was a picture of patience, like a predator waiting in the forest for its prey. His eyes tracked my nervous hand movements, and he didn’t speak as I poured out my worries and objections about his mission to Aeralis and my duties as I remained behind.
    “The villagers are restless and angry. They’re hearing rumors about the Sickness. They’re uncertain about the Wanderers. It seems unwise for most of the agents to leave at this time. I...I just don’t know if I trust the Trio’s judgment in this,” I finished.
    Adam’s expression was unreadable. “You are not required to continue serving as a Thorns operative now that the Frost has been liberated,” he said. “The resulting new government—what system you have in place now—is friendly to our cause, and we have no need for secrecy here. We can work as allies with the Frost dwellers. You may be freed from your oath, if you wish.”
    You may be freed from your oath .
    Was that what he