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Rodriguez heard me. “The herb you’ve been studying for your project?”

I nodded slowly. “Emberfern was mixed with mirthleaf and given to riders of Inferni. If it worked on riders, specifically Inferni ones, what if it could work on Blake?” I chewed my bottom lip. “I’ve been analyzing it, and it’s volatile when handled, yes, but powerful. I think there’s more to it than we know.”

“Blake’s not a dragon rider, Florence. We don’t know what he is—or even if there’s anything left of him in there,” Rodriguez pointed out.

I knew he was right. Still, I turned to Lysander. “If I could talk to Professor Allenvale about this, she might have some insight. She’s in House Orphos. Could we get to her somehow?” I felt sure she’d tell me if this was a terrible idea or not.”

Lysander glanced at Medra, then at Sankara. “I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“What do you mean?” I demanded, glancing around the worktable. “Where is she?”

Sankara’s massive shoulders sagged. “Child, we found her in the refectory. Viktor fed her to an infected guard.”

I covered my mouth with my hands, but a sob slipped out. “No. No. Not Allenvale.”

Professor Allenvale was sweet and kind and gentle. I remembered how delighted her face had been when she’d met Neville. I could feel Nyxaris in the back of my mind. Knew he was sensing my grief.

“I’m so sorry, Florence.” Medra slipped her arm around my waist, and I leaned against her.

“Why?” I choked. “Why her?”

Sankara glanced at Rodriguez. “Viktor found out that she was leading a … rebellion.”

“A rebellion?” I sputtered. “That’s ridiculous. What kind of rebellion?”

“It’s not so ridiculous, and she wasn’t the only one,” Rodriguez said quietly.

“House Orphos has been funding projects designed to bring about change at Bloodwing and in the rest of Sangratha,” Lysander announced. “By any means necessary. Unfortunately, we were just getting started with this one when …”

I bristled. “When Professor Allenvale was murdered?”

“She was the best of us,” Sankara murmured.“It’s a terrible, terrible loss, and we feel it, believe me, Miss Shen. She’s paid a terrible price.”

“Vasanti was a true believer,” Rodriguez said stubbornly. “She would never have backed down. It was a price she was ready to pay.”

“The work she began will continue, in all of us.” Lysander’s eyes were fiery.

The Orphos leader looked at me, as if silently asking me to join them. Saving Veilmar was one thing. But a rebellion? Against what—all highbloods? Against the inequality I’d grown up with all my life? That system was embedded throughout Sangratha. How could you even fight something like that?

“At least Blake put Vasanti out of her fucking misery,” Visha muttered, kicking at the leg of the table.

“What do you mean?” I whispered, my head whipping up to look at Medra. “Blake killed her?”

Medra’s face had gone white.

Sankara answered. “When the boy became the dragon, he burned her. And the Bloodguard feeding from her.”

I moaned as my mind pictured it all.

Lysander leaned forward. “It wasn’t cruelty, Florence. It was mercy. I truly believe that. He only wished to end her suffering.”

“Mercy,” I repeated. I looked at Medra. “Then, that proves it, doesn’t it? Something of Blake is in there. He’s not gone.”

“Right. But the next thing he did wasn’t so fucking merciful.” Visha’s face was hard. “He flew straight to Veilmar.”

Medra rubbed a hand over her eyes. “I think there’s a battle going on inside of him. He’s fighting for control. But right now …” she said as she shrugged helplessly “ … Vorago is winning.”

I looked at Rodriguez. “I won’t stop trying to get Blake back, but Nyxaris is waiting. I have to go. Will you help me gather what I need?”