Cal calls on his fire, I on my lighting, and Farley raises her gun in the direction of the gray man. None of these things seem to frighten him. Instead, he takes a step forward, and his crimson gaze finds me.

“Mare Barrow,” he sighs, as if my name brings him great pain. His eyes water. “I feel like I already know you.”

None of us move, transfixed by the sight of him. I tell myself it’s his eyes, or his long gray hair. His appearance is peculiar, even to us. But that’s not what keeps me rooted to the spot. Something else has put me on edge, an instinct I don’t understand. Though this man looks bent with age, unable to throw a punch let alone brawl with Cal, I can’t help but fear him.

“Who are you?” My quavering voice echoes over the empty village.

The gray man tips his head, staring at each of us in turn. With every passing second, his face falls, until I think he might start crying. “The newbloods of Pitarus are dead. The king waits for you there.” Before Cal can open his mouth, to ask what we’re all thinking, the gray man holds up a hand. “I know because I have seen it, Tiberias. Just like I saw you coming.”

“What do you mean, saw?” Farley growls, taking quick steps toward him. Her gun is still tight in her hand, ready to be used. “Tell us!”

“Such a temper, Diana,” he chides, sidestepping her with surprisingly quick feet. She blinks, perplexed, and lunges, trying to grab him. Again, he dodges.

“Farley, stop!” I surprise even myself with the order. She sneers at me but obeys, circling around so that she’s behind the strange man. “What’s your name, sir?”

His smile is just as gray as his hair. “That is of no consequence. My name isn’t on your list. I come from beyond your kingdom’s borders.”

Before I get a chance to ask him how he knows about Julian’s list, Farley charges with all her speed, sprinting at the man’s back. Though she makes no sound, though he can’t see her, he easily steps out of her path. She falls into the ash face-first, cursing, but wastes no time getting to her feet. Now she has her gun aimed at his heart. “You going to dodge this?” she snarls, letting a bullet click into place.

“I won’t have to,” he replies with a wry smile. “Will I, Miss Barrow?”

Of course. “Farley, leave him be. He’s another newblood.”

“You’re . . . you’re an eye,” Cal breathes, taking a few shuffling steps through the ashen street. “You can see the future.”

The man scoffs, waving a hand. “An eye sees only what they look for. Their sight is narrower than a blade of grass.” Again, he fixes us with his sad, scarlet stare.

“But I see everything.”

TWENTY-ONE

Only when we enter the burned-out husk of the Rosen tavern does the gray man speak again, introducing himself as we take seats around a charred table. His name is shockingly simple. Jon. And his presence is the most unsettling thing I’ve ever felt. Every time he looks at me, with eyes the color of blood, I get the sense that he can see right through my skin, to the twisted thing I used to call a heart. But I keep my thoughts to myself, if only to allow Farley more room to air her grievances. She alternates between grumbling and shouting, arguing that we can’t trust this strange man who appeared out of the ash. Once or twice, Shade has to calm her down, putting his hands on her arms to still her. Jon sits through it all with a tight smile, staring down her oppositions, only speaking when she finally shuts her mouth.

“The four of you are well known to me, so there’s no need for introductions,” he says, holding up a hand in Shade’s direction. My brother makes a strangled kind of noise, drawing back a little. “I found you because I knew where you would be. It was nothing to coordinate my journey with yours,” Jon adds, turning his gaze on Cal. His face whitens in a flush, but Jon doesn’t bother to watch. Instead, he looks to me, and his smile softens a bit. He’ll be a good addition, albeit a creepy one. “I have no intention of joining you at the Notch, Miss Barrow.”

Then it’s my turn to swallow my tongue. Before I can recover enough to ask, he answers for me again, and it feels like a cold stab to the belly. “No, I cannot read your thoughts, but I do see what is to come. For instance, what you say next. I figure I’d save us some time.”

“Efficient,” Farley grinds out. She’s the only one of us not transfixed by this man. “Why don’t you just tell us what you came to say and be done with it? Better yet, just tell us what’s going to happen.”

“Your instincts serve you well, Diana,” he replies, bowing his gray head. “Your friends, the shifter and the flyer, will return soon. They met resistance at the Pitarus Security Center, and will need medical attention. Nothing Diana cannot accomplish on your jet.”

Shade moves to stand from his chair, but Jon waves him back down. “Easy, you have some time yet. The king has no intention to pursue.”

“Why not?” Farley raises an eyebrow.

The crimson eyes meet mine, waiting for me to answer. “Gareth can fly, something no known Silver can do. Maven won’t want anyone to see that, even his sworn soldiers.” Cal nods next to me, knowing his brother as much—or as little—as I do. “He told the kingdom newbloods didn’t exist, and he intends to keep it that way.”

“One of his many mistakes,” Jon muses, his voice dreamy and faraway. He probably is, looking into a future none of us can comprehend. “But you’ll find that out soon enough.”

I expect Farley to be the one to snarl at more riddles, but Shade beats her to it. He leans forward on his hands, so that he towers over Jon. “Did you come here to show off? Or just to waste our time?”

I can’t help but wonder the same thing.

The gray man doesn’t flinch, even in the face of my brother’s restrained anger. “Indeed I did, Shade. A few more miles and Maven’s eyes would see you coming. Or would you have liked to walk into his trap? I confess, I can see action, but not thought, and perhaps you wanted to be imprisoned and executed?” He looks around at us, his tone shockingly cheerful. One side of his mouth lifts, curving his lips into a half smile. “Pitarus would have ended in death, and even worse fates.”

Worse fates. Under the table, Cal’s hand closes over my own, as if he feels the tremble of dread coiling in my stomach. Without thought, I open my palm to him, letting his fingers find mine. What worse fates were planned for us, I don’t even want to ask. “Thank you, Jon.” My voice is thick with fear. “For saving us.”

“You saved nothing,” Cal says quickly, and his grip tightens. “Any decision could have changed what you saw. A misstep in the woods, the beating of a bird’s wings. I know how people like you see, and how wrong your predictions can become.”

Jon’s smile deepens, until it splits his face. That rankles Cal more than anything else, even more than his birth name. “I see farther and clearer than any of the Silver eyes you’ve ever met. But it will be your choice to hear what I must say. Although, you do come to believe me,” he adds, almost winking. “Sometime around your discovery of the jail. Julian Jacos is a friend, is he not?”

Now both our hands are shaking.