They gave us the night.
Temple law. A vessel gets one night to pray before being unmade. A courtesy before butchery.
We were locked in the Tower again, but not by Enforcers. By the Priest's Silencers - six eyeless white wolves sitting in a perfect circle around the Tower base, humming one endless note that made the air too thick to breathe. No one could get in. No one could get out. Even Thorne's sword, left stuck in our floor from Chapter 15, had gone silent.
Dawn was six hours away. At dawn, in the courtyard, the Priest would put his White Knife to my chest and try to cut Lyra out. If I was false, I'd die. If I was true... I still might die, because no Fifth had ever survived a full unmaking.
I sat in the middle of our nest, four marks dim. My wrist flame was barely an ember. My thro
