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Killian chuckled, a dimple appearing on his left cheek.

“Nothing other than to thank you. Fornotrevealing to my father that I had been in Cereliath,” he said, crossing his arms behind his back.

“I didn’t have much of a choice.” I glanced at my blades across the room.

Killian shrugged. “I guess not, but I’m grateful all the same.” He walked back toward the door and turned the knob.

“Is that all?” I asked in disbelief. I didn’t expect the prince to care at all, let alone come to thank me in person.

“For now,” he said, opening the door. “Until we meet again.”

THE ARSENAL ARRIVED THEnext morning. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d all been in the same room together. Years. A decade even. I hated our meetings almost as much as I hated being the Blade.

I left my chambers before the suns had risen and crossed the unfinished bridge. I leaped from post to post over the churning waters beneath, salty air filling my lungs. I felt stronger than the last time I touched the island’s shores. I was ready to take command the way I should have done thirty years before.

The Order was hardly safe territory with so many spies in one place, but I preferred it to the palace where the king and Damien could insist on overseeing our meeting. The small castle nestled across the channel from Koratha was the only place we could be assured of enough privacy for frank conversation.

Though hopefully nottoofrank. I couldn’t risk exposing myself to the Arsenal. They had too many connections to one another and the Crown. It would be impossible to know where anyone’s loyalties truly lay. But I could use them against the king either way. Tiny maneuvers that would cut at the base of the throne without notice, until it toppled completely.

I stalked up the long path to the Order, a cool breeze blowing through my hair as the suns rose. The clang of steel rang through the air. A small group of initiates was practicing their sword work on the grounds. I spotted the two initiates I had paired together during my last visit. They circled each other like lions, dodging the other’s strikes and laying blows of their own. Their steps formed a dance along the grass, leaving mirrored footprints on the morning dew. I smiled, knowing they were lost in the trance of it all. Nothing existed for them other than their partner and two blades. The rest of the world had faded away.

Hopefully, the world they found waiting for them would be different by the time they left the island. I rubbed Brenna’s name along my arm and continued up the steep path toward the white castle.

I did not speak to anyone when I entered. The halls were mostly empty so early in the day anyway. I walked up the large stone staircase and came face-to-face with the statue of the Fae warrior. I had passed her face thousands of times, her full mouth and the curls that circled around her head in a fierce mane. She wore no cloak, but the same leathers Syrra wore carved with the elements. The same patterns I had cut into my skin.

Her eyes were closed, and I couldn’t help wondering if she had silver eyes like mine. Eyes like the Light Fae who had abandoned me at the bottom of a chasm. I needed answers to those questions. I chewed my lip as I gazed at her face. Rheih’s words echoed in my mind. Had the Light Fae truly been hiding all this time?

If any lived, I would find them. And convince them to help us end the king.

A group of initiates passed me along the stairs, stirring me from my thoughts. Each bowed her head as she walked by before scurrying down the steps. I walked down the hall to the war room and waited for the other members of the Arsenal.

The large wooden table had no head. I took the seat with my back against the window, overlooking the rolling waves of the sea. I’d already spent too much of my life stuck here, staring out at that view. I would not force myself to do so for another moment.

Myrrah was already in the room when I arrived. She sat beside me; a large map spread out in front of her. Its edges splayed out over the circular table, tickling the wheels of her chair.

Myrrah had been injured on a mission when I was still an initiate. Though she would never walk again, it hadn’t stopped her from becoming the Shield. Elverath’s defenses had improved in the years after her injury, every weak point had been rectified, and every threat nullified.

At least until the Shadow.

And now me.

“Good morning, Mistress,” I greeted. Myrrah carried no last name of her own either. She held the same hatred for the nameKingsownas me.

“Long time, Keera,” she said with a raise of her gray brow. Her eyes trailed over me in disbelief, like she was seeing me back from the dead. In some way, I suppose she was. I’d spent years surrounding myself with nothing but ghosts. Now, I had chosen to fight for the living instead. Myrrah gave me an approving nod and returned to her maps. Small wooden pieces were placed across the continent, just like the pins Hildegard had marking the Shades in her office.

Myrrah pulled her long sleeves onto her lap. She didn’t wear the black hood or cloak. With her chair she was too distinguishable for a hood to be useful, and the cloak was an impediment when she moved about the castle. Instead, she wore a long black robe with her silver shield pinned against her chest.

“Was your journey from Volcar quick?” I asked to fill the time.

She nodded. “The seas were clear,” she said in a soft rasp. “We made it back just as the floods washed through.” She didn’t offer any more details than that. I knew better than to ask. Myrrah had always been a Halfling of few words.

Hildegard entered the room with a hooded figure behind her. Even with her hood drawn, I could tell from the breadth of her shoulders and the way she towered behind Hildegard that it was Mistress Moor. The silver arrow glinted in the sunlight as they took their seats. The Arrow lowered her hood, uncovering the gray braid down her back. Her eyes were black and framed by purple circles that hung low under her lashes; even her skin looked gray. I glanced at Hildegard, sitting next to Myrrah. They both looked just as tired.

I took a breath, rubbing my fingers under the table. The chaos was already beginning to wreak havoc on my comrades. A twinge of guilt pulled at my stomach, but I ignored it. I couldn’t let myself be distracted by short-term issues. The long-term goal was freedom for everyone.

Halflings.

Shades.