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“I haven’t been able to access my power since we took down the barrier.” I fought to keep my voice steady. But I had to steel myself against the bitter disappointment in Rekja’s eyes.

Around us, Rekja’s people were murmuring, expressions serious. Lorian stepped forward, taking my hand. “If we have twenty hours, we need to use them to get as many people out of the city as possible,” he said. “Without creating panic or alerting Regner’s general to our plans.”

And so, as the sun rose higher in the sky, we traveled along the beautiful Sorlithian streets I had admired. The streets that would soon run red with blood. Each of us carried a seal from Rekja, ensuring his people would believe us when we told them what was happening.

The evacuation needed to be quiet. Contained.

Just as the rebels had built tunnels beneath Lesdryn, some clever ancestor of Rekja’s had done the same beneath Sorlithia. Perhaps he had known Regner. Known it was only a matter of time before the madman to the north turned on the Gromalian people.

Entire families took whatever they could carry and scurried into the tunnels. This wasn’t something any of them had ever planned for, and yet they moved quickly. Perhaps more people would escape than I’d first imagined.

Still, I searched again and again and again for my power.

Please, I begged the gods.Please.

Where my power had one radiated deep within me, now there was nothing.

Some of the Sorlithians who were too weak to move were carried. But others couldn’t be moved. They would stay with the human healers who refused to leave their patients’ sides, defying orders from anyone who attempted to make them leave.

My eyes burned, the muscles in my chest clenching. Tibris would have stayed too.

Our own healer was on one of Daharak’s ships— hopefully still sailing south.

Finally, exhausted, we returned to the castle to prepare our next move.

Lorian kissed my forehead. “I want you to try to get some rest.”

I slitted my eyes at him.

He snarled back at me, clearly exhausted himself. “You’re almost asleep on your feet.”

I dropped my gaze. “My power still hasn’t returned, Lorian. If all I can do is help people flee, then…”

His hand caught my chin, and he waited until I met his eyes. They softened. “Don’t you dare believe for one second that your worth as a queen—or even as a person— depends on your ability to access that power.”

A lump had formed in my throat. I heard him, but in this moment, when my power could save so many lives… It was difficult to believe I hadn’t failed everyone who would die today.

“There are still people who were moving too slowly to evacuate,” I murmured.

“It’s too late,” Rekja said behind us. “Tymedes has become impatient. Our time is up.”

LORIAN

Regner couldn’t have known that Prisca would come here. And yet, his general was likely rubbing his hands together at the thought of killing the hybrid heir and taking her body back to his king like a cat displaying its kill.

With a thought, I dissolved my human glamour and returned to my fae form. My teeth and ears lengthened, my body grew a little stronger, my senses heightened.

None of us was wearing armor.

Not even Prisca. She was too petite. Unlike in the hybrid or fae kingdoms, which recognized that women could make the most vicious fighters of all, most soldiers in Gromalia and Eprotha were men. The breastplates were too large, the gauntlets would prevent her from using her hands, and the chain mail would slow her down.

For Marth, Galon, Rythos, and me, the armor was too small. Even in our human forms, it would restrict our movements.

Prisca met my gaze, raising one eyebrow. Even if I could yank her out of here, she would never be the first to leave. I would have to knock her unconscious.

“Don’t even think about it,” she muttered. “I may nothave my power, but I have my brain, and I can still swing a sword.”

She could. She was fast—even faster with her daggers than her sword. No one had trained harder than my wildcat, even while traveling.