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Navin was humming a tune to himself as he drove the wagon. It was easier to hear with the open grate below me. The sound echoed up into the cavernous space. He hummed a sad, slow song and I recognized the tune: “Sa Sortienna”—above the golden trees. It was an Olmderian miner’s song for their loves back home. My fingers twitched with the urge to go to the front of the wagon and hold Navin’s hand again, even though I knew I shouldn’t want to. He’d raised his weapons against me to defend his Rook brother. I’d never forgive him for choosing one of Sawyn’s lackeys over me—brother or no. Whatever his reasons were, they’d never be good enough, and yet... we were rolling over the final resting place of his father and his humming haunted me.

I decided sitting there listening to him hum was a cruel form of torture. I stood up, yanked my trousers the rest of the way up, and climbed the ladder back into the wagon.

I found Maez in the kitchen, searching every drawer and pantry as if mapping out the place. She opened one drawer and lifted a sprig of dried lavender, opened another and lifted up a handful of loose buttons.

“This place feels like a fever dream,” she murmured, shakingher head as she craned her neck up to the stovepipe that rose out through the canvas ceiling.

I dropped into one of the kitchen chairs. “It certainly has a magic all its own.”

Maez opened the oven and let out a surprised grunt as she pulled out a now-cool tray of sourdough bread. How many days had that loaf been in there as Navin raced to the capital for Calla’s aid?

“Perfect.” Maez lay the tray straight on the table between us. “Breakfast. Now I thought I saw... ah!” She grabbed a ceramic bowl of butter and a single knife and dropped into the chair across from me.

I stared up at the ribbons hanging above the kitchen table, little embroidered badges hanging down the strands.

“Ora hand stitched these for different people who traveled with Galen den’ Mora,” I said, trailing my fingers across a badge with a raindrop on it.

“Did you ever get one?”

I pinched one of the far ribbons between two fingers, turning the strand for Maez to inspect. “I’ll give you two guesses which is mine.”

Maez grunted and pointed to the crescent moon and knife. “That’s so cool! I want one.”

“We’ve got to save Ora first.”

Tearing off a chunk of the bread, Maez said, “I didn’t really get much time with them after Sawyn’s demise before they rode off again, but being here in this place, I feel like I know them a lot better now.” She buttered a piece of bread and passed it to me. “I understand now why Calla was so adamant to get them back now, too.”

“It feels like we’re heading in the wrong direction.” I took a bite of bread and let out a low hum. It was far more delicious than the loaves at the bakery. “We should be going to Damrienn to rescue Ora, not Valta to rub elbows with the Onyx Wolf King.”

A little twang went through me as I thought about Ora—about how this bread was probably meant for them and Navin, about their clothing still drying on the hook, about their life just snatched from them and for what? A prisoner of war? A symbol of the burgeoning Golden Court?

“Having King Luo’s support will help Ora,” Maez said. “And all of us.”

“Ora is one of the best people I know,” I replied. “Though I don’t know a lot of good people.”

“Mostly Wolf ruffians, eh?” Maez chuckled. “So what does Nero want with a traveling musician? Navin made it sound like these were capital soldiers who took Ora, not just some random pack members?” She crooked a finger at her eye. “The one with the missing eye... you think that’s—”

“My uncle,” I said with a definitive nod. “I’ll give you one guess who the other two are.”

“Shit,” Maez muttered, shuddering at the thought of the three of them. “Why would Nero send them on a foot soldier’s errand?”

“That is the question I’ve been asking myself, too,” I said through a mouthful of bread.

Just hearing our former king’s name on Maez’s lips sent a chill down my spine. I’d lived my whole life in fear of disobeying him. He was not one to listen to reason and his will was law. He destroyed many families in ways I was ashamed to admit I was only beginning to understand as unjust... and in some cases complicit.

“A political pawn maybe?” Maez mused. “It’s no secret that Ora was close with the Golden Court Queen... but was this Nero’s declaration of war between the Silver and Gold Wolves? Kidnapping a human? I’d thought he’d do something... bigger.”

“No idea.”

“If there is a war...” Maez cocked her head and gazed up at the badges swinging above us. “Do you think King Luo will actually put his army into the fight with us?”

“He must. That is our task now,” I replied. “We need the Onyx Wolves. We can’t take no for an answer.”

“If Calla can get the Ice Wolves in line, then maybe Luo will feel forced to side with the bigger army.”

I swallowed. “It would certainly help. But the same goes for getting the Ice Wolves to join. We have to go in as if he’s the most important ally to us. Because we’re going to need everyone, every single possible friend, if we have any hope of beating the Silver Wolves in a war.”

“That thought used to fill me with pride.” Maez’s voice tinged with shame as she clasped her hands together, voicing the same thoughts I’d been ruminating over for weeks. “To be a part of the mighty Silver Wolf army.”