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“Run?” I shouted. “Run where?”

I heard the chittering clicks as the monster skittered down the sand dune to chase after us.

“There!” Navin pointed. “Up ahead, the bend in the air, do you see it?”

It took me a second of panicked wide-eyed searching before I spotted it. But the sand dune in front of us had a dark gray lightning bolt seemingly cutting through it. At first it seemed like just another warped wave of heat rising up off the desert... but it was nighttime and there were no heat waves. I realized then that I’d seen a similar seam of warped air before when we went to collect Calla and Briar from that faery. Shit. It was a magical glamour.

We dashed toward that seam, the sound of the monster behind us growing louder with every step. It felt so close I thought at any second it would pierce me with its stinger, just as we leapt over the threshold.

When we crossed through the bent air, we whirled, watching as the monster screeched and hissed, stabbing at the wall of air like an impenetrable wall of steel.

Navin’s chest rose and fell in heavy gasps. “It won’t be able to cross the glamour. We’re safe here.”

I turned and looked to a giant sandstone building shaped like a heptagon. It had fortified walls with archways and parapets dotting every corner. Beautiful intricately painted clay tiles covered the seven archways.

“What is this place?” I whispered, awed by the monumental size of the building.

“This was Yasva’s dying wish,” Navin said.

Dying wishes were powerful magic. It was Calla’s dying wish that had saved her kingdom, and in doing so, her life. Galen den’ Mora itself was a dying wish. So many of the greatest monuments and magics of all time were created through the power of a dying wish.

I glanced at Navin. “I’ve never heard of Yasva.”

“Nor should you,” a voice called from the archway.

There, leaning against the wall, was a tall, broad man with a thick Olmderian accent. His dark coils were cropped short to hishead and his large eyes were a bright hazel. The white and gold of his tunic caught the sparkle of moonlight along with his golden buttons and the capped epaulets on his shoulders. His attire was part military, part regal, and more Gods-like than any painting I’d ever seen. He stood stock-still, his chin lifted, a confidence that bordered on arrogance crossing his face as he looked me over, wearing only the shirt of the man next to me.

His eyes slid to Navin. “You’re looking well, Navin Mourad.”

“Rasil,” Navin said carefully. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I... I had to bring her here.”

Rasil’s eyes narrowed as he toyed with a thin metal tube hanging from his neck. “Did you now?”

“Please,” Navin implored. “Just let me explain.”

“Youdareto bring a Wolf to our doorstep.” Rasil’s voice remained steady, pleasant even, but his eyes were tinged with menace.

“Please just let me explain—”

“What is your name?” Rasil cut in, turning his gaze to me as I shifted under his scrutiny.

I straightened my shoulders, trying to not be cowed by the power of this person before me. “Sadie Rauxtide,” I gritted out.

Rasil clasped his hands behind his back as he slowly descended the marble steps. The sand around his feet seemed to ripple as he pursed his lips and considered me. “Rauxtide.” He tossed the word around in his mouth. “A Silver Wolf then? The worst sort you could bring here.”

I blinked at him and then looked at Navin. “What is this? What is happening?”

“Oh!” Rasil let out a delighted laugh and looked to the stars blinking to life above us. “You haven’t told her?”

“There was no time. Rasil, please, just let me talk to her,” Navin said, but stood transfixed as Rasil wandered across the sand to us and offered out his hand to me.

Before I could yank my hand away, he lifted the thin metal tube to his lips and blew. A piercing shrill note rang out and mymind snapped in two, my knees buckling like cutting a puppet’s strings. I heard Navin shout my name before I hit the ground.

The stranger towered over me as my eyes rolled back. “I am Rasil Anweaver.” His hand remained holding mine as he stared down at me. My vision spotted as I desperately tried to remain conscious. That ringing sound now pounded in my head and pulled me under. “Head Guardian of the Songkeepers.” His grip tightened even further until the point of pain.

“And Navin’s husband.”

Calla