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Kato sighed. “Don’t go outside the fence line. It’s not much, but it does give us some protection from the forest beasts.”

Skye frowned at what almost seemed like genuine concern. “Why are you really here, Kato?”

Kato’s brows rose, but Skye didn’t back down. He hadn’t asked the question out of malice—just curiosity. His brother had always been a capricious, sometimes hateful presence in his life, and yet now he had somehow become his most ardent defender.Nowhe suddenly cared.

It didn’t make sense.

Kato was the first to look away, stuffing his hands in his coat pockets. “I already told you—you look so pathetic, I’d rather let a shade take a bite out of me than have to watch you piss and moan about your lost love for even a second longer than I have to.

“Now go,” he muttered with a jerk of his chin. “I’ll make something up to tell the others since we both know there’s no point warding an empty kitchen.”

With a final glance at the stable and their makeshift shelter, Skye gave his brother one last look before making his way towards the palace.

Skye followed the tug of that invisible thread inside the palace, walking from room to room, hallway to hallway. There was no smell of rot here; no sign of anything more dangerous than dust and cobwebs. And when the paintings began to repeat, and he realized that thread had just led him in a circle, he stopped, crouching in the middle of what used to be the throne room.

The black-and-white marble tile was cracked, and the long rows of windows that lined either side of the massive hall were coated with slithering, leafless stems so thick, they had become little more than a dense mat of foliage that gobbled up even the faintest trace of moonlight.

Atop a large dais, the throne loomed at the farthest end of the hall. Crystal roses were ensconced between coils of gold and silver, and every swirl, every petal, had been obscured by a thick layer of dust.

“Alright,” Skye said, shivering at the way the empty hall seemed to absorb the sound of his voice. He pulled a small flask from his pocket and frowned.

Aiden had collected several samples of Taly’s blood while she was recovering from the harpy, but the healer had used most of it up during his own search. There were only a few drops left now—barely enough to cast a single spell.

He would only get one shot at this.

Holding his breath, Skye tipped the vial and let those few precious dropsdrip, drip, driponto the tile. He bit the flesh between his forefinger and thumb and let his own blood mingle with hers.

Where and when,he thought, and that part still made him nervous. In his dream, Taly had said thatwhenhad become an issue, but this spellwas supposed to account for that. There were breaks in the veil between worlds all over Tempris. It would just be an issue of figuring out which one she had fallen through.

Skye began to pull at his aether, shaping the spell in a way that felt so unlike anything he had ever cast before. It twisted his magic, made his heart flutter. It feltwrong.

You’re just not used to casting this way,he tried telling himself even as the sweat began to bead on his brow. Even as his aether recoiled, seizing in his veins.Bloodcraft is an extension of your magic. Just another application. Youcancontrol it.

Slowly,slowly, he felt another presence curl through his thoughts, wrapping around his bones and tugging at that bond.

And he did his best not to panic as the pool of blood spreading across the floor began to undulate and roil, peeling away from the tile and rising into the air, glowing a faint red.

The light pulsed. And flickered. His own magic glimmered beneath the smooth, milky surface—violet pinpricks of light inside a sea of blood.

Cautiously, Skye plucked at the molten orb, shaping it with sure, quick motions. He kept an image in his mind, something that reminded him of the person he wanted to find.

When he was done, the tiny animal rolled over, shook itself, and then stared up at him with eyes that looked like little purple jewels.

A rabbit—perfectly formed. A miniature version of the animal Taly hadn’t been able to bring herself to kill. After he had brought the little beast home, Eliza and the rest of the kitchen staffhad adopted it, claiming for themselves that final link to Taly. The plump little monster now lived inside the townhouse kitchen with its own little bed and its own little collar and its own little bowl emblazoned with the name:Marshmallow.

Skye sighed. The things that he did for that woman… He really did have it bad.

The rabbit shook its head, throwing off a spray of blood that evaporated mid-air. The bell at its neck tinkled, and it twitched its nose, almost annoyed that it had been made to wait.

Clearing his throat, Skye said, with purpose, “Find your donor.” The words were carefully crafted, taken from a list of commands. Simulacrums could only follow a limited set of orders, and the slightest mistake, the smallest blip in pronunciation, could burn away the aether powering the spell.

Shards, he hoped he didn’t mess this up.

The little rabbit gave another shake of its head. It still floated mid-air, and as it began to hop away, it left tiny footprints that slowly faded and disappeared, washed away by some invisible force.

Something groaned from deep within the palace, and Skye paused, letting his hand drop to one of the pistols at his waist as he turned in a circle.

His nostrils flared as he scented the air, and he blinked, channeling a bit more aether and watching as the shadows turned just a little brighter.