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At least, not up here. Down on the ground, the rain smothered the fire, just as intended, and the Crows and fairies got the upper hand over the Flames. A small victory—and a temporary one.

Not two minutes after the battle was dying down, Jeseida got Myron into her power. Now, he’s kneeling beside Herinor and Royad on the wagon, a guard behind each of them, a blade at their throats. Threemore Flames stand by, plus Jeseida. How he got there, I didn’t see. I had to circle back, or I’d have exposed myself, but the arrow protruding from his chest might have something to do with it. I can feel the uncomfortable sensation of something scratching at the edge of my heart through the bond, and the panic raging in my chest is nothing compared to what I felt when the arrow nearly got my wing.

I should have known the Flame Matrone would be here. When I saw her with Ephegos at Erina’s court, I knew they were up to something but had no idea what. After learning everything about the development of the drug and how the Flames and traitor Crows worked together to test it, I know there is no way Jeseida will leave something this important unattended. She’ll personally make sure it’s delivered to the right place and the right people.

I can see from up here that this wasn’t all a trap. The two burned-out wagons have the remains of glass vials sitting in stacks on the charred wood. That must have been enough to supply the army gathering in the northwest of the Plithian Plains to coat their armor, arrows, and blades with it. It was pure coincidence Royad and Herinor attacked the first wagon. They could have ended up in one of the other wagons and taken a bath in the magic-sedating substance instead. Perhaps this was the better fate.

Tori and Clio are standing with Silas, ready to step in but carefully waiting for an opening while Jeseida keeps talking.

I can’t hear her from up here, but I’m sure whatever she’s saying can’t be good.

If only I could get a little closerand?—

As I beat my wings to bring myself above the wagon, a tug at the base of my right wing rears me around, and I need to bank and circle back once more.

Whatever that was, it’s not normal. Not once since I’ve first shifted have I felt anything similar to it.

“Tori.”I open my mind, calling for the fairy general. He stands closer and might be able to relay to me what’s going on so my heart doesn’t need to give out at the sight of Jeseida leaning over Myron. I want to rip her throat out.

“Stay where you are, Ayna. Don’t come down.”His voice is soft in my mind, near inaudible, but I’m certain I heard him.

“What’s going on?”

“They got Myron, Herinor, and Royad with the drug. I can’t talk right now. Just trust that I have a plan.”Like a curtain falling into place, the connection is gone, and I’m on my own again.

I don’t want to stay where I am, but Tori is the most experienced general I know. Plus, he’s Myron’s friend. He won’t leave anything to fate.

So, I circle higher where the Flames won’t spot me if they don’t actively scan the skies. My heart is frantically beating as Jeseida straightens and Myron shakes his head, reaching for the arrow.

No!

If he pulls it out, he’ll bleed to death. His healing magic won’t work. But he knows that.

The panic I felt before turns into pure, unadulterated terror.

My instincts take over, and I’m flying toward him.

“Stay the fuck away, Ayna,”Tori warns, spotting me from the corner of his eye as he turns his head to the left. To where Tata reappears. But at her side, it’s not Kaira carrying the expression of someone ready to tear the world to shreds but the Fairy King himself, clothed in battle black, a crown of silver and gold upon his head, and a single longsword in his hand.

Myron

Recienne comes out of nowhere.I only see him because Tori’s gaze darts to the side where Tata pops up with the Fairy King in tow. Someone curses behind me, and I pull back my hand from the arrow I was going to shove into my heart. Jeseida unsheathes her sword, an expression of horror on her face as she takes in the face of the male ruling the lands she wants to make her own, and readies it to drive into Royad’s stomach.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Recienne warns.

It’s the only warning she gets. The next moment, a dark wind rushes along the platform, pluckingthe blade from her hand and ramming it into the guard behind my cousin. The male doesn’t even get a chance to scream as he goes down.

Royad uses the opportunity to spin on his knees. With two efficient kicks, he manages to shove my guard off me while Herinor doesn’t move. The sword at his throat is already biting into his flesh, and one wrong breath will drive it so deep it could be his end.

Recienne stalks closer, site-hopping onto the wagon, and flicks his fingers.

The sword at Herinor’s throat splinters, pieces crumbling over the male’s neck. I want to get up and help, but someone bumps into my back, and I stumble forward. The arrow slides deeper. High above, a familiar caw echoes through the sky, the sound filling my veins with ice.

Turn around, Ayna!

Whether or not she feels what I want her to do is irrelevant when the taste of blood fills my mouth and every breath becomes hard labor.

In front of the wagon, Tori and Clio are fighting side by side, facing one Flame guard together.