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“Twenty.Fifty!”

Ivain rose. Skye followed, relieved to be done.

“Sixty!”

Ivain didn’t slow. “Not even for a hundred. But I will pay double my usual fee if you can dig up any information about the royal riftway system in the underground libraries.”

The little hobgoblin was still shouting numbers as the door swung shut behind them.

Chapter 18

Skye knew magic. He knew how aether moved, how it resisted, how it felt when it transformed. Even when magic went wrong it followed rules, and the collar… Fucking hell, he’d just watched it break every one of them.

It didn’t drain magic like a shadow mage would, seeking out weakness and tearing seams open in the underlying enchantment. It just… existed. And everything around it unraveled.

“How the hell are we supposed to fight against something like that?” he asked, voice low, dread a sinking pit in his stomach.

Ivain looked up from where he’d been turning the amulet over in his hand. The mid-morning sun was bright, cutting against the chill as they walked the cobbled streets toward home.

“Exactly which ‘that’would you be referring to? I’m already fighting a siege and an undead uprising. You’re going to have to be more specific.”

Skye sidestepped a pile of torn banners and shattered glass someone had pushed to the curb, waiting to be swept away. “You saw what I saw back there. With the collar,” he said. “Our enemy has a way to completely nullify us. Our magic, our wards, our defenses—our very ability to exist and fight.”

Ivain arched an eyebrow. “I think you might be catastrophizing slightly.”

Skye barked a laugh. “Given what I saw that thing do to Kato, I think I’m catastrophizing just enough. The better question is why aren’t you?”

“Well, for one, we don’t know the scale to which this effect can be replicated,” Ivain pointed out. “And from whatwe’ve seen, it loses strength with distance—which means even if Aneirin does manage to weaponize it, we’ll see him coming.”

“Glad one of us is feeling hopeful,” Skye muttered.

Ivain chuckled under his breath. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to defend a city under siege? At my age?”

“And what age would that be exactly?” Skye asked, genuinely curious. No one knew exactly howoldthe old man was. “I mean, had they invented fire when you were born? Any hints?”

Ivain let a faint grin slip. “Cheeky.” And then didn’t answer. He went on, “What I mean to say is that this isn’t even the first time I’ve had to hunker down in that house. Why do you think we keep the basement stocked with two years of provisions? Why do you think I built that damn city wall even though it was so Shards-forsaken expensive?”

A moment of silence passed before Skye realized that Ivain was waiting for an answer.

“History repeats itself,” he said, reciting the familiar lesson.

Ivain rested a hand on his shoulder as they walked. “You’re young. Everything is still new. But trust me, we will get through this. So someone figured out how to enchant hyaline—so what? What I’m more interested in is who did it, how they did it, and whether I can turn it to our advantage. If at any point, I can’t find an answer,thenI’ll worry. But we’re not there yet.”

He squeezed Skye’s shoulder before letting go, steering them towards a little street cart where he exchanged a few coins for a bag of popped corn. No butter. It was in low supply.

Most of the shops in town had stayed open. Ivain handed out rations to ease the added strain, but he still encouraged commerce—tried to keep the city running as close to normal as possible. It put people at ease going about their day-to-day lives, and people at ease didn’t mutiny.

“Granted, I’m not always right,” Ivain admitted as they continued walking. “We could all be headed towards a cliff and just don’t know it yet.”

Skye’s lips thinned, any previous sense of reliefgone. “Why would you say that?”

Ivain chuckled and tossed a few pieces of popped corn into his mouth. “Consider it a clumsy attempt to approach an uncomfortable subject. Case in point”—his tone softened—“I told you it was going to be impossible to bring Taly home, but you did it anyway. And I have never been happier to be proven wrong.”

Skye’s throat felt tight. He gave a terse nod. It didn’t fix anything, but it settled something raw in his chest, that small amount of validation.

He cleared his throat. “Next time, maybe believe me before my bondmate starts projecting and bleeding out of her eyes.”

Ivain huffed. “I suppose I deserve that.”