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“And Nia,” Tana says softly, “stay away until it ends. It’s not safe for you here.”

At the bottom of the stairs, I climb into the boat again and start rowing. Wrapped in fog, my three friends stand together, watching me until we can no longer see each other.

Tana’s right. It’s not safe for me here. I’ve lost the place that felt like home.

But what I truly hate is what I need to do next.

I crossinto Mordred’s pale stone castle, shivering as I climb the crumbling stairs. On the banquet table, flames burn in thecandelabras, and shadows dance over empty crystal glasses. Inside the ruins, my gaze roams over the strange beauty of this place—the wildflowers growing from the floor, the plates left abandoned for centuries. Moonlight pours through jagged castle windows and the ancient stone carvings.

An ache rakes at my heart. At this point, Mordred is a loose end I need to tie up. I know my friends will keep my secret, but what happens ifWrythelearns the truth?

He’s a liability.

If I kill Mordred, I smother the risk of his spy moths being discovered and connected to me. On top of that, with him out of the picture, I need no longer worry about what kind of revenge he might take when I don’t uphold my part of the bargain.

Mordred steps from the shadows draped in a fur-lined mantle. A lump rises in my throat.

Rings gleam from his fingers, and he’s wearing his sharply spiked crown. As his changeable eyes, sometimes blue and other times gold, land on me, he inhales deeply. “What happened? You smell like human blood.”

The Fey sense of smell misses nothing…which was an excellent reminder that I needed to get rid of the blood before I showed up in Perillos once more.

“Does your glamour magic work for scents?” I ask.

“Magic?” He raises an eyebrow. “Do people from California have something against washing?”

“I don’t have time.” I’m edgy and anxious after the recent battle with Tarquin and his friends. “I can’t have people in Auberon’s palace smell human blood on me.”

He cocks his head, and his crown slides down a little over his black hair. “Yes, I can do that. But first, tell me what happened.”

“Didn’t you follow me with your magic spy moth?”

“Only in the castle, daughter. Don’t you know that? My moth can’t see what happens beyond the walls.”

“I was attacked by Pendragons. The Iron Legion.”

“Did they use iron?” he asks sharply, eyes twinkling. “I have a way to heal that. Nimuë taught me a few years ago.”

“I’m a demi-Fey. I don’t have to worry about iron as much as you do.”

His nose wrinkles. “Yes. Right.” A slow, sharp smile curls his lips. “But didn’t I tell you? The Pendragons are your true enemy. With my help, we will kill them all, like I planned to do a few years ago.”

My eyebrows rise. “A few years ago?”

“With Queen Morgan.”

This man had no sense of time. “Right. Of course.”

“You can’t let the Pendragons live. I know you understand the need to crush your enemies.” He nods at my cloak. “Just as you’re wearing the blood of your enemies. Are they dead?”

“One of them. The rest escaped.”

“They will die later.” He steps over to me, frowning. “Your ears need work as well. They’re on the verge of looking deformed again.Human.”

“I guess you don’t get to practice your social skills much here on the island of ruins, do you?”

Frowning, he traces his fingertip over my ears, then brushes it over the collar of my cloak. His magic tingles over me. “That’s better. Now, you’ll soon be ready for my party. You must help me get the best mead for it, you know. The crowberry mead from Shalott.”

I swallow hard. “Of course.”