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He retrieves something from his pocket, a silver whistle that glints like a blade. It catches in the light, blinding me. As he blows into it, the whistle emits an otherworldly keening sound.

“What is that?” My voice sounds far away.

“It summons Tarasque.”

Panic claws at my chest. “The dragon used to kill traitors.” I breathe. “You wouldn’t.”

He doesn’t answer.

Wouldhe?

“Is it true, then?” I whisper. “Are you the Butcher of Brittany, like they said all along? Maybe you built your orphanage, and maybe you even cared, but you wanted to kill all those people in Scotland. My friend Viviane is dead because of you.”

His dark expression sends a cold shiver licking up my spine. “You were there? At that battle?”

“I was.” My voice sharpens. “So, now you know who I am. Who areyou,Talan?”

He raises an eyebrow. “Scotland.My, my, Nia. You really know your way through a portal, don’t you? Popping in and out. Stealing maps. Freeing prisoners. Reporting to the Pendragons. Killing anyone who gets in your way. Ruining my plans. Planning my ruin.”

“I wanted to stop you from destroying the British military. Of course, I did.”

I feel my heart splintering, cracking open so sharply, it’s unbearable. But it was always going to end like this, wasn’t it? We had a perfect, golden moment, something close to love. A bright, burning ember that drifted through the dark. Then gone, snuffed out. Ash drifting on the wind.

A lump rises in my throat. “Well, nothing lasts forever, I guess.” The words come out sounding flat and empty.

He stares at me like I’m a book he can’t read. “Not when it’s fake, no.”

I feel this moment cracking me down the center.

“You came here to kill me.” His low voice rings with disbelief. “You told the Pendragons exactly where I’d be attacking. You broke into my castle on a mission to slaughter the Butcher of Brittany. The Dream Stalker. You’ve been lying for months.”

“I was doing my job.”

He scrubs a hand over his jaw, his eyes glinting with hurt and anger. “Who was that man I buried by Nimuë?”

I swallow hard. Somehow, this is the worst part. I shake my head. “Not my father.” I don’t say anything else.

I’m not willing to give him any more information about the resistance. He’d have to torture it out of me. My mind flicks to the hemlock I’ve been carrying with me, but it’s back in my cloak, left behind in the hunting lodge. Too late for that way out.

Talan takes a step closer. “You came here to kill a monster. But how many have you killed, Nia? You’re not such an innocent little thing, are you? Six bodies today alone.Veryimpressive. The little farm girl has claws.”

My breath quickens with panic.Howdoes this end? A slit throat?

I’m not going to wait around to find out.

My fingers curl into fists. Slowly, my power starts to churn inside me—not as much as the energy that flowed in me before, but maybe enough to surprise him. Maybe enough to get away to freedom.

“You’re right. I’m not as innocent as I look. You spend your life pretending to be evil, and I spend mine pretending to be nice. We both lie. It’s what we do. I give people what they want, you do the opposite. And you? You wanted to be hated. You craved it, and I was the only one to give it to you. It made you feel something, didn’t it? So, that’s what I gave you. Insults.”

“And all you are is a mirror to people’s desires.” His voice cuts like broken glass. “Empty inside.”

I smile at him. Maybe that used to be true. Not anymore.

“You said that I hunger for chaos and adventure, and that I put out fires, but sometimes I want to watch the world burn. You were right about that, too. Most people think I’m a harmless little sweetheart. They have no idea what I’m capable of. But you came close. You almost saw me for what I am. And you know what? I’m done playing all my roles. It’s freeing, Talan, to be yourself. Let it all burn down. You should try it someday.”

At that, I summon the power of the three. It crashes into me, violent and erratic.

I lunge for him.