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Aaron’s eyebrows arched incredulously. He beckoned to her. Joan blinked, confused, and Aaron’s mouth lifted slightly. ‘Guess that cuff isn’t working anymore.’

‘We cut your anchor to it,’ Tom growled. ‘Smashed that little anchoring device.’

‘And took my travel tokens,’ Aaron said. ‘Yes, I know.’ He folded his arms.

‘Were you working directly with Eleanor?’ Joan asked.

Aaron gave her a look of mild contempt. ‘I’m not going to betray the Court by telling you anything about her.’

‘Answer the question,’ George said, and this time Joan felt the push of his power, like the heat of a lamp.

Aaron shook his head, but the movement was a little jerky, as if it had taken some effort to ignore George’s request.

‘Eleanor’s the one betraying the Court,’ Joan said, trying to appeal to Aaron’s loyalty. ‘She wants to change the timeline.’

‘Stop speaking of her like that,’ Aaron said tightly. ‘The timeline can’t be changed. And Eleanor would never move against the King.’

‘Do you honestly believe that?’ George said to Aaron. The question had the full backing of his power. Joan could almost feel it pressing on Aaron, and Aaron’s shoulders relaxed. Joan remembered how the Griffith power had felt herself—like she’d been in the presence of an old friend.

‘Course I believe it,’ Aaron said almost dreamily. ‘The Lady Eleanor wouldn’t turn against the King. The timeline can’t be changed.’ And then, almost at once, his eyes focused. He scowled.

He really did believe what he’d said. Joan released a breath, torn between disappointment and relief. If he didn’t know Eleanor’s plans, he wouldn’t be able to help them much. But it also meant that he wasn’t complicit. Joan had been so afraid that he was working with Eleanor directly to create that world; that he’d wanted that world to exist.

Jamie shot Joan a look. He doesn’t know anything, his expression said.

Joan bit her lip. ‘Eleanor left the library just before we were rescued. Do you know where she went? Did she talk about a place? A person? A plan?’

‘Where is she now?’ George said quietly.

‘I—’ Aaron grimaced. Joan’s stomach turned over as he fought the Griffith power. ‘I—I’m loyal to the Court.’

‘Olivers are only loyal to Olivers,’ Ruth muttered from the cot.

‘What would you know?’ Aaron managed. ‘Hunts aren’t loyal to anything!’

‘Where did Eleanor go?’ George said.

‘I—’ Aaron stopped. ‘I—’ His pressed his lips together. He took a shaky breath, clearly struggling not to answer. Sweat beaded on his brow. ‘Hah. Hmm. I’ve had the Griffith power used on me before,’ he gritted out. ‘Last time it felt stronger.’ He bared his teeth at George. ‘What are you—ten steps removed from a head of your family?’

George’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘Watch your tongue! My father is a Nightingale, just like your mother was. You talk about loyalty to the Court, but we both know there’s not a loyal bone inside you.’

Aaron’s head lifted. ‘I think the problem is that I can watch my tongue. Your power just isn’t strong enough to break me.’ He looked defiant. ‘Do you have a brother? An older sister? Maybe they can have a go at me.’

George’s eyes blazed. ‘Where’s Eleanor? Think aloud!’

‘Wait,’ Joan said as Aaron’s eyes softened. That was too intrusive to ask of anyone.

‘I—I—’ Aaron put a hand flat against the wall for support. His breath was coming faster than normal.

‘I said think aloud!’ George said.

‘I think I’m going to die here!’ Aaron blurted. He sounded real and vulnerable suddenly, all the bravado gone. ‘I don’t think anyone’s coming to help me! I don’t think even my own father would—’

‘Stop!’ Joan said, and she had the impression of movement from Nick—as if he’d been about to stop it too. Her heart was in her throat.

Aaron’s eyes focused on Joan, his mouth snapping shut like she’d broken the spell. Then he looked sick.

‘I know we’ll have to sift through his stream of consciousness,’ George said to Joan, ‘but—’