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We carried the dead back into the city. The mortals did not deserve to be left out in the mists where any number of creatures might devour them. Their fear of me had driven them into danger, and I would not punish their souls for that. If not for them, then for Tessa.

Nothing could console her. Her grief had hit her so hard that she couldn’t even speak. So while the rest of the Mist Guard took care of the bodies, I led her back through the city streets, to the castle, and into my chambers. Someone would need to break the news to her sister, and Val, but I wouldn’t leave her alone when she was like this.

She stared through me, unseeing, her teeth chattering. I set her on the bed and moved to the hearth, where I quickly stoked the fire back to life. When I returned to her side, I pressed my palm against her cheek. Her skin was cold and clammy. Lifeless.

“All right, love. I’m here,” I murmured as gently as I could. Kneeling before her, I unlaced her boots and tucked them beneath my bed. I carefully unattached the golden chains that looped over her shoulders and slid the gown from her body. She shook like a leaf.

Her fingers still gripped the hilt of the dagger. Carefully, I unwound each one. I wouldn’t force her to let go if she did not want to, but a part of me worried she might snap if someone barged into the room. And someone might. We had eight dead humans and several angry fae from the incident at the ball. Tension crackled through Endir with the threat of further violence.

Tessa released the dagger. I carried it over to my cupboard and then rummaged around for a pair of loose trousers and a warm knit tunic. After I dressed her in those, I pulled some thick socks over her ice-cold feet and then led her to a chair by the hearth.

She stared numbly into the flames.

“I know how you feel,” I said. “After my mother vanished, I went in search of her. But deep down, I knew she was gone. For months, I was inconsolable, and I threw myself into preparations for the war. It was the only thing I could do. The only way I could numb the pain.”

Tessa blinked.

“I didn’t want to talk about it with anyone. So I fought. I killed. I raged across these lands.” I let out a heavy sigh, regret thick in my heart. “If you need to rage against something, you can rage against me. I could have better protected your mother. I could have spent more time with the mortals of Teine, showing them I would not harm them.”

She turned to me then with glassy eyes. “I don’t want to rage against you. I want to rage againsthim.”

I nodded. “You and me both, love.”

“Then we’ll find him, and we’ll do it together.”

Tears spilled from her eyes, and she turned back to gaze into the flames. I wouldn’t push her to speak any more tonight. If there was one thing I knew about grief, it was that it needed time. And so I sat with her in silence, watching the fire dance.

* * *

Eventually, Tessa slept. I carried her to the bed and tucked her beneath the heavy quilt, wishing the peaceful expression on her face could carry into her waking moments.

Someone rapped on my door. I crossed the room and opened it to find Toryn with Nellie. Her face was streaked with tears. An even heavier sadness settled in my bones.

“I need to see my sister,” she whispered.

I moved aside to show her Tessa’s sleeping form. Brushing away her tears, she padded over to the bed and climbed in without another word. When she wrapped her arm around her sister’s shoulders, I stepped out into the corridor to give them some privacy.

“What a night,” Toryn said grimly.

“Where’s Val? Has anyone told her?”

An odd expression crossed Toryn’s face. “Niamh is looking after her.”

“Niamh?” I arched a brow.

“Apparently.”

“And what about the others? Are they done bringing in the bodies?”

Sighing, Toryn ran a hand down his scarred face. “They’re inside the guardhouse. What in moon’s name are we going to do, Kal?”

“We’ll give them a proper funeral.” I’d been thinking over this all night. While Tessa mourned her mother the only way she knew how, I had to consider the options for moving forward. I didn’t have any choice but to plan. Endir was one of the few cities left in the fae world that had survived the war. So many people depended on the safety of these walls. I couldn’t risk that tenuous peace imploding.

“At the waterfalls?” Toryn asked.

“It will demonstrate to the mortals that we have respect for their lives,” I said. “We can show them we mean them no harm, that we will protect them if need be.”

“You know, after this, none of them will want to leave. A lot of them already don’t. This will cement it. The mists are dangerous. Endir is not.”