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I held up my dagger as my heart thundered against my ribs.

“It’s Toryn,” Niamh grabbed the horn of the nearest saddle and leapt up onto the horse in a single fluid movement. “The storm fae took him. I need to ride hard if I want to catch up to them.”

“Tookhim?” I gaped up at her, picturing the strong fae and his gentle smile. “How? Why?”

“I don’t have time to explain.” She pointed at the horse called Midnight. “Get on. We’ll meet the others by the village. Kal is beside himself, and trust me, you do not want to make him wait. When it comes to the ones he loves, he can be vicious.”

I swallowed hard. “Understood.”

Of course, that meant riding one of these things, and I’d been distinctly told that was a terrible idea. Niamh didn’t make any other suggestion, though, so I shoved my foot into the stirrup and hauled myself onto Midnight’s saddle. There was a silver streak in his mane. Other than that, it was impossible to tell the horses apart.

The hooves thundered against the ground as we charged toward the village. I clung on, my eyes half-closed as the branches whipped at my face. A sharp thorn made contact with my cheek, slicing a deep gash into my skin. I gritted my teeth against the pain, but I didn’t slow down.

When we exploded out into a clearing just before a tall wooden wall, I spotted the Mist King storming in a circle and shouting into the wind. Alastair stood with his fingers jammed into his hair, jaw muscles ticking. His eyes looked haunted, as if he’d just stared death in the face.

Maybe he had.

“Alastair!” Niamh shouted from atop her horse. “Come on! We still might have a chance of catching up to them.”

The Mist King whirled on his feet, his lip curled back in a menacing snarl. My stomach did a little flip. “They have a head start. You’ll never reach them in time, and they could kill both of you if you do. And you know I can’t go with you.”

The vow, I thought.

“Stop being so pessimistic,” I called out before Niamh could come up with a reply herself. “As long as there’s a chance, we have to try.”

The Mist King whipped his head toward me. I braced myself for that ever-present anger, but instead, I found surprise. “Youwant to go after him? They’ve headed back toward the Kingdom of Storms. Away from Itchen and Endir, where your family might be.”

A snake wrapped its way around my heart. Val and Mother were out there somewhere, and the last thing I wanted to do was go the wrong way. I needed to find them. I needed to make sure they were okay. They’d already been in the mists far too long. I worried that we didn’t have any time to waste.

But how could I let Toryn get carried away for slaughter or worse? That would make me no better than King Oberon.

“We can’t abandon him out there,” I said.

It wasn’t right.

The Mist King’s body shuddered as he let out an audible sigh. He and Alastair joined us on the horses, though the Mist King chose to sit behind me once again. I didn’t complain or try to shove him back. Right now was not the time for that. He looked distraught.

As we charged through the mists, turning back toward the looming mountain, I cast a glance over my shoulder, drinking in his face. His jaw was hard, his eyes flickering with a dark intensity. He looked like he was ready to rip the entire world apart. The Mist King careddeeplyfor his people. I’d never seen King Oberon worry about anything other than gaining power.

The Mist King had the look of a man who loved. A man who had already lost so much. A man whose soul had been shattered.

His eyes flicked down, and he caught me staring. Tensing, I shifted away, nibbling on my bottom lip as I gazed out at the vague shape of the mountain growing larger in the distance. I didn’t like him very much, but I did understand him. And I couldn’t help but wonder, what would I have done in his place, if I’d been pitted against Oberon all those years before?

I scowled. Well, for one, I wouldn’t have destroyed entire cities.

Some of it, I could understand. The fight against Oberon. The clash of powers. The determination to see the king dead. But I could never justify the rest.

Ash filled my mouth.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said in a low voice as the rough canter of the horse jolted my skull.

I shook my head. “Unlikely.”

“How does the monstrous, terrible, wicked Mist King have an actual heart?” he asked bitterly. “Surely he can’t care about anyone but himself.”

“Close. It’s hard to picture you as anything else when I can list off all the horrible things you’ve done to the world. Maybe you didn’t eat human flesh, but you did destroy cities in the war.”

“Then maybe this is the world paying me back for all my crimes.”