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A door shuts, and one set of steps march up the stairs. Nina peeks around to watch.

I wrap us in a soundproof shield. “We need to get that man.”

“We also need the King,” Rylan says. “There are four of us. Two of us can take Kirnon. Two can get this person.”

“I want the King,” Nina says. “He went up.”

“With me then.” Rylan and Nina continue up the stairs—gone before I can think it through.

“Come, Marcus. We’re shielded.” I slide a barrier under the door, just like I did on Rylan’s birthday. Then, it was to surprise him—fun and laughs. So much has changed between us since then, and now I use these tricks against true enemies who would see our family destroyed. Mother said the end of her betrothal to Kirnon was catastrophic, but this seems an extreme reaction.

I open the door slowly and step through, holding my breath. My brothers’ insistence on mastering swords doesn’t seem so ridiculous at the moment. Having a blade to hold before me would be a comfort. The empty sheath at my hip gives me a sense of longing—both that dagger and its true owner would give me some of the confidence I’d like to have right now. I’m glad Tomas isn’t here to face whatever dangers we might find, though.

The cabin is dusty and stale, but empty. A small window illuminates floating dust motes while leaving the space shrouded in shadows. There doesn’t appear to be any way out.

“How could he have left?” Marcus asks.

“I don’t know.”

He walks the perimeter of the room to see if there is anything we’ve missed.

A large desk is covered in dusty tomes. I open one, but the language is unfamiliar to me, the letters like nothing I’ve seen before.

“I suppose royals assume they can pop into any place they please.”

I gasp as my attention pops up to the man with the silky voice. Marcus stiffens on the opposite side of the room. This man appeared right between us. His long, black robe is simple, covering him from the neck down. Only papery hands with long fingers stick out from the wide sleeves. His face is as smooth as his voice, with eyes that appear to glow in the dim lighting.

“Who are you?” Marcus asks.

“My names are long forgotten.” His gaze shifts between us. “So much forgotten.” He seems to shake himself out of a reverie. “You may call me Aevus.”

“How did you do that?” I ask.

“What?”

“Appear out of nowhere.” Marcus sidesteps along the wall, keeping his distance from the man while trying to reunite with me.

“I did no such thing.” Aevus’ smile sends a chill up my spine. “Reality is an ever-fluctuating thing. I’d say I don’t have time to explain it, but I have all the time in the world. It fluctuates as well, you see.”

“Time…” The false investigators in Lambridge spoke of time pulling. “You were in Lambridge. You manipulated time there.”

“Yes, and Kirnon thinks he’s quite clever to know how to trace it.” So, it was Kirnon’s men looking for information there.

Marcus continues around the room, step by slow step. “He’s clever enough to keep you working for him.”

“I do not answer to any mortal. Our interests align currently, so we’ve formed a partnership of convenience.” Any mortal? As if he isn’t?

“How convenient,” I say, “to come across someone who also wants us destroyed.”

His pale eyes rake down me like I’m a dessert he can’t wait to devour. “You aren’t my goal, though my intentions could change. In the meantime, you make delightful bait.”

His words succeed in making me feel insignificant. “Are you after our mother? That would be Kirnon’s dirty work to a T.” No matter how much his gaze makes my skin crawl, I’d rather keep his focus on me. Numbers might be our only advantage. I wrap Marcus in a soundproof shield to better keep the attention off him.

“If I cared about your magic’s former home, I’d simply turn the Queen’s clock back.”

My face must betray my bewilderment, because his eyes glitter at the change in me. Her clock. The ticking of time has taken her magic and given it to us. If it went backwards… The idea that my magic could be taken from me leaves me feeling hollow. This isn’t about me, though. My own power can’t be my focus, as it clearly isn’t his. “What did you do in Lambridge to draw Kirnon’s attention? They were looking for multiple people—an old woman who was around when the boy disappeared, a man who visited the brothel—”

“It shouldn’t surprise me that my words aren’t the kind of distractions to draw your attention.” In a blink, he goes from halfway across the small room to our noses nearly touching. I gasp but steel myself to minimize my reaction. “What is it about you?” He raises his hand to brush my cheek, his fingertip a feather on my face before I swat him away.