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If this was my best option, then stubborn Iwouldbe – through war and devastation, until my very last breath.

Chapter 29

The army camp wasin an uproar.

Even as we flew over it, it was clear that the news of the White City had spread between the tents: the serene peace of that morning had been cruelly disturbed, and the sound of sobs, desperate shouts, and demands for answers rose from every corner of the camp. From above, I spotted Delwin, gesturing reassuringly at a small group of yelling men. His own sister had stayed behind in the city, I recalled – how much longer would he be able to stand it, pretending it was all under control and would be solved soon?

Better not to wait for that moment.

Creon’s tense arms around me told me he was equally prepared to defend us against sudden human rebellion.

But in good wingless tradition, no one looked up to see us fly over, and our arrival at the command tent was witnessed only by the small crowd that had gathered around it, desperately waiting for news or strategies. I told them I didn't have any new information yet, then hurried towards the entrance of the tent – feeling like a coward as they hurled more and more questions after me, but unsure what else I could do before I had spoken to the others. At the very least, I could make sure to be out of the way before any of them could decide that more answers might just be worth a meeting with Creon’s knives.

The tent cloth must have been infused with magic. I didn’t hear so much as a whisper, even when I stood a single step away from the entrance, yet the moment I parted the strips of waxed linen, Agenor’s voiced washed over me. Sharp and impatient – the sound of my father pushed to the very edges of his self-restraint.

‘… severely outnumbered,’ he was just saying as I slipped in. ‘As heartless as it sounds, waiting and growing our forces before attacking—’

‘No one is going to join our forces after they hear we allowed the White City to be slaughtered to the last child,’ Rosalind cut in, her tone even more biting. ‘Not a single human will. You’d be abandoning the city for— Oh,Em!’

There was a relief in the sound of my name, an abrupt loosening of tension, that made me want to cower and crawl into her arms at the same time.

Every single one of them had to notice my greenish hair and the obvious evidence of red pulled from Creon’s shirt – and yet no one breathed a word about any of it. Lyn sent me a watery smile from the other side of the table. Tared managed to make his muttered greeting sound like I’d never been anywhere I wasn’t supposed to be. Finn, sitting hunched and purple-faced next to Rosalind, threw me a grateful look that suggested shehad not been prepared to be roped into a heated meeting of magical creatures.

Only Agenor gave a slight grimace on the edge of my sight, mouthing a silentthank youat Creon as he followed me into the tent.

I could forgive him for that, though.

‘Look,’ Lyn said to Rosalind as we sat down, as if we had never interrupted the discussion at all. I was strangely grateful for the pretence of normalcy. ‘I see your point – I really do. The last thing I want is to leave the city to its own devices. But I’ve tried to battle the Mother in a rush before, and that …’

She swallowed. The rest of her sentence hung in the air between us, bitter and smelling of rot and blood – the white battlefield of Sevrith, the thousands and thousands who’d found their deaths between those hills. A defeat that had doomed most of the magical world to slow extinction, that had forced her to spend her next hundred and thirty years hiding beneath the earth, praying for the impossible to happen …

Never again, her menacing silence said.I’d rather die.

I believed it, too.

‘And we don’t even know if Achlys and Melinoë will still be here tomorrow,’ Agenor added, voice low, jaw gritted so tight his strong face seemed all angles and lines. ‘If they have any sense left, they should be returning to the Crimson Court as soon as possible to wait for our response. And if we only get a single chance to attack, we shouldn’t exhaust ourselves trying to take back the city while they’re sitting safely on the other side of the archipelago.’

Rosalind scoffed. ‘Apparently she’s planning to stay for long enough to collect Em tomorrow.’

‘Can’t be sure about that,’ Lyn said, an edge of apology to her voice as she glanced from me to my mother. ‘She may feel nervous enough about Em to leave it to someone else to chainher up and ship her to the Crimson Court – I’m sure she’d have plenty of volunteers. Nor does she need to stay here to act on her threats, for that matter.’

Her threats.

To kill tens of thousands of harmless, defenceless people.

I understood every single one of their doubts, understood every single argument, and yet I refused to believe that their conclusions were true – that we should wait and give up on those lives, that we would serve the greater good by leaving the White City to die. But Rosalind was silent. Tared seemed to be chewing on his own thoughts. Finn, face clean but still distorted by injuries she must not have allowed the mages to heal, looked closer to tears than I’d ever seen her before.

I glanced to the side to meet Creon’s eyes –see, I wanted to say,see why I had to run and solve it all by myself?

But Creon wasn’t looking at me. Sprawled in his seat, wings draped loosely over the backrest with an air of casual invincibility, he’d narrowed his eyes at Finn – focus sharpening his features into an expression I knew all too well, that thrill of a predator finding spoor to follow. A look that promised either brilliance or danger. His eyes didn’t betray which of the options it might be, dark pools of ink reflecting nothing of the mind behind.

I dared to assume it wouldn’t be a suggestion to leave the city to die, though.

‘Creon?’

Now he did glance my way, a swift turn of his head. ‘I’m thinking about her throne.’

‘Her—Oh.’ I veered up straighter and whirled back to look at Finn, small and grubby by my mother’s side. ‘You said you were made to assist her with the transport, yes? Did you by any chance see that damned throne of hers anywhere, on the ship or near the wagons?’