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Lyn nodded with a regretful plea in her eyes.

‘Especially if the Mother herself seems determined to put you in the public eye,’ Tared said grimly. ‘Hiding you would only make it seem like we agree with her.’

I wished that didn’t sound so gods-damned reasonable. ‘But—’

‘The unpleasant truth is we’re fighting an uphill battle,’ Agenor said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ‘It’s hard to turn people into warriors after they’ve been ground down for over a century – for which I have myself to blame, I suppose – and it’s even harder when they all know the odds aren’t in our favour. They needsomethingupon which to base their hope, and we don’t have much to offer them except the pleasant surprise of a powerful unbound mage.’

‘We have a couple of powerful fae lords,’ I muttered, hearing the weakness the moment the words poured over my lips.

‘Traitors make for poor symbols to rally behind.’ Tared scoffed sourly. ‘Especially traitors who were still burning children alive last year.’

‘But—’

‘Em.’ He sucked in a breath. ‘I’m not going to pretend this is fun. We all know it isn’t. Hiding below the earth for a century wasn’t fun either, if you want to know. Slowly going extinct at the edges of the empire hasn’t been fun for anyone in the world above. Creon apparently wasn’t enjoying himself either, dicing nymph queens into bite-sized pieces. Is visiting a few villages and not idolising any fae assassins in public too much of a sacrifice to ask for?’

Oh, fuck.

I parted my lips, but the words wouldn’t come. At the other side of the table, Lyn looked close to tears – but she didn’t disagree, and I knew she mostly wished he’d found a kinder way to put it.

Agenor was visibly wondering how I hadn't broken Tared’s nose yet. Someone really should have told my poor father about the many advantages of honesty and directness.

‘It’s not that I don’t get that,’ I said and wished my voice hadn’t come out so choked. There was no use in pleading. Weeks of work wouldn’t mean much to them – not after centuries of worse. ‘But I do think we should get rid of those bindings, and I’d hate for the public opinion to push us into choices that may make us lose the war in the end.’

Tared muttered a curse. ‘You never heard me say we shouldn’t get rid of the bindings.’

‘But then …’

‘There might be ways to make it possible,’ Lyn said, fiddling with her curls as she pulled her knees to her chest. Her high, stiff-backed chair dwarfed her little figure. ‘If you wouldn’t mind pretending it wasn’t your idea, Em …’

I pulled a face. ‘More attention is the last thing I need. We can blame you.’

‘I figured I would be a sensible candidate,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘We could tell the world I stumbled upon the matter and that Tared and I decided to go after it. Nobody will be suspicious about us undertaking some new reckless mission.’

Tared chuckled, but it didn’t sound quite convinced.

‘And then we tell the Council we need you because you’re an unbound mage, we need Creon and Naxi because they’re demons, and we want Beyla there because she’s a wanderer and she might quietly poison Tared if we deny her the opportunity to see the continent.’ She spread her arms, like a little magician whose charming assistant has once again stepped out of a box alive. ‘That won’t alarm anyone, will it?’

‘It will take time, though,’ Agenor said with a glance at Oleander, who was leisurely exploring the nooks and crannies of the room. ‘Achlys and Melinoë aren’t going to wait forever. Keeping those ships around the Golden Court is an expensive endeavour – we might have a month before they attack in all earnestness, but it won’t be any longer, and it might be as little as a week.’

Lyn shrugged. ‘We’ll have to make it a short trip, then. Ten days? If we haven’t found anything by that time, we’ll have more urgent things to worry about.’

Ten days. I felt myself go light-headed. An entire damn continent, more land than I’d ever seen in my life – and we were supposed to find any gods in hiding withinten days?

‘I suppose that would work,’ Tared admitted with obvious aversion, ‘but …’

‘But?’ Lyn said brusquely.

He swore under his breath. ‘You really want to do this?’

‘Well, yes, unless you tell me what’strulybothering you.’ She tilted her head at him, amber eyes sparkling with both concern and impatience. ‘You’re dithering. Why?’

‘Do you …’ He glanced at Agenor, then groaned and swung his legs from the windowsill, turning to face her fully. ‘Do you really think it’s a good idea for me to let my life depend on Creon for ten full days in plague land, Lyn?’

‘He wouldn’tkillyou,’ I said sharply. ‘He’s had more than enough opportunity to do so, if he’d been planning to—’

‘I’m not saying he’s actively planning to kill me,’ Tared cut in. ‘But if he’s the only thing between me and plague magic, how easy would it be for him to just … slip?’

‘Tared …’ Lyn started.