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Eventually, after five minutes that felt like five hours, she soared back towards me and landed on the smooth granite floor, looking aggravated.

‘Let’s find the next room, then,’ I whispered.

She allowed me to carry her to the small doorway I’d seen, then took off again. Thank the gods for those small, nimble wings, I thought as I saw her dart through the narrow aisles without brushing a single crystal ball. Some burly eagle would never have been able to help me here.

I’d barely finished the thought before Alyra swirled around in mid-air, racing back to me as fast as she’d left. Jumbled, excited thoughts rushed at me through our bond – fae male, waiting near the window, looking out. He hadn't seen her, focused on the view of his comrades outside.

I had to bite my tongue not to heave a sigh of relief. If he was still looking, the others must still be there. They hadn't yet left for the Crimson Court.

‘Guide me,’ I mouthed.

We snuck through the blue-lit darkness together, spheres of glass twinkling at me from every corner of my sight, reflecting like sapphires in the smooth granite of the floor. One of these had to contain Creon’s voice. One contained Agenor’s memories of that fated day after Korok’s death; one contained the faces and voices of Tared’s parents. But there were so many of them, and they had no name plates, no labels except for the numbers scratched into their shelves – how were we ever going to find everyone’s individual bindings in this treasury of magic?

Trouble for later. Right now, we needed our fae male with the key.

As we navigated the rows of open shelves, I caught glimpses of a large window in the south wall – looking out over the garden and the meeting of the others. We were approaching the fae male from wingside, Alyra’s thoughts informed me, and yet I was holding my breath as I finally tiptoed around those last corners, fully expecting to hear the catastrophic clattering of breaking glass swell to a roar around me.

No such thing happened.

The fae was sitting with his large wings towards us, blue light reflecting in his short dark hair and his snowy pale hands. A thick rope had been attached to the upper corner of the cabinet to his right, the other end clenched between his fingers – in position to yank down this first set of shelves at the smallest sign of trouble.

And with it …

Oh, gods.

One cabinet going down would take the next one with it, and the next one, and the next one, reducing at least half of the room to shards and lost magic before he even made his second move. Even if I had been willing to sacrifice a single cabinet of bindings to the surprise effect, I would inevitably destroy thousands and thousands of other crystal spheres with it.

It took all I had to keep my breath shallow and quiet. No room for mistakes, then. I’d have to kill him on my first try, before he even had the chance to yank that gods-damned rope …

But I couldn’t hit him in the throat or heart from where I stood, and the back of his neck would not be nearly fast enough. He’d still have time to pull before he died. He’d still have time to ruin everything.

Cold sweat pearled in the small of my back. What other options did I have? Use red magic to cut the rope? But he’d be warned and retaliate, and the gods knew how many shelves may be wiped empty in the fight that would follow. Aim for the hand holding that rope? But if he had any presence of mind – and I’d have to work on the assumption my opponent was actually capable here – he’d pull with his other hand before I had time to target that one, too, and then we were back at the same catastrophe.

And meanwhile, Thysandra was killing my friends.

Fuck. I had tothink, and think fast – but my mind had gone blank, my thoughts filled with the vision of glass ball after glass ball diving towards the granite floor. Perhaps I had to take the risk, but what if I was overlooking something? What if the solution was actually dead simple, and everyone would be furious with me for missing it, and—

You’re not a pawn in this game.

My spine straightened itself.

The storm subsided, thoughts settling down like rowdy children called to order. Hell, Iwasn’ta pawn. I was saving the day here, damn it. I was the one standing in the heart of the Cobalt Court, behind a shield no other mortal or immortal could have crossed, and …

And I had my magic.

My godsworn magic.

At once, everything was clear. A risk, yes, but safe choices rarely led to victory – and what alternatives did I have, when every familiar option likely ended with shattering crystal and magic lost?

Freezing him in his spot would have worked, but I had no softness left, and no time to go look for it. So instead, I quietly sank to my knees and firmly planted my left fingertips against the granite floor.Smoothness for mind.Stretching out my right hand at the tense fae male twenty feet away from me, I focused my thoughts on the most soothing, calming phrases I could think of, anything peaceful that welled up in me:All is well. The others are safe. I no longer need to keep watch. I am surrounded by friends.

I can let go.

Magic burst from my fingertips, gleaming like silk and steel as it enveloped the fae male before me. He didn’t so much as twitch. This power was invisible to him, like all divine magic to those who couldn’t wield it. He raised no alarm as I drew more and more smoothness from the endless expanse of the floor and sang that silent lullaby to him through the power that connected us.

I’m safe. We’re all safe. I can step away from the bindings now.

His hand tensed around the rope. His shoulders stiffened, preparing for physical effort.