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Caldon, Cresta, Tipp, Naari, Torell, Ashlyn, Eidran — their entire traveling party, minus Galdric, reunited for one final challenge.

Serafine had also ventured with them from Vallenia, as had Mirryn, with this being the Vallentis princess’s last stop on her journey out of Evalon. From here, they — and Cresta — would be heading north to Zadria, but for today, the two princesses were staying put while Kiva and her friends saw to their task.

It wouldn’t be a pleasant one, but it was something Kiva needed to do. Torell, too. Even Cresta and Tipp and Jaren and Naari — all of them for different reasons. Only Ashlyn, Caldon, and Eidran had come for moral support, their company grounding Kiva more than anything else.

“Are we doing this?” Caldon asked.

Kiva gathered her courage and nodded, looking to Ashlyn. Thegeneral returned the gesture, before waving her hand and summoning her magic.

Jaren had begun to learn the art of windfunneling from his cousin now that his powers were back, but she’d been practicing for longer, and the distance they had to travel today was something only she could manage. Her wind wrapped around them and lifted them into the air, sending them deeper into the mountains before finally delivering them to their destination.

Kiva stared up at the imposing iron gates and soulless limestone walls, noting that Zalindov Prison was no more welcoming now than it had ever been.

But she wasn’t there to be welcomed.

She was there to say goodbye.

Zuleeka had traveled separately to them, her sentence mandating that she be transferred by prison wagon, just like all new inmates. It had been Kiva’s idea for them to arrive at the same time, a thought spoken shyly to Jaren one night, as if fearing he would judge her for wanting to see her sister off. But he’d only kissed her softly and promised to make it happen.

As Kiva looked at the prison wagon halted in front of the gates, she wondered why she’d bothered. Zuleeka had refused to speak with Kiva every time she’d ventured down to the River Palace’s dungeons, turning her back and ignoring her. Torell had argued that it was better than how she treated him, with cursing and screaming, but Kiva wasn’t sure. Nor was she sure if Zuleeka’s behavior was because she considered them blood traitors, or because of the damage the death magic had caused her. But either way, it didn’t matter anymore, especially not now as the iron gates opened and Warden Rooke appeared from within them, a group of black-uniformed guards at his heels.

Kiva’s fingers tightened around Jaren’s. She could hear Cresta grinding her teeth, could see Caldon placing a comforting arm around Tipp’sshoulders. Kiva hadn’t wanted the young boy to come today, but he’d insisted. He was there for his own closure, he’d said, and Kiva hadn’t been able to deny him that.

“Your Majesties,” Warden Rooke said, stopping to bow when he was a few feet away, looking as if he’d swallowed a lemon. “I received your missive. Are you ready to complete the transfer?”

Jaren turned to Kiva. She released his hand and stepped forward with Torell, the two of them approaching the prison wagon and peering through the bars. Zuleeka sat in the corner, her honey-gold eyes slitted. She wasn’t ignoring Kiva now, wasn’t screaming at Torell. Instead, she said, her voice bitter, “Is this the part where you make me beg?”

Tor moved closer to Kiva until their shoulders were brushing, telling her he was there, that they were in this together.

She might be our sister, but actions have consequences, and one day soon she’s going to learn that.

He’d had said those words weeks ago.

Today they were coming true.

“No, Zulee,” Tor said quietly. “This is the part where we say goodbye.”

He looked at Kiva, but she and Zuleeka had already said their goodbyes — on the bridge between the River Palace. All that was left was for Kiva to hold her sister’s angry eyes as Tor signaled to the transfer guards, and then keep holding them as the prison wagon rolled forward through the iron gates...

And disappeared from sight.

A shaky breath left Kiva as she turned to her brother. “Are you all right?”

“No,” he answered. “Are you?”

“No,” she whispered.

But they would be — eventually.

Slowly, they walked back to where their friends were waiting. Rookeseemed impatient for them to leave, but also aware that he was in the company of rulers from two kingdoms, and etiquette demanded that he wait before being dismissed.

That wasn’t what happened, though.

Because when Kiva reached Jaren’s side, ready to tell Ashlyn that she and Tor were good to go, Jaren stepped forward and handed a sealed letter to Rooke.

The Warden squinted at it before tearing it open and reading the contents, his dark face draining of color. “What is this?”

Kiva had never heard such a tone from him before — like he wasafraid.