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“I don’t understand, Vale. What do they want with your magic? And what was happening in that chamber when I found you and Kastroff?”

Cypherion’s name sent another pang of longing through me. I didn’t know what he’d said to Harlen in that chamber, but there was a waver of wariness through my old friend’s voice that convinced me he was trying to see my perspective, to see the walls of this manor for the cage they’d become.

And if I wanted to stand a chance of ensuring Cypherion was safe, I needed Harlen on my side.

I chose a truth that was solely mine—nothing to do with Cypherion’s friends—and shoved aside the lingering distrust.

“I have nine Fate ties, Harlen.”

He froze. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, like saying it too loud might summon the celestial beings themselves. “Nine?”

“Nine,” I confirmed. And I prayed to all of them I hadn’t just made a horrible mistake in revealing this.

I told him how the Lumin Temple council had found out I was powerful and stole me from my family. How I’d thought Titus was my savior, and how I only realized recently that he was far from it. How my readings had been malfunctioning—though I left out Ophelia’s Angelcurse—and that was why Cypherion and I were sent here.

Harlen asked many questions—he was always a curious little boy, now a studious grown man—and I answered them as best I could without exposing the Mystiques’ secrets.

And when I finished, we sat before the fire in silence for a while. Finally, Harlen asked, “How can I help?”

Determination hardened his expression, thawing a bit of my wariness. All he’d done—while it was unknowingly betraying me—had been to help me, after all.

And I did not have to trust him in order to work with him. If his goal was truly to help me, this was a mutually beneficial partnership.

“Cypherion,” I finally breathed, his name desperate as it left my mouth. “He got away from the archives, right?”

Harlen sheepishly said, “He’s in one of the guest chambers on the second floor.”

Of course he hadn’t left. He hadn’t left me.

I fought back the stinging that rose to my eyes at that understanding and pictured the layout of the manor, the vast halls and endless rooms he could be in. Some cold and empty, some lavishly furnished. I had an inkling which Titus would have given him.

“Hurt?” I asked.

Harlen swallowed. “Drugged.” The world nearly exploded around me, and I shot for the door. Harlen stopped me, grabbing my shoulders and looking in my eyes. “It’s leaving his system. He was just starting to wake when I came up here, but you can’t go to him, Vale. Think of how Titus would react knowing your first move when you woke was to seek out the Mystique?”

Not well, that was how. But— “I don’t give a star-damned fuck what Titus wants anymore, Harlen!”

“I know, I know,” he soothed. “But if you want Kastroff to live, we have to be smart.”

“To live?” I muttered.

“If everything you’ve told me about Titus using you is true, and he lied to me to recruit me so easily, I can guess what lengths he’ll go to keep you here.” Harlen’s words settled in my gut like stones sinking below a pond’s surface. “If he thinks Kastroff is a threat to that…”

He could order him to be tortured. Or worse.

I nodded, trying to stifle my panic and gripping my velvet cloak tighter around me. “Is he chained?”

“Just restrained with ropes so he couldn’t attempt anything when he woke.”

That was good. Ropes shouldn’t hurt him, and it would likely settle him a bit to know they hadn’t shackled him. Cypherion was strategic enough to know that had to be intentional.

“I need him to be okay, Harls,” I whispered, my lips trembling as I forced the words out. “Whatever happens, I need him to be okay. He saved me.”

Harlen pulled me in for a hug, and this time, I allowed the comfort. I pressed my hands against his chest and took deep breaths in time with his. When I stopped shaking, he mumbled against my head, “You truly care for him?”

“More than the Fates could have foreseen,” I admitted.

“That won’t go well.” There was an apology in his voice that resonated deep in my bones.