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“You want to know what I think?” her sister continued. She didn’t wait for Kiva to answer. “I think your magic is angry that you locked it away for so long, and these uncontrolled bursts are its way of demanding your attention. I think you need to listen to it, you need touseit.”

Kiva leaned forward and hissed, “I’m sleeping three doors away from Jaren Vallentis. I can’tlisten to it.I need it tostop.” As suddenly as it had arrived, the fight left her, and she slumped in her seat. “Please. If you know anything ...” Whispering, she repeated, “I need it to stop.”

Torell was looking at her with compassion, but Zuleeka still wore a calculating expression.

“There is one possibility,” she said slowly. “Someone who might be able to help.”

“Who?” Kiva croaked, willing to beg if needed.

Tor’s face cleared with understanding. He shook his head firmly at Zuleeka. “Absolutely not. Are you crazy?”

Inexplicably, an amused smile stretched across her mouth. “I’mnot.”

“Butsheis — and then some.” Tor shook his head again.

“If you have a better suggestion ...” Zuleeka goaded, arching an eyebrow.

Kiva interrupted to ask, “Does someone want to fill me in?”

Tor pinched the bridge of his nose, but he waved a hand at Zuleeka, indicating for her to go ahead. She did, offering two nonsensical words.

“Nanna Delora.”

Kiva blinked. “Nanna who?”

“Our grandmother,” Zuleeka explained. “Mama’s mother. Delora Corentine.”

Kiva froze, having had no idea they evenhadany living relatives, let alone on the Corentine side.

“She has magic.Hadmagic,” Zuleeka corrected. “If anyone knows how to repress it, it’s her.”

“She’s also a raving lunatic,” Torell stated. “Mother took us to see her once, right after we joined the rebels. She wanted to retrieve a family heirloom, but Nanna Delora took one look at us and screamed that we were interrupting her book club. She slammed the door in our faces, yelling that if she ever saw us again, she’d ride to Vallenia and turn us all in.”

Kiva stared at him for a long moment, then asked, “What family heirloom?”

“A dagger,” Zuleeka answered, frowning into her now-cold tea. “Torvin Corentine’s dagger, passed down from generation to generation. It was known far and wide as a symbol of his reign. When Mother decided to lead the rebels, she knew having that dagger would help solidify her position, offering proof of her —our— bloodline. But Delora refused to part with it.”

“She’s an apothecary,” Tor shared. “My guess is that she’s spitting on our ancestors by using that dagger as her work blade. You know how apothecaries are — they bond with their blades and never let them go. Some even ask to be buried with them.” He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts and said to Zuleeka, “This isn’t a good idea. You and I may not have magic, but there has to be someone else who can help.”

“Delora might be difficult, but she’s Kiva’s best bet,” Zuleeka argued.

“Where do I find her?”

Both Torell and Zuleeka turned at her question. Seeing the serious look on her face, Tor said, “We won’t be able to go with you. She made it very clear that we weren’t welcome to return.”

“I got that, what with her threatening you,” Kiva said. “But I don’t need a babysitter. Just directions.”

“She might not help you,” Tor warned. “She wanted nothing to do with —”

“Tor,please,” Kiva interrupted quietly. “I have to try.”

“She lives in a cottage at the edge of the Crewlling Swamplands, just beyond the Wildemeadow,” Zuleeka said, ignoring Tor’s disapproving look. “There’s a small settlement nearby called Blackwater Bog — you can find it on any map. Head there and ask the first person you see about Murkwood Cottage. They’ll point you straight to her.”

“Thank you,” Kiva said with deep gratitude.

“Kiva —”

“I’ll keep my expectations low,” she interrupted Tor. “But if there’s even achancethat she can help me, I have to go to her.”