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“We’re going with them, right?” I say to Ruskin.

He looks down at me and for a moment, I see the conflict in his face. He wants to keep me safe—as if such a thing is possible now. I’m gearing up for a fight when he just nods, and I feel a surge of love for him. He knows we should both be in this fight.

There’s a sigh over my shoulder.

“I suppose that means I’m along for the ride too,” says Destan.

I bite my lip. “Des, maybe you should stay here.”

He scoffs. “And have Halima haunt me for not looking out for you two? I don’t think so.”

“We need to get Lisinder’s permission first,” says Ruskin. “Like he said, this is his fight, regardless of why Evanthe did what she did.”

Lisinder looks unsurprised when we tell him we want to join them, but he doesn’t immediately agree, instead curling a clawed hand towards us and marching from the chamber.

“Come with me.”

We follow him to a room with a long table in the center, and shelves of maps and books along one side. It’s well-warded—I can sense the magic parting for us as we enter—and Lisinder catches my curious look.

“It’s a war room. It hasn’t been used since the Great Divide,” he grunts.

At the table he turns on us, raising a dark eyebrow.

“Your mother’s mind may be poisoned or twisted, Nephew, but she’s no fool. She knows me, and she knows I would never agree to her terms after she murdered my kin in front of me.” His voice grows rough on this last part, the loss of Pyromey weighing on us all. “We Unseelie cannot be intimidated like that. She must know that we’d go to battle before we dishonored ourselves by accepting the terms of a kin-killer. Is that her goal? What does she really want? Because it seems like it’s a war.”

“She really wants us,” I say miserably. “Before we left I put certain protections on the founding stone—she needs me alive to undo them, and as for Ruskin—” I glance at him, wondering if I guessed correctly about what he shared in his private conversation with Lisinder.

“She needs him to name her as heir because he is still technically High King,” Lisinder finishes.

“I told him that I have been the true ruler of the Seelie Court all these years,” Ruskin says, confirming my theory. He brushes his hand against my knuckles, and I think it’s an assurance, a message that he’s sure telling Lisinder was the right thing to do.

“It’s a level of secrecy and deception I can’t say I understand,” Lisinder says sternly. “But if it’s you she wants so badly, then she’s using this ploy to draw you out into the open, forcing an Unseelie retaliation that you will feel compelled to join. I am not your keeper. If you want so badly to get yourselves killed, that’s your affair. But I feel bound to point out that you’ll be playing into her hands by coming with us today.”

“We have to. It will be too dangerous for you otherwise,” I blurt out.

Lisinder scoffs, and I feel myself flush at the bluntness of my words.

“My warriors can handle themselves.”

“We mean no disrespect, Uncle, but we don’t know what my mother has up her sleeve,” says Ruskin.

“She’s far from the source of the iron curse she visited on the Seelie Court,” I explain. “But I don’t know if it’s far enough. It’s still possible she will be able to use that power in Cavalil. If she does, I’m the only one with the magic to combat it. You’ll need me,” I say. Lisinder may be intimidating, but facts are facts, and I feel brave enough to lay them out for him now.

He eyes me with interest, as if seeing me differently. “Very well. The armory will give you what you need, they have standard armor that will fit you both. But hurry. We will ride out as soon as we are ready, and we will not wait.”

The mountain is a flurry of activity as we collect our armor, stopping by our room to hastily pull on more appropriate riding clothes to wear underneath and fasten on our weapons. I ask questions as we dress, trying to distract myself from the fight ahead.

“What convinced you to finally tell him?” I say, buttoning up a pair of pants like those I wore in the bastet ring.

“You mean telling my uncle I’m High King?”

“Yes. I’ve been thinking we should be honest with the Unseelie for a while, but I didn’t know you felt the same.”

“Evanthe forced our hand, but I agree it was the right time. I could see that Lisinder wanted to oppose Evanthe, wanted to stay true to his promise to us, but was held back by the scars the war left on this court. He did not wish to be seen as provoking another Great Divide. Even if the Unseelie were to win, his reign would likely not survive it,” Ruskin says, fastening a set of greaves to his shins. “But if I could give him a reason why this wouldn’t be like last time, I suspected he’d take it. I told him that this might still end in violence, but that fighting her wouldn’t mean going to war with the Seelie Court.”

“Because Evanthe doesn’t lead the court, you do,” I finish, putting it together. “Hand me that breastplate, will you?”

He picks it up, then hesitates. His uncertainty is so rare I stand up straighter.