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Dressed in her Mindshaper tunic and leathers and maneuvering the rope between her skilled fingers, Santorina looked as much a warrior as any of us. She was, if not in the literal sense.

“You’re right,” I said, gripping her hand so she stilled. “We don’t know what waits, but everyone must be prepared.”

That seemed to remind Malakai of something else. “Brigiet was furious when Kakias crossed into their land.”

“Is she offering troops now?” Cypherion asked.

“Not to the camp, but she’s fortifying their borders. Slowing their harvest to do it.” A frown twisted Malakai’s lips. “I don’t like that they’re sacrificing time in the fields.”

“Me neither,” I agreed. This was the first I’d heard of it. “Once we’re out of here, we’ll discuss with Lyria and the generals and see what can be rearranged. Maybe we can direct some of our own troops that way.” Or to the Labyrinth. Spirits, we needed numbers everywhere.

“Yeah.” Malakai nodded, enthused. “Let’s see what Lyria thinks.” Again, his eyes flicked to Mila.

For a moment, Malakai seemed like he was becoming his old self again.

No, not his old self exactly. A hardened version of that person. One who had seen and experienced tragedies and injustices, but instead of the hopeless void he’d fallen into, he was working to right them.

Cypherion and Tolek exchanged a glance, having remained quiet for most of the conversation. The relief in their eyes said they shared my thoughts.

“Jezebel,” Malakai said. Tearing his eyes away from Mila, he found my sister with a hesitant glance. “Tell me more about this power.”

Jez had been keeping to herself since we sat down. I had yet to see her engage with Malakai. It was odd. Before he’d left, they’d been as close as siblings. My sister had always had her own relationships with my friends. She bickered uncontrollably with Tolek while sharing a respect for warrior training and traditions with Cyph.

With Malakai, though, she’d had someone to admire. She’d talked to him about things she was not comfortable talking to others about and loved him deeply.

When he left, she’d been hurt—more so when she found out he knew he wouldn’t return.

Now though, as he asked her about the power we’d told him little of, she visibly relaxed, something between them softening.

“I’ve been trying to figure out how it works myself.” The hum of our task and chatter of the other companions filled the cavern as we considered.

“Whatever power I have that communicates with spirits can pull threads,” Jezebel said. “I was able to separate the Mindshaper from his born spirit to reach it since he was so far gone. It’s almost like the release of death. Or it feels like it from my end of the manipulation. I don’t think I’m actually communicating with the dead; I need a spirit on the brink of freedom from life, not from a body.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t work on a healthy Mindshaper. Trev and I tried.”

“Do you think it’s an effect of your dormant Angelblood?” Tolek offered. Curiosity spun questions of Mindshaper magic through his active mind.

Cypherion shook his head, though. “Can’t be, can it? All Alabaths have to have Angelblood if these two do. None of them have been able to communicate with spirits.”

“That we know of,” Rina said, shrugging.

“I’m starting to wonder if perhaps it’s from elsewhere,” Jez admitted, looking at her hands.

“What do you mean?” I asked gently.

She was quiet for a moment. Then, she said, “Ricordan told you all of Thorn. Of how his life progressed and how his power ate away at him.” Her shining eyes lifted to mine, so raw and vulnerable. “What if that’s happening to me? His life became a tragedy. What if I’m the next installment?”

I set down my rope, crawling around Tolek to sit beside my sister. “What happened to Thorn was devastating, but his life was still great beyond his illness. I don’t think it sounds like the same thing as your powers, but even if something like that were beginning, it would not be the end of you, Jezzie. It would only be a new hurdle for us to understand.”

“Thorn’s life was tragic because of his isolation,” Tolek added. “Because no one was here to help understand what was happening to his mind, and as a result, he suffered. It is sad, yes, but that’s not you.”

Jezebel took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly, nodding. “I know you’re right. I think I’m just…defeated.” Her head tilted to the side. “That’s not something I’m used to.”

“I think we’re all adjusting to things we’ve never experienced before,” Cypherion said.

My hand went to my necklace on instinct. While this connection I’d grown with the Angels certainly applied to what he said, it was so much more than that.

Our world had been torn open at the seams, a tapestry unraveling the moment the Curse appeared on my arm. I had not known it then—Spirits, I still did not know what it all meant—but we were leaning into that discomfort and learning to navigate the challenges it brought.

Looking around at our group, I thought we all were. Whether it was acknowledging truths long buried or forging new paths, we were discovering and growing and conquering—and Angels, sometimes failing—together.