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“Then why am I learning them again?”

Her hair was braided down her back, but a few strands stuck to her face. It happened every day, I’d realized. Little pieces of her fortress coming undone when she was focused. I wondered what she looked like when she came completely undone.

I pulled myself from those thoughts.

“It’s going to help you.” Mila brushed her hair aside with a smirk that grated on my confidence and tightened my chest.

“Is this funny to you?”

Her face fell. With an icy grace, she set her glass down. “You think I find what you’ve been through funny?” I shrugged. “Nothing about this is funny. This is war. You may not have been there the first time, but I was. I remember the cries of the dying on every battlefield I stepped on. I remember learning field healing to get them back to camp and holding them when I couldn’t fix their wounds. I remember—” She sucked in a breath, her eyes closing. Her hands gripped her wrists.

Should I do something? Soothe her somehow? Nothing I could do would be enough, because she was right—everything she’d been through was horrific. I may have my own scars, but I couldn’t imagine living with her memories.

Though, I supposed I’d find out before this was over if I could learn to keep myself on a battlefield.

“None of it is funny,” she said. “But forgive me for trying to ease the pain we’re both about to face.”

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled. “You’re right. Starting at the beginning is helping me.” And maybe being able to talk about what I’d been through so casually was, too.

Her shoulders dropped a bit at my apology. Not disappointment, I realized after a slight moment of panic. Relief.

“I’m starting with the basics of your training because I want you to relearn how to move with your new mentality. After everything you went through, Malakai, you’re a new person. You’re going to be a new fighter. I don’t want you to rely on the instincts honed by your former self.”

Angels, she was brilliant. How did she know so much about this?

“Okay,” I conceded, not reluctantly. “Let’s get back to footwork, then.”

And when I picked up a sparring sword and resumed my place, the smile she flashed me made the long days a little easier.

“They’re called the Blackfyre,” Barrett said about the journal entry he’d just read. Something about Lucidius in Engrossian Territory.

The prince had been lounging on the couch across from me in Lyria’s cabin, the journal propped open on his chest and Rebel curled on the floor beside him, when all of a sudden, he shot to his feet.

“It’s as pungent and powerful as the fire in your Spirit Volcano, but it was controlled by Bant when he lived.” Rebel bounced onto the couch, pressing his nose to Barrett’s shoulder for attention, feeding off that energy.

“And you think that is the swamp where the Engrossian emblem was found?” I asked.

“I think it’s most likely. There’s a wealth of legends surrounding them. I’ll have to go through them all again.” Barrett scratched between his wolf’s ears. The animal watched him with an eerie attentiveness. “I’ve studied Bant for years, and I can’t believe I haven’t thought of this, yet. Bant and Damien feuded in their mortal lives, and one source of contention was the Blackfyre and Bant’s connection to it.”

Warring Angel powers, and the two strongest at that. It was something to note.

“Why does it matter? The Engrossian emblem is already secured,” Cyren chimed from where they sat at the table besides a quiet Lyria.

We’d told the generals of the emblem search recently and had started combing through Lucidius’s journals in the main cabin during our spare time, getting their input. As she did most nights, Lyria mumbled to herself as she hunched over documents. A soft bubbling filled the air from where Esmond prepared tonics in the kitchen along with herbal scents and steam. I wasn’t sure why he tended to do so here instead of in the infirmary, but it had become a steady presence for us all.

“Because Lucidius visited these swamps on one of his gallivanting missions around the continent,” I explained.

“So it really does seem he was visiting Angel sites,” Barrett added. “Whether or not he knew of the emblems is still unclear, but the locations hold powerful magic regardless.”

“And Ophelia’s letter said the Seawatcher emblem was found in a site sacred to Gaveny,” I said.

“So you need to know the locations important to all Angels?” Cyren asked, tilting their head in thought. Mystlight gilded their braided coronet like an eerie halo. “There are numerous for each clan.”

There were. And that was only one problem.

It had taken the Seawatchers two months to narrow down where they thought the emblem was, and they’d only begun to focus on locations because Gaveny was an adventurous spirit. But with the locations of Bant’s emblem possibly being this Blackfyre—a sacred site according to Barrett’s expansive knowledge on the Angel—we were starting to refocus our interpretation of Lucidius’s journals.

“There are endless possibilities, and we need to figure them out before my mother does,” Barrett confirmed. His voice was heavy with exhaustion.