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Hope feels foreign, and yet the fact that I’m currently talking to Demos, Asinia, and Rythos proves that I can maybe afford to let myself feel it more often.

My eyes meet Asinia’s, and she jerks her head. I shrug off Calysian’s arm and he gives me an indulgent look, leaning close to murmur in my ear. “Enjoy yourwoman talkwith your friend. Be sure to tell her just how much I satisfy you in bed.”

I know he’s trying to pull me from the memories that are clawing at me even now. “I’ll be sure to tell her the only thing god-like about you is your ego,” I hiss, and he smirks at me.

I follow Asinia toward the river, both of us quiet until we reach the shore. The water crashes against the rocks, thundering in my ears.

“I’m so glad we found you,” she murmurs, sitting on a large, flat rock. Idly, she reaches for a twig, twirling it between her fingers. “Madinia…Demos wants us to travel with you to the next grimoire.”

My stomach churns. “Because he thinks Calysian will need to die, and he doesn’t think I can kill him.”

Asinia winces, dropping her gaze to the twig and snapping it in two. “Do you really think you’d be able to be objective?”

I open my mouth to argue, but there’s nothing I can say. “I didn’t expect this.”

She gives me a look filled with so much sympathy, I have to glance away. “None of us ever do. Prisca certainly wasn’t expecting Lorian, and you know how I felt about Demos.”

My lips twitch. I’ve never truly connected with Demos, and I know he’s never fully trusted me. And yet he still left his kingdom when I disappeared. He still joined the search.

A flap of wings, and I glance up, expecting to see Eamonn. Instead, a pigeon lands on Asinia’s shoulder, and she gives the bird a stroke, gently plucking the note tied to its leg.

I’m immediately filled with unwelcome memories of a hundred pigeons sent back and forth during the war.

“We already sent word to Prisca that you’re alive. Now we’ll be able to keep in touch,” Asinia says. “Say hello.”

With a sigh, I reach out and stroke the pigeon’s tiny head.

“Thank you,” I murmur when she’s finished scrawling her reply. “For finding me.”

Asinia gives me an impatient look. “Do you know what your problem is?”

I heave a sigh, and her eyes narrow. “You grew up in that castle where you saw the worst in people. And still, despite all your attempts, you remained mostly good. You saved our lives time and time again, and yet you believed we wouldn’t do the same for you. That hurts, Madinia. And it would kill something in Prisca if she ever learned of it.”

“Three years, Asinia. Three years of Kyldare assuring me that I was completely alone. That no one was coming.” And still, I can see her point. I sigh, glancing at the pigeon. “Don’t tell Prisca.”

“I won’t. If you promise me something. When all this is done, you visit. And you stay awhile.”

I close my eyes. When all of this is done, Calysian will be gone, and Kyldare and Vicana will be dead. What will I have left after that?

“Fine.”

“Demos and I disagree,” she mutters, throwing the broken remnants of her twig into the river and sending the pigeon away with her reply. When her eyes meet mine, they’re dark and sad. “I believe you can kill Calysian if you don’t make it to the grimoire before he does. Out of all of us, you’re the best at doing the hard things. The things that need to be done. Oh, you suffer for it. And this would kill the little remaining softness you have. But you could do it.”

My eyes burn, and I sit down next to Asinia, staring blindly at the water.

She shifts closer, taking my hand. “You’re going to try to convince him not to take the grimoire. To choose you instead.”

“And I’m going to fail.” The certainty is heavy in my gut, the knowledge inescapable. “He’s spent centuries wandering this world, Asinia, with no knowledge or memories of his past. How could he give up his chance to become whole?”

“There’s another option.”

I stare at her, my mind racing. “What do you—” It hits me. “Rythos.”

“You’ve seen his power. You know what he can do.”

Yes, I’ve seen it. And I’ve seen Rythos trembling and vomiting in the aftermath.

His power is terrible and frightening, and the thought of him using it on Calysian makes my palms burn.