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“There is still a good chance she is alive.” Averett’s voice was calm, holding enough command that it drew Farrendel’s focus away from the heat building inside his chest. Averett held his gaze. “You know as well as I do that if she and King Rharreth had been killed, the usurper would have paraded their bodies in the streets. He would make sure everyone knew they were dead. Both to solidify his throne and to revel in his victory. As far as we know, he hasn’t done that.”

Melantha was alive. Farrendel had to keep believing that.

When Essie gave a tug on his arm, he let her steer him back to the settee. He sank onto the cushions next to her, trying to gather his thoughts into something cold and logical. “When do we leave?”

Weylind shook his head, shoulders still hunched. “I am not asking anything of you, especially not after what Melantha did to you. Like I said, there is nothing you or anyone can do until we know more. Perhaps it would be wise to move warriors into position at the border, in case the usurper decides to resume the war. But, even then, I will not ask you to return to fighting. Not if you do not wish to do so.”

And there Weylind went, again treating him as if he was fragile.

Farrendel met Weylind’s gaze, feeling the ice of battle filling his veins. “She is our sister. I am not going to just sit here, waiting for word. I will help any way I can.”

“The royal train is taking on coal and water as we speak, and the tracks are being cleared for an afternoon departure back to Tarenhiel.” Averett set aside his mug and leaned his elbows on his knees. “We also have a regiment of soldiers mustering to reinforce the men we left stationed at the Tarenhieli-Kostarian border with your warriors. Julien and I intend to go to Tarenhiel with Weylind. If Kostaria attacks, it will break the treaty not only with Tarenhiel, but with Escarland as well.”

“Then we are all going.” Essie slipped her hands into Farrendel’s, squeezing his fingers. Her spine was sword-straight, her chin lifting as if daring Farrendel to question her need to go along.

But he knew all too well why he needed her at his side. She gave him the ability to use his magic at a strength he had never dared before. Still, he did not like the thought of bringing her into danger, not when they had no idea what they might be facing.

“Hopefully by the time we travel to Tarenhiel’s northern border, the scouts will have more news to share.” Now it was Julien glancing at Averett and sharing a knowing look. “We can make better plans on how to proceed then.”

Better plans, perhaps. But Farrendel already knew what he was going to do.

He did not care what Weylind said. He was going to find his sister. He had promised her that if she needed help, he would come.

Even if he had to tear Kostaria apart to do it.

SOMEONE was in theroom with her, and it was not Rharreth.

Melantha was not sure how she knew either of those things. The presence in the room did not so much as scuff a boot on stone or breathe loudly. Yet, she knew someone was there by the way her scalp prickled, a chill racing down her spine.

She lay still, trying to keep her breathing even. What should she do? Should she scream? She did not know where she was, besides that the mattress beneath her was soft and blankets over her were warm. Was anyone close enough to hear?

The dagger Rharreth had given her at their wedding was lost in their bedchamber at Khagniorth Stronghold. Nor did she have her hardwood staff. Not even Rharreth’s elven dagger.

That left her only one weapon. She called on her magic, keeping it just beneath the surface.

A hand pressed over her mouth. Her eyes flew open, and a shape loomed over her in the hazy darkness, the silhouette barely discernible as a person.