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And, surprisingly, Jalissa didn’t pull away. Her return hug was tentative, light. But she didn’t let go as both of them cried onto each other’s shoulders.

BY THE TIME Essie steppedfrom the train at the military outpost across the river from Linder Island, her face had been washed of tears, her eyes less puffy and red after multiple rounds of cool cloths pressed to them. Her emotions remained buried deep. This was not a time for tears but action.

She still wore the same dark green dress she’d been kidnapped in, complete with torn hems and singe marks. Let King Weylind and the other elves judge her less-than-perfect appearance if they wished. She didn’t care.

At least they would see what she’d been through. She hadn’t been a helpless, crying maiden while Farrendel took all the danger. She had fought for her escape even as Farrendel had. She’d only left him behind because the information she knew was too vital to risk.

To complete the ensemble, she strapped her rifle across her back. It didn’t exactly go with the dress, and King Weylind might be offended that she brought a weapon to this meeting.

But since Averett didn’t dare bring a weapon, she would. She would show the elves that Escarland was ready for war. Not against the elves but alongside them.

Jalissa joined her, tall and beautiful, her face smooth and composed.

Averett led the way from the train to the jetty where the steamboat waited, smoke already puffing from the smokestacks. Across the river, the elven boat also waited, gangplank lowered, as figures glided on board.

This was all so much like that meeting several months ago, yet Farrendel wouldn’t be there to greet them on Linder Island.

Essie raised her chin, clenching her jaw to stop her chin from trembling.

Averett, Julien, Edmund, Jalissa, her guard, and Essie boarded the steamboat. Essie leaned against the rail, needing the cooling, late summer air to wash over her as the steamboat pulled out into the river.

She squeezed her eyes shut, digging deep inside her chest. Farrendel. Concentrate on Farrendel. Remember that zing of magic she’d felt at that wedding and try to find it somewhere in her chest.

Something shifted. It was brief. A whisper, nothing more.

But she felthim. Like she had when she’d gripped his hand and willed him not to die.

Hold on, Farrendel. We’re coming for you.

She didn’t know if he would feel that she’d reached for the connection. But she would will as much encouragement and strength his way as she could. Even if she didn’t know where he was or what he was going through.

He was alive. That was the main thing she’d needed to know.

She whirled from the railing, casting about until she spotted Jalissa at the railing closer to the bow of the steamboat. Essie dashed to her and barely restrained herself from grabbing Jalissa in another hug. Instead, she gripped Jalissa’s shoulders in the elven hug. “Farrendel’s alive. I managed to feel the heart bond. It was brief, but there. He’s alive.”

Beneath Essie’s grip, Jalissa’s shoulders sank, muscles relaxing. Jalissa gripped Essie’s shoulders and squeezed, her mouth working like she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words or force them past a lump in her throat.