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C ora planted her feet on the lakeshore. Opening her eyes, she saw the lake blanketed in night, a crescent moon reflected on its surface. She shifted her gaze to Valorre’s back and released a slow exhale as she found all her companions intact upon the saddle—Mareleau, Noah, and a mildly flustered Berol, who flapped her wings before readjusting her position on the saddle’s pommel.

Mareleau blinked at their new surroundings, though Cora couldn’t be sure she wasn’t blinking tears from her eyes. This couldn’t be easy for her. It wasn’t even easy for Cora, and she was somewhat used to the jarring effect of instantaneous travel by now. Neither of them could be expected to get used to leaving the people they loved.

I told you it would be easy to get here . Valorre’s boastful voice interrupted her thoughts. I am incredibly helpful .

You are , Cora replied. His arrogance wasn’t unfounded; because of him, it had been much easier to reach the lake this time than the first, even with her extra travelers. Since both she and Valorre had the image of their destination in mind, she hadn’t needed to focus quite as hard. Instead, Valorre had held the image while she’d sensed her companions.

Mareleau sniffled, drawing Cora’s attention back to her.

“Are you all right?” Cora asked.

“Fine,” she bit out, but her shoulders were visibly shaking. She looked pale too, though it was hard to tell for certain in the moonlight.

Cora glanced at the gauze around Mareleau’s throat. There were two dark spots on each side, but the material wasn’t soaked through. That gave Cora some semblance of relief. If her friend was pale, at least it wasn’t from blood loss. Her relief was short-lived, for she knew what she had to do next. She reached inside her cloak pocket until her fingertips brushed the sleek tines of the collar.

“Don’t.” Mareleau’s voice trembled as she spoke the word, her eyes locked on Cora’s pocket. “Please don’t replace it just yet. I know it’s selfish of me to ask?—”

“I understand.” Cora withdrew her hand and left the collar where it was. She was half relieved, for she wasn’t sure she had the strength of will to exacerbate her friend’s wounds if she could help it. “Perhaps we can reach the Forest People and get aid before the dragons sense you.”

“Thank you,” Mareleau said, her expression easing. “If we hear a single wingbeat…do what must be done.”

Cora nodded.

“Where are we?” Mareleau rushed to ask, as if eager to change the subject.

“We’re in southwest Khero. I believe this is Lake Sarrolin, which means the nearest village is Brekan. Now I need to find out which direction the Forest People are.”

Cora closed her eyes and extended her senses. A wave of fatigue washed over her, much like it had the first time she’d come here. This time, it must be due to the feat of traveling with so many. She was tempted to take a moment to rest, but she didn’t want to risk staying in place too long, lest they attract the dragons. Breathing deeply, she pushed past her exhaustion, seeking nearby emotion. Valorre snorted, reminding her to utilize him. She pressed her palm to his neck. Her fatigue lessened and her awareness increased. Familiar energies brightened at the edge of her consciousness. She shifted side to side, seeking direction. Her heart pulsed as she faced the opposite end of the lake.

That was where she would find them. “Let’s go.”

Salinda was already waiting for her.

Cora felt her proximity before she saw her, half hidden in the shadows of a cedar tree. As they approached, Salinda stepped forward, eyes crinkling at the corners. Moonlight shone on the woman’s dark hair, her simple wool dress, the tattooed skin visible on her forearms, chest, and neck. As well as the single tattoo that marked her as an elder: the triple moon at the tip of her chin.

Cora’s heart lifted, both at the familiar loving face and the tangible proof that stood before her. She’d already known she’d succeeded in finding the Forest People. She’d been able to feel them. But now Salinda was there, serving as irrefutable evidence that Cora had used her clairsentience to worldwalk to a place she’d never physically been.

You had my help , Valorre reminded her.

You’re right . She couldn’t have done it without him. Without their connection. Without his link to his unicorn brethren and the image of the lake they’d helped him form.

Still, she wanted to take a little credit for herself.

Cora rushed the rest of the way to Salinda, and they met in a tight embrace. The smell of rosemary filled her senses, such a beloved aroma that always reminded her of her foster mother.

“Maiya knew you’d come tonight,” Salinda said, squeezing Cora tighter.

When they released each other, Cora scanned the trees around them. “Is Maiya…”

“She stayed back at camp.”

Cora’s heart sank. She still wasn’t sure her party would be permitted to enter the camp, but she hoped she’d at least get to see Maiya. Regardless, it was impressive that her friend’s claircognizance had grown so strong. She’d predicted Cora’s arrival the last time she’d come too.

“She knew exactly where you’d be this time. South end of camp, toward the lake.” Salinda’s eyes left Cora to land on the figures lingering slightly behind. Some of the mirth left her expression, and her voice took on a subtle edge. “She also mentioned you’d be bringing friends.”

Cora understood the woman’s apprehension. Doing what she was doing—bringing strangers to the commune—would have been against the rules when she’d been considered one of them. It was so much worse now that she was an outsider. A royal. “I did,” she said, masking her grimace. “Please allow me to introduce you to Mareleau and her son, Noah. Mareleau, this is Salinda. The woman who raised me for six years.”

Mareleau tipped her chin in greeting. It must have rankled her pride to be introduced as simply Mareleau and not her full title as queen, but they were all better off if they spoke as little of royal matters as they could. For now, at least.

“And you remember Valorre,” Cora said. Some of the Forest People had met him when they came to fight at Centerpointe Rock, and he’d basked in the reverence they’d shown him. He tossed his mane, eager to draw Salinda’s attention. Cora didn’t mention Berol, for the falcon had already taken to the skies on their way here. She didn’t thrive off meeting people the way Valorre did.

“It’s lovely to see you again,” Salinda said to Valorre, offering him a respectful nod.

Valorre’s emotions flared with pride. Ask her if she thinks I look fashionable ? —

I’m not asking her that right now , Cora mentally conveyed, then spoke to Salinda out loud. “This may sound like a strange request, but we desperately need someone’s aid in suppressing Mareleau’s magic.”

Salinda squinted, studying Mareleau. “Bernice is our most skilled warder now. She took Druchan’s place as an elder witch.”

Cora’s breath caught at the mention of Druchan. He hadn’t been fond of Cora after she’d returned to the commune with tidings of war, but he’d fought at Centerpointe Rock anyway. And died. She couldn’t help but feel responsible for that.

Salinda continued. “Bernice can create a lasting ward around another’s magic, but…I’ll need to see if I can convince her to leave Nalia.”

A spike of emotion slammed into Cora. She’d kept her mental shields down to sense her proximity to the camp, and now she felt a hollow grief that wasn’t her own. She spoke through the secondhand pain. “Is something wrong with the High Elder?”

“She’s been unwell for days,” Salinda said. “She’ll only allow Bernice to tend to her. We think she’s…”

Salinda didn’t need to finish. High Elder Nalia was dying.

“I’m so sorry,” Cora said, and this time her own grief mingled with her foster mother’s. Nalia was beloved by everyone in the commune. She’d been one of the few people who’d supported Cora when she’d confessed the truth of her history and identity. She’d always been old, wrinkled, and hunched. Yet fierce too. When Cora had last seen her, she’d seemed as healthy as ever.

“She’s had a full and long life,” Salinda said, her voice rich with emotion. “There isn’t a single person alive who hasn’t known her from birth. We knew she’d eventually leave us. Now, come. Let’s get you and your friend to my tent without drawing too much attention.”

The witch named Bernice sat before Mareleau in Salinda’s tent, burning a bundle of fragrant herbs in a clay pot. Cora had never been personally acquainted with the witch when she’d lived in the commune, but she recognized her curly red hair and her wide build. Bernice was clairalient and used scents to cast wards. Both Bernice and Mareleau kept their eyes closed while they sat on Salinda’s cot. Meanwhile, Salinda rocked Noah in her arms. He’d woken after Mareleau had dismounted Valorre—who was now wandering the woods nearby—and, after being nursed, was content enough to be held by a stranger.

The tent grew hazy with the smoke, but it was a comforting aroma. The blend of sage, rosemary, frankincense, and mugwort was commonly used for wards and protection. Cora could have selected them on her own, but she knew better than to think she could do what Bernice was doing. Cora could protect a physical space with herbs but she had no experience in shielding someone else’s magic. And Bernice was doing exactly that. The magic sizzled in the air, thickening around Mareleau as the witch guided the smoke around her. The Forest People called it quiet magic, and it was the kind Cora used to dismiss as unimpressive. Now quiet magic had become ingrained in Cora’s soul.

Bernice released a slow exhale. “It is done. It should hold until morning. After sunrise, I’ll cast it again if you’re still here.”

Mareleau opened her eyes. “Thank you,” she said, voice tight. Mareleau wasn’t used to interacting so freely with strangers, especially with those so far beneath her station. Yet she was being respectful. Or perhaps just quiet. She hadn’t said much since they’d arrived.

Salinda returned Noah to his mother’s arms and faced Bernice. “How is Nalia?”

Bernice rose from the cot, not meeting Salinda’s eyes. “The High Elder has asked me not to speak on her condition, so I won’t.”

Cora frowned, studying Bernice’s pursed lips, her suddenly tense shoulders. She expected to sense the same sorrow Salinda emitted, but Bernice seemed more annoyed than anything. Salinda gave the witch a sympathetic smile but didn’t press for more.

Bernice left the tent before Cora could make sense of the exchange.

“Now that we’ve taken care of your friend,” Salinda said, “will you tell me why you’re here?” If the edge in her tone wasn’t evidence enough of her apprehension, it flowed from her in waves. Gone was the joy of their reunion. Not that Salinda was angry. She was more wary, as she had a right to be. Cora was clearly not here for a casual chat.

Salinda settled on a pile of furs near a makeshift writing desk, upon which quills, ink pots, and dozens of loose papers were messily strewn. She gestured for Cora to take a seat on the cot next to Mareleau.

Cora did so, exchanging a hesitant glance with her friend before saying, “One of the reasons for my visit is as you already know; we need to mask Mareleau’s magic. She only recently discovered she’s a witch, and there have been…unfortunate consequences. We are grateful for Bernice’s help, but we were hoping someone can teach her to ward herself.”

“I see. And what are these unfortunate consequences?”

Cora swallowed hard. “That’s the second matter we’ve come here for. Has anyone in the commune reported dragon sightings?”

“So you’ve seen them too? A pair flew overhead yesterday morning. We could hardly believe what we were seeing.” She shook her head, expression bemused. “Though I suppose if unicorns can return from extinction, dragons can too.”

Cora pursed her lips. She needed to tell Salinda the truth about where the fae creatures had come from, that they’d emerged not from extinction but a different world. But there was so much more to explain before she could touch on that.

Salinda’s eyes narrowed, and her bewildered look turned to concern. “Are you suggesting the dragons are the unfortunate consequences of your friend’s magic?”

“In a way,” she confessed, and the weight of her tale settled all around her, lacing her bones with another wave of fatigue. She pushed past it and went on to explain what she could, starting with her unintentional visit to El’Ara and all she’d learned there. About Satsara, Darius, and Ailan. About the Veil and the Blight. How and why the unicorns had entered the human world, chased by dragons to find Ailan or her kin. Then—after casting a questioning look at Mareleau and receiving a subtle nod in return—she confessed to her companions’ identities. Not only was Mareleau the Queen of Vera, she was also the prophesied mother. The Blood of Ailan. And Noah was the true Morkara of El’Ara.

Salinda leaned back in her pile of furs, eyes distant. “That’s a lot to take in. None of us had ever surmised that Lela was a land from another realm. We thought our ancestors were from another time, not another place. We knew about the prophecy and the first Morkaius, but not in such detail. The Blood of Darius is a term known to us, but we’ve never heard the names Satsara or Ailan. And we hadn’t a clue Darius referred to a living king.”

Cora’s stomach dropped. She’d hoped Salinda would have more to share. That she’d admit that she knew everything Cora knew—and beyond—and that the elders had simply chosen to keep these historical facts a secret. She clung to one last strand of hope. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you know? When we spoke about Duke Morkai last spring, the elders seemed to know so much. Do you at least know where any of the Elvyn may have settled after the Veil was formed? The Faeryn became the Forest People, but where did the Elvyn go? If Darius is still alive, his sister might be too. If we can find her…”

“I’m sorry, Cora,” Salinda said, lips curled down at the corners. “At this point, it’s safe to say you know far more?—”

Her words were drowned out by a distant shout.

Then another.

Salinda bolted upright and rushed from the tent. Cora scrambled after her, but she froze in place as she reached the tent flap.

That was when she felt it.

The clairsentient warning ringing through her blood.

That was when she heard it.

The rhythmic beat of wings.