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T his was the second time in two days that someone had suggested Mareleau go somewhere she didn’t want to go. She stared at the woman with two names. The woman who was a stranger yet somehow also her distant kin. “Why the seven devils would I go to El’Ara with you?”

“Because,” Ailan said, “it’s the safest place for your son.”

“The safest place for him is…” She bit off her words. She was about to say the safest place for Noah was wherever Mareleau and Larylis were, but was that true? Larylis was preparing to face King Darius’ navy. War could swarm Vera and Khero any day now. Where would the safest place for Noah be?

She stared down at him in her arms, took in his peaceful dozing face. She would do anything to protect him. Anything.

Yet that didn’t mean she trusted Ailan. At least she wasn’t alone in that. Cora didn’t seem any more trusting of the Elvyn, and the other two women in the wagon—Salinda and Bernice—regarded Ailan with unveiled apprehension. Maybe even hostility.

“My brother is coming,” Ailan said. “The fact that I have my memories and youth back means the same will be true for him. He will know it means the Veil has torn, that the mora is pouring through the tear. And, because of his son’s efforts, he will know the reason the Veil has torn—that the true Morkara has been born.”

“Morkai knew all about the prophecy,” Cora said, sending a spear of betrayal through Mareleau’s chest. It wasn’t like Cora was necessarily agreeing with Ailan, but she was supporting the woman’s case, if only slightly. “He channeled it through a seer named Emylia, and he reported his findings to his father. Darius was the one who had sent Morkai to find information on El’Ara in the first place. There’s no doubt Darius knows everything now, as he’s already begun targeting our kingdoms—and he did so even before the Veil was torn.”

“Then he’s even more dangerous now,” Ailan said. “He will invade to gain access to the Veil and seek the tear. He’s always wanted complete control over El’Ara, and he will stop at nothing to get it.”

“Then how,” Mareleau said, “do you figure it’s safe for Noah to enter the very realm your brother seeks to attack? Wouldn’t it make more sense for me and Noah to stay out of El’Ara entirely? If he’ll be so fixated on the Veil, he won’t have time to consider some prophesied baby that might one day be his doom.”

“Noah poses a danger to Darius in the present, simply for being the true Morkara. The mora has chosen him, and Darius will be forced to act.”

“What do you mean the mora has chosen him?” Cora asked. “Isn’t the title of Morkara passed down through named heirs? You were named Satsara’s heir, which would make you the Morkara.”

“Yes, I am Satsara’s heir.” Ailan frowned as if she was surprised Cora knew that. “Yet there are other ways for a Morkara to name their heir, and there are ways other than death to pass the title on. My mother named me heir, overriding Darius’ birthright as eldest, which sparked the war with my brother. He sought to kill both me and my mother, for the mora will still recognize bloodline inheritance, if the Morkara and their named heir die before a new heir is named. When he murdered Satsara, I inherited her role as Morkara.

“When Darius realized we were trapped in the human world, he tried to defeat me. If he’d managed to kill me, he would have inherited my newly given title. And he almost did. Before he could land the killing blow, I thwarted him in a similar way my mother had; I relinquished my title. But not to my named heir, for I had no children yet. Instead, I passed the title to my unnamed heir.”

“What does that mean?” Cora asked.

“Passing the title of Morkara to one’s unnamed heir gives agency to the mora , allowing it to choose someone from the Morkara’s bloodline. It isn’t always the nextborn, either. It can be kin further down the bloodline. Anyone. Unless the Morkara names another, the mora is free to choose, however long it takes. This protected me from Darius, for he could no longer end my life without risking his place in bloodline succession. If I’d died before furthering my bloodline, the mora’s search for my heir would have stalled, and it would have been forced to forge a new path. Yes, there was a chance it would simply have worked in reverse and chosen Darius as my heir, but it also could have chosen a new bloodline entirely.

“He knew the mora wouldn’t choose him willingly, not unless he was a last resort. It would sooner choose a new bloodline to carry the role of Morkara. Thwarted, he fled to Syrus and left me alive, knowing he wouldn’t get another chance at taking the title he so greatly coveted until the next Morkara was chosen from my bloodline.

“Noah has been chosen. He is the Morkara. If Darius meets your son face to face, he will know it as well. The Elvyn—even half Elvyn like Darius—can sense their kin when in their immediate proximity. Since Darius and I share Satsara’s blood, he will sense that blood in Mareleau and Noah. There will be no fooling him. He will seek to end Noah’s life and mine, to follow the reversal of the succession until it’s back in his hands.”

“Follow the reversal…” Cora tilted her head. “Doesn’t that mean he has to kill every person in your bloodline in order to be next in line?”

“No. In the rare cases where the mora was given agency to choose an heir, it doesn’t consider the generations that lie between the new Morkara and the previous one as contenders for the title. Instead, it considers only the chosen heir, the previous Morkara, the children of the previous Morkara, and so on. I was briefly Morkara, before I passed the title to my unnamed heir, so at one point, my children counted. But as none are still alive, no contenders lie between me and Noah. We are the only living contenders aside from Darius.”

Anger simmered in Mareleau’s gut. “You drew a target on my son’s back. You passed on this burden to some future kin just to prolong your life. Wouldn’t it have been better if the title had passed on to a new bloodline? To someone inside the Veil and not in the human world?”

Ailan’s face fell. “I considered taking Last Breath and letting the role of the Morkara leave my bloodline. Had my memories not faded shortly after, I may have eventually done so. But all I had by then were my whispers, and they told me to wait. That the true Morkara would be born from my blood and that Darius would be defeated at last.”

“What purpose would your so-called whispers have had for waiting? For passing this burden on to my son?”

“I can’t say. There’s no way to know what alternate future there could have been. Darius would likely have continued to seek El’Ara despite being thwarted. He’d likely still have fathered Morkai and sent him to find information on the fae realm. Maybe you’d all have been safe from his machinations, but maybe he’d have gotten his way instead. Maybe he’d have succeeded at becoming Morkaius of the human realm without having made an enemy of Cora.”

That sent her mind reeling. She hated that Ailan was right. There really was no way to know whether things would be better or worse if Ailan had made a different choice.

She shook her head. “You still haven’t given me any reason to believe Noah would be safer in El’Ara than here.”

“He’s safer on the other side of the Veil because there’s still only one way for Darius to enter El’Ara: through the tear, and that is somewhere we can defend, if we can get there first.”

Cora spoke. “Does that mean you believe the tear to be a singular location and not a general weakening of the Veil?”

“Yes, the tear represents a single location. One mere split in the Veil. I can feel it like a sliver in the mora that flows to me, and it’s close. As of now, Darius doesn’t know where the tear is. It won’t be easy for him to find either, for he’s not as strong as he believes. His connection to fae magic is weaker than mine. He relies on his powers as a witch and a worldwalker, but he has no abilities as a weaver. No way to find the tear in the Veil quickly.”

Salinda arched her brow. “And you can?”

“Yes, for I have something he doesn’t,” Ailan said, her lips curling slightly at the corners. “A dragon. Two, actually.”

“The dragons can sense the tear?” Cora asked.

Ailan nodded. “Fae creatures have the strongest connection to the mora . Uziel and Ferrah will guide us to it. And that includes you, Cora. I need you to come with us.”

Cora stiffened. “Why the hell would I come? Why do you keep including me in this?”

“You are Queen of Khero,” Ailan said, voice firm. “You speak for your kingdom, and you’ve already admitted Khero is being targeted by Darius. We’re in this situation together whether we like it or not. If we have any hope of defeating my brother, we must stand united and forge an alliance. I want you with me when I return to El’Ara and speak to the tribunal.”

“I’ve already been to El’Ara,” Cora said, voice low. “I was neither well received nor well departed.”

Salinda and Bernice turned wide eyes to Cora. While Cora had given Salinda a summary of last summer’s events, she hadn’t gone into much detail.

Ailan’s posture went rigid. “You entered El’Ara? Before the Veil was torn?”

Cora thinned her lips, reluctance written across her face. Mareleau knew what she was keeping unsaid. That she was a worldwalker. Salinda had taken the confession in stride, praising Cora for her growing magic, but admitting as much to Ailan was different. The Elvyn viewed her abilities as a threat. Would Ailan see Cora the same way?

“I…” Cora began. “I…apparently…am a worldwalker.”

Ailan’s eyes widened, her dark irises flashing with something like fear.

Cora spoke again, calmer this time, as if emboldened by Ailan’s reaction. “I can use my clairsentience to astral travel to any place I can form a clear image of. I unwittingly did so with Valorre, when he filled my mind with a memory of his home.”

Ailan cursed under her breath, shoulders sagging. “The unicorns. It makes sense now. I didn’t understand why or how the unicorns first began to appear here, as my memories were compromised. But now…yes, of course their horns can pierce the Veil.”

“The unicorns’ memories were compromised too, so they weren’t able to return to El’Ara,” Cora said.

“Now they might remember.” Ailan’s gaze locked on Cora’s. “We must go. We must protect the tear. My brother cannot find out about what the unicorns can do. What he could do with them.”

“I’m not going back,” Cora said. “Your people hate humans. Your consort nearly had me killed.”

Ailan sucked in a breath. “You met Fanon?”

“I did. I met Ferrah too, and she tried to burn me alive.”

Ailan’s throat bobbed. “I’m sorry for how you were treated, Cora. I will not let them treat you like that again. When I return, I will have the authority to keep you safe. I may not be Morkara, but I am something like a regent until Noah comes of age.”

“How dare you talk about Noah coming of age, like you have any say in his future,” Mareleau hissed through her teeth. It took all her restraint not to shout, lest she wake Noah. “I am his mother.”

“In El’Ara you will be respected as Edel Morkara’Elle. That is like a queen mother?—”

“I am more than that already. I am a queen in this world. I don’t care what I am in your fae realm, or what Noah is.”

“It is his birthright, and he’s already claimed it just by being born. Unless he chooses to pass the role to someone else when he comes of age, none of us can change that.”

“I can refuse. You can’t take him from me.”

Ailan released a trembling sigh. “No, I won’t take him from you, nor will I force you to come. Instead, I will trust that you will do the right thing. That you will put his safety ahead of your personal ambitions.”

Mareleau’s jaw went slack. The words stung more than Ailan likely intended, for although she hadn’t used the word selfish , that was all Mareleau had heard. Mareleau had been called selfish numerous times, but only in the last several months did she start to feel it was true. She’d done terrible things to get what she wanted. Lied. Schemed. Hurt people she loved. Was she acting selfishly again? Was refusing to take Noah to El’Ara truly selfish? Would he be safe there?

Her lungs tightened as the weight of this choice squeezed her from every side. She’d made poor choices before. Like when she’d given her cousin Lurel to Cora as her lady’s maid—a choice that ultimately resulted in the girl’s death. Or when she’d lied to her father about being pregnant, driving a wedge between them. How he’d died before they’d gotten the chance to reconcile.

Ailan’s tone softened. “The mora chose him, Mareleau. While I believe you and Cora are more important to the prophecy than the whispers have made it seem, there are still reasons it chose him. The mora has seen something in him, something El’Ara needs, that no one who has come before him has been able to provide. Fate has seen a future for him in the fae realm, and that same future can be yours. Being the mother of the Morkara is no small thing in El’Ara, and should anything happen to me before Noah comes of age, the mora will recognize you as regent over the magic instead.

“I know you love your kingdom, and I understand how much it burns you up to think of leaving it. But El’Ara is vaster than just a kingdom. It’s an entire world. A world made up of more than the Elvyn. More than the Faeryn. The Morkara is responsible for redistributing magic to the farthest reaches of the world, over the seas of the Mermyn, down to the fire dunes of the Djyn. There are fae creatures besides unicorns and dragons, homes and communities across the world, innocent beings who depend on El’Ara’s magic for survival. They need their Morkara in order to thrive.”

Mareleau couldn’t help but be moved by the portrait she painted with her words. True, all she’d seen of the fae so far had given her reasons to fear and resent El’Ara. But there was an entire world beyond the Veil that she truly knew nothing about.

A world her son had been chosen to rule.

“Even if you only want to consider your world,” Ailan said, “there are additional reasons you must come with me. While I can guide the dragons back to El’Ara, if you and I are separated again, the dragons will sense my blood in you through your magic. They will find you. Stifling your magic with wards may keep them from locating you, but that doesn’t mean they won’t enter the human world to look.”

“Can’t you seal the tear in the Veil once you’re on the other side?” Cora asked.

“The Veil is more complicated than that. Sealing the tear won’t bring El’Ara’s heart back. That’s a problem we will need to solve after we defeat Darius.” She turned her attention back to Mareleau. “You don’t have to promise to make El’Ara your home just yet. We will figure out the future later. Together. For now, we need to defend two worlds. You won’t have a kingdom to rule if we don’t work together to keep Lela and El’Ara out of Darius’ hands. And for now, Noah is safer behind the Veil. Trust me in this.”

Her lungs constricted further. She didn’t want this burden on her shoulders. She wanted someone else to choose for her, yet at the same time, she railed at the thought of being ordered around or putting her fate in someone else’s hands.

She had to make this choice.

For herself.

For Noah.

For whatever consequences awaited.

She was nearly dizzy with the responsibility, yet she managed to form the words, “When will we leave?”

Ailan didn’t answer at first. Instead, she closed her eyes, lifted her hands, and linked her forefingers together. Then, angling her palms, she laced the rest of her fingers and pressed the tips of her thumbs to her chest. Mareleau had never seen such a strange gesture. The silence that followed told her Ailan was focusing. Or…listening? She had droned on about her precious whispers.

With a slow exhale, Ailan opened her eyes and slowly unlinked her fingers. “Tomorrow by midday,” she said. “We’ll take the wagon and find the tear in the Veil before Darius sets foot on this land.”

Gods above, she hoped Ailan was right. More than anything, she hoped she was making a choice she wouldn’t soon regret.