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T he mora surged toward Cora, the force of it nearly pushing her off the rock. It washed over her, through her, fluttering past. She sensed its journey then, the way it flowed through the Veil on unseen, underground webs of magic, bypassing the wardweaving that stopped everything else. Everything weaker. The strongest vein pulsed from a singular direction to the northwest—the tear. The mora was concentrated there, flowing faster, easier. All the lines met beneath her palms, flooding the rock, filling it, and then spilling over the top of the land like an invisible spring.

Now she fully understood why the mora couldn’t return to El’Ara. She’d understood it intellectually before, after Garot had explained the Blight, but this time she could feel it. The way it flowed so confidently toward the rock before stalling and drifting outward in haphazard, sometimes violent waves. Its exit was unhampered by the Veil, but its return wasn’t. The mora sought direction here at the junction of those veins, but it had no guidance, and it was lost without it. This was the importance of the Morkara’s duties.

A duty she could mimic now.

As Queen of Magic, the mora saw her as someone it could obey.

Whether it would was the question.

Like an unruly child, the magic surged again, as if testing her resolve, her strength. It seared her palms, sent chills down her spine.

She focused on the coolness of the stone beneath her hands, the air in her lungs, the dew drops dotting the field, the moonlight streaming overhead. The elements were hers, reflecting the similar-yet-different ones that made up fae mora . The magic surged once more, battering her body inside and out. She focused on Teryn’s steady touch, Valorre’s comforting presence.

Her loved ones.

Her anchors.

She sent her intention back to the mora . It funneled from her heart, down her arms, into her palms, flooding the rock beneath her. It spoke to the pulsing mora in a silent demand.

Reverse.

Reverse.

Reverse .

The mora stilled. Its flow grew calm. And it opened itself to her will.

Possibilities spread before her as she felt the weight of mora settle over her. Its strength was somehow crushing and uplifting at the same time. A blanket of lead and light. A blazing, deadly inferno and a gentle ray of sunshine.

It was both. It offered everything. Nothing.

It was unyielding. It was pliant.

She could shape it in her hands even as it burned her.

Yes…she could shape it.

Visions flooded her mind, of all the mora offered. The power it could give her. The enemies it could vanquish. The wars it could end. The curses it could break…

Curses.

She was still cursed to die childless, wasn’t she? She never had found a way to rid herself of Morkai’s most wretched punishment.

Darkness filled her heart, a companion she no longer tried to hide. Yet now that it was here…

It would be a shame not to use the mora . At least a little. She could use it without harnessing it. She could keep some for herself, couldn’t she? Why shouldn’t she be rewarded for all her hard work? Why shouldn’t she wield what was freely offered? Why should she send the mora back at all? She could be Queen of Lela, Queen of Magic, and do anything in this world. She could stitch the tear from here and keep the flow of magic exactly as it was, keep siphoning all of El’Ara’s power, lock the fae away and let the Blight take them while she used the magic as she saw fit. She could end Darius in a single flick of her wrist and ensure none of her people ever had to suffer. She could obliterate enemy forces without risking any of her soldiers. She could fortify her body, her soul, and?—

“Cora!”

The voice tore through her raging, swirling thoughts.

Then another. Cora!

The two voices called her name, one inside her mind, the other ringing through her ears.

She was aware of Teryn’s touch then, the hands that framed her shoulders, bracing her like she might drift away. Then she noticed the soft muzzle that bumped her cheek, the breath that blew across her face.

She forced her attention to narrow on that warm breath, those warm hands.

Only then did she realize her palms were no longer pressed to the rock. Instead, she’d risen to her knees, her spine rigid, her head tipped back. The mora radiated through her, howling in her veins like a vicious storm.

“You don’t need it, my love,” Teryn said, his hand moving to her cheek.

She opened her eyes. Her vision was blurry at first, but soon it cleared to show his face. He was pale, expression twisted with worry. Valorre’s head was lowered beside him, staring at her with his wide russet eyes.

Teryn spoke again. “You don’t need to harness it. You are enough as you are.”

She sagged at his words. Fatigue tugged her bones, and she was desperate to collapse. To sleep. But she couldn’t quit yet. Her duty had only just begun.

With a trembling sigh, she settled back into the feel of Teryn’s hands and the vibrant energy that was Valorre’s presence. That’s right. She could lean on them. Turn over some of the burden.

“Cora.” Teryn stroked her cheek with his thumb, his voice pitched with worry.

“I’m all right,” she managed to croak. “I wasn’t prepared for the temptation to harness it. I…I’m ready now. This time I’ll rely on the two of you.”

Teryn nodded. “Don’t do this alone. You don’t need to.”

He was right. She wasn’t alone. She could share this.

Teryn moved aside, giving her space to press her palms to the stone again. He moved his hands to her back, his touch both firm and comforting. Valorre kept his muzzle near her shoulder, bumping her with it, blowing hot breaths against her cheek again.

She wouldn’t forget them this time.

Gritting her teeth, she faced the mora again, but she didn’t turn herself over to it. Reverse , she demanded, pushing back with her resolve. Fighting its flow. Urging it back underground.

Are you certain? it asked. It pulsed through her, infusing her mind with visions again.

Yes. Cora breathed the temptation away, let the mora swirl around her, through her, and into her companions, taking some of the weight off her chest.

You wouldn’t rather wield it? Harness it? Take it?

NO . She pushed back even harder, shared more of her burden with Teryn and Valorre. I am Queen of Lela, Queen of Magic. You yield when I tell you to yield. You move when I tell you to move. Now GO! RETURN .

Teryn held her tighter.

Valorre’s presence grew warmer.

The mora cycled through the three figures, then radiated down Cora’s hands.

Through her palms.

Back into the rock.

And finally, its flow reversed.

Mareleau had practiced the warding gesture Ailan had taught her dozens of times by now, and she still wasn’t certain if it worked. Noah lay on her bed, wrapped in lavender silk swaddling embroidered with a gold dragon-scale pattern. She sat beside him and performed every move that her hands had already memorized. She pressed her thumbs to her ring fingers, angled her wrists, then linked her fingers together. Another turn of her wrists, and she pressed the tips of her remaining fingers together. She held the gesture for a few breaths, then laced all fingers before spreading them over Noah like she was covering him in an invisible blanket.

She stared down at her results. Like always she could see nothing out of the ordinary. How could she ever know it worked?

Remembering what Ailan had told her about practicing on herself first, she strode to the mirror and repeated the same gesture but for her own body. She tried to perceive something , some clue that it had worked, but neither her eyes nor her claircognizance told her a damn thing. Clenching her jaw, she whirled away from the mirror. She didn’t have time to practice or wonder. Ferrah had returned from the tear not long ago, which was the signal that the ambush had begun.

How long ago had that been? Ten minutes? Twenty? Was it evening on the other side of the Veil, or daytime like it was here? She tried to estimate the hour, but math had never been her strength. Besides, the discrepancy of time between the two realms was an estimate, not an exact science.

Still, it chilled her to think that even though it had only been minutes for her, hours of battle may have already passed. Hours that Larylis could be fighting. Struggling. Or…

No, she wouldn’t think of anything worse than that.

A knock sounded at her door, and Garot entered without waiting for her to answer. “Are you ready? We must make haste to the dragon caves as a precaution.”

Mareleau wasn’t overly fond of the idea of hiding in dark caves with a horde of feisty dragons, but Ailan had assured her it would be the safest place for her and Noah. That the dragons would protect them if the worst happened.

“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be, I suppose.” She returned to the bed and scooped up her son, cradling him close to her. She shouldered his carrying sling as well in case she needed it. She’d come to rely on the convenient item and couldn’t imagine these early days of motherhood without it.

She joined Garot outside her bedroom and found Etrix in the hall. Both had stayed behind to guard her and Noah. Garot led the way, though not with his swirling tunnel. Instead, they made haste through the halls on foot. The cheery sunlight streaming through the arched windows made it hard to imagine a deadly battle was taking place at that very moment.

They reached the stairwell that led down to the next floor?—

Mareleau sucked in a sharp breath as threads of invisible energy poured over her, tingling her scalp, filling her throat, her chest, her stomach. Garot, already a step down, whirled to face her, brow raised in question.

Etrix placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you all right?”

She opened her mouth but no words came out. The tingling force continued to wash through her, an ice-cold thrum so soft and foreign she couldn’t make sense of it. Her mind spun, eyelashes fluttering as the energy flowed down her legs, her feet, then rose again.

Noah stirred in her arms, and the tingle lessened by half.

The sensation remained, but it was subtler now. Quieter. And it was pulsing between her and Noah.

“What…” She swallowed the dryness in her throat. “What was that? Did you feel it?”

Etrix furrowed his brow, head tilting to the side.

“We must—” Garot’s words cut off as he reached into the pocket of his teal robe. He extracted a strange green orb, one that glowed with a pulsing emerald light. His tan, freckled face paled, his eyes shooting wide. “No.”

Etrix rounded on the Elvyn. “One of the triggers was tripped? Where?”

“Not just one,” Garot muttered as he reached for the top of the glowing orb with his thumb and forefinger. Gingerly, he tugged until something like a petal spread down. He peeled another, then another, until the orb flattened out into what looked like a multilayered map. If a map could be made from an unusual flower bud. She could hardly comprehend what she was seeing as Garot lifted one petal, then the other, flipping them and rearranging them like pages in the most oddly constructed book in existence. Finally, he paused on one petal. Darker green veins patterned its surface, which Mareleau soon realized weren’t random or organic markings, but shapes of landmarks—lakes, forests, and mountains. It really was a map. And beneath one of the mountains marking the petal pulsed a small red light.

“The dragon caves in Bel’Dawn,” Etrix said, brow knitting deeper.

Just as quickly as the red light flashed, it disappeared. Garot flipped through the petals with haste until he found the light again. “Now the Lo’Sel Mountains.”

“What’s happening?” Mareleau asked, her voice strained. She understood enough to know this map must be what alerted the Elvyn of non-fae trespassers. It was how they’d found Cora the first time she’d worldwalked here, as well as how they’d reached Mareleau’s group when they’d arrived with Ailan.

Etrix and Garot exchanged a weighted glance.

Etrix’s throat bobbed. “He’s here. And he’s worldwalking from cave to cave, locations he recalls from when he lived in El’Ara. He’s figured out where they’ll be hiding.”

“That can only mean…” Garot’s shoulders visibly shrank, his expression empty as his lips flattened into a tight line. Mareleau had never seen him without a jovial smile on his face. Never heard him at a loss for words. Even Etrix, who always maintained a neutral, stoic air, crumpled, his eyes glazing with tears as he flung his palm over his heart, as if smothering a piercing ache.

Even without their reactions, she understood what had happened. It had been written in that strange tingle of energy she’d felt. The energy that continued to pulse between her and Noah even now.

Ailan was dead.

Mareleau was regent.

And Darius was coming for her and her son.