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My father never returned, so I am writing on his behalf now. I think the old sorcerer murdered him before he could get to her. I will continue to search, but I won’t challenge him, and I pray you won’t ask me to.

Felix Morton

Day 146,243

I believe I’ve located her, sir. I am going to infiltrate and attempt to retrieve her for you. Perhaps you will finally be reunited with your wife.

Nigel Morton

There were many more, and they all said some variation of the same thing. These men, the Mortons, had all looked for his wife, but not a single one of them had been able to find her.

My legs shook. Too weak to stand, I knelt before the fire and paged through the letters toward the bottom of the stack.

Day 96,114

I’ve had no luck these past few months. I don’t suspect I will find any more than those before me. But I will keep searching for her, as I know you will too. I pray for your sake that she is still alive somehow.

Peter Morton

Day 83,902…

Day 69,899…

Day 47,039…

Day 28,562 …

Day 19,421

I thought that I had caught a trail today, but the bastard’s magic is too strong. He has concealed her. I lost it, sir. Forgive me.

Roger Morton

Day 17,256…

Day 13,469…

Day 8,931…

Day 2,583…

Day 278

My Dear Friend Smyth,

There is still no trace of her. I will go farther north this summer in the hopes of more clues. May the Selvaren comfort you. I will do everything I can.

Victor Morton

“Victor.” I covered my mouth with my hands. His childhood friend Victor.

On each letter, the same handwriting—Gavin’s—marked the date. And if the Felix Morton at the door was the same Felix Morton who’d written the letter on day 146,797, if she was still alive in the same way Molochai and Simeon were alive, she was likely still trapped there.

With Molochai.

“How long have you been looking for her?” I whispered, tongue dry, swallowing bile.

If Simeon and Molochai were so old, it should come as no surprise that others could be too. I was vexed by the reality of the math and I calculated repeatedly, again and again, hoping I would get a more realistic answer. I didn’t. 146,797 days was over four hundred years .

“Because the whole gods-damned world has been hellbent on taking what I want from me— what’s mine—for a long fucking time.”

A long time, indeed. A very, very long time.

I let silent tears fall. For him—for losing her so long ago. For being alone for so long.

And for myself. I mourned what I would never have—the kind of love it took for one man to devote four hundred years to finding one woman.

Four hundred lonely years, if the last woman he’d been with was her, as he’d said.

No wonder he had refused me. No wonder he hated himself for having feelings for me. I was in the way of them.

My betrothed wasn’t waiting for me, but for an idea. Gavin was waiting for the one he truly loved.

“Gods,” I breathed, running my shaky hands over my face, hating myself even more.

I was stunned, heartbroken, and horrified. But I didn’t have it in me to be angry. Not with him, not really. If he planned to give me up to get her back, could I blame him? Wouldn’t anyone make such a sacrifice for someone they loved? Wouldn’t I have done it for Oliver?

I stared into the fire, letting its heat dry the tears that kept coming, and tried to think of a reason not to do what I knew I needed to.

Despite the violent crack he’d put in my heart, all I could think about was his smile. His laughter, deep and warm and unrestrained. No more pain and longing in those warm eyes. After the kindness he’d shown me. The care.

He deserved happiness.

I thought of Finn and Gemma, Caz and Marin and their baby, free to live without fear outside of those Caves.

Free to go wherever they wanted. And those children and their sticks with dancing fire celebrating the solstice.

There’d be many more to come, if I was successful.

No more of Simeon’s wards around the cities.

No evacuations needed from Insidions wreaking havoc and death .

Maybe I didn’t have to kill Molochai to free my people from him.

Molochai had been scorned by the woman he loved. He’d lost himself in the rejection. If the one thing that had driven Molochai off the edge was not having Christabel… maybe I could replace her. If I looked like Simeon—looked like her —maybe I was close enough.

Maybe the one thing that undid Molochai could put him back together just enough to end the suffering.

And I could feel free knowing the ones I loved were safe.

Indeed, I could get Gavin’s wife back and save my people.

I could make a deal of my own. Me and my power in exchange for Gavin’s wife and Nyrida’s freedom, and with the condition that Molochai and I would leave Nyrida and never come back.

I remembered Gemma and Finn mentioning foreign lands across the Brinnean sea.

It hurt most parts of me to stand, but I did. I’d refused to promise Gavin I wouldn’t sacrifice myself for my people. That was true. I would do what I needed to do. And for him, his happiness, and his peace, I would do more.

I had to do something .

With shaking fingers and blurry eyes, I wrote down what I wanted him to know. Then, I slid into my boots, climbed out the first floor window, and stole the single, dark-brown gelding at the inn. Gavin would be slow to follow on foot if he tried.

I stopped at the edge of the forest. Gavin and Felix were nowhere to be found. I took one last look at the green and red firelights of the solstice celebrations.

And I rode south to Molochai’s camp.