"Taren's forces?" I ask.
"Unknown. We killed at least forty of his elite guards, but..." Emir hesitates. "Kaan, they keep coming. Every report from our scouts says the same thing. His numbers are growing."
"How is that possible?"
"Kieran." Emir's voice is grim. "All seven Light Court factions have united under him. He's funneling troops, resources, weapons—everything flows through to Taren. This isn't just one lord's army anymore. It's the full might of the Light Court, and Taren is just the blade Kieran is pointing at us while he waits to deliver the killing blow himself."
The words settle like stones in my stomach. "Meanwhile, half my own factions have either declared independence or conveniently forgotten how to send reinforcements."
"Three more lords failed to deliver their promised troops this week," Emir confirms. "The Shadow Court is fracturing while the Light Court has never been more united."
Two weeks. Maybe less. And I'm fighting a unified empire with a kingdom that's busy tearing itself apart.
"Then the Veil isn't just our best chance," I say slowly. "It's our only chance."
Emir nods, then says carefully, "I'll prep the ritual site. The Twilight Eclipse begins at midnight."
"Good."
He turns to leave, then pauses. "Kaan? I hope you find Banu. And that it's worth the cost."
After he's gone, I sink into a chair. Worth the cost. As if I have any idea what the cost might be.
The hours creep by. I check on Zoran three times, each visit confirming that he's still critical but stable. Nesilhan hasn't left his side except to gather supplies for the Veil crossing.
Elçin spends the day in the archives, researching. When I find her at midday, she's surrounded by ancient texts.
"Anything useful?" I ask.
She looks up. "Maybe. The texts mention something called the Veil Prison—a place within the Veil where powerful beings can be trapped using their own memories as binding material. If Banu's there..." She trails off.
To free Banu, we'll have to break a prison built from her own worst moments.
"Can it be broken?" I press.
"The texts aren't clear. But they mention that twilight magic—the blend of light and shadow—might be able to disrupt the prison's foundation." She glances at me meaningfully. "Which means Nesilhan."
Of course it does. My wife will have to be the one to break the prison, which means she'll be exposed to whatever nightmares the Veil has stored in those bars.
"She's not going to like that," I mutter.
"She doesn't have to like it," Elçin says pragmatically. "She just has to do it. Assuming we can even find Banu in three hours."
Midnight approacheswith the inevitability of an execution.
The four of us gather at the ritual site Emir prepared—a circular clearing at the edge of the palace grounds where the barrier between realms is thinnest. Runes cover the ground in concentric circles, pulsing with power.
Nesilhan stands beside me, her armor freshly cleaned, her weapons sharpened. But it's her eyes that hold my attention—clear and focused and absolutely terrified beneath the determination.
"Last chance to back out," I tell her quietly.
She snorts. "Not a chance. Banu's in there because of me. I'm bringing her home."
Elçin checks her weapons for the third time. Yasar stands apart from us, his fire-shadow magic flickering around his fingers like restless embers.
Above us, the first signs of the Eclipse begin. The moon starts to darken, its silver light dimming to bronze, then copper, then something that isn't quite any color at all. And in that strange twilight between illumination and darkness, reality starts to tear.
The Veil appears as a shimmer in the air—not quite invisible, but undeniably there. A wound in the world where all the rules stop applying.
