"Then perhaps you could share where exactly we're going," Arion pressed. "Because from where I stand, we're just wandering deeper into the wilderness with no clear destination."
"Would you prefer I provide you with a map?" Karse's tone had gone dangerous. "Perhaps mark it with a nice dotted line so you can follow along like children?"
"That's not what he meant—"Sian started.
"Isn't it?" Karse turned to face them all. "You want me to guide you to the seal, but you don't trust that I actually know where it is. You think what? That I'm leading you in circles for entertainment?"
"No one said that," Thaine said carefully.
"You didn't have to." Karse's lip curled. "I can see it in how you all keep checking the sun's position, how you mark the trees as we pass. You're tracking our route because you don't trust mine."
"Can you blame us?" Eliam's shadows had begun to pool at his feet. "Your people have every reason to want the fae courts dead. Leading us into the wilderness and abandoning us would be efficient."
The temperature dropped several degrees. Karse went perfectly still, and Briar saw his hand move to the weapon at his side.
"If I wanted you dead," he said softly, "I wouldn't need to abandon you in the forest. I'd just slit your throats in your sleep and be done with it."
"Try it," Eliam said flatly.
"Enough." Arion's light flared between them. "We're all tired. We're all on edge. This isn't helping."
"No, let's hear it," Karse said, his attention still fixed on Eliam. "If you don't trust me to guide you, why did you agree to my terms? Why bring me at all?"
"Because we had no choice," Eliam said. "Not because we trust you."
Something flickered across Karse's face—hurt, maybe, or rage so deep it had gone cold. "Then perhaps you should find your own way to the seal. See how far you get before the corruption takes you."
He turned and stalked into the trees, leaving the group in tense silence.
"That went well," Halian muttered.
"Someone should go after him," Sian said, but no one moved.
Briar watched from Phaeon's back, saying nothing. The fractures in the group that had been hairline cracks were widening into chasms. Fear and exhaustion were turning them against each other, and they hadn't even reached the corrupted zones yet.
The rest of the day passed in uncomfortable quiet. Karse didn't return until they were making camp, appearing from the shadows without a word. He took the food Sian offered him but sat apart from the group, pointedly not looking at any of them.
No one suggested gathering around the fire for conversation. People ate quickly, separately, barely speaking. The usual routines of watch rotation and ward-setting happened with minimal interaction, everyone just wanting the day to be over.
Briar settled into the bedroll beside Eliam, feeling the exhaustion in every muscle. Three days of riding, three nights of tension, and they hadn't even reached the danger yet.
"Sleep," Eliam said quietly, pulling her against him. "Tomorrow will be better."
She wanted to believe him, but the tight set of his jaw suggested he didn't believe it either.
She closed her eyes and let exhaustion pull her under.
The throne room materialized around her with the logic of dreams—she wasn't walking toward it, she was simply there, standing before the autumn throne as if she'd always been there.
Malus sat in the seat that should have been Eliam's, one leg crossed over the other, looking perfectly at ease. The copper leaves in his hair caught the light from hundreds of candles that hadn't been burning a moment ago.
"There you are," he said, his smile sharp. "I was beginning to think you'd learned to hide from me."
Briar's hand went to her throat, to the marks that suddenly burned like brands. "No. This isn't real."
"Isn't it?" He stood, descending the dais with predatory grace. "You're here. I'm here. Seems real enough to me."
She tried to step back and found she couldn't move her feet. The marks flared hotter, holding her in place.
