I’d been twiddling my fucking thumbs.
His growl cut me off as I approached. “Leave.”
I clenched my fists, forcing my voice to stay level. “What is Elias Wylder doing here? Dropping his henchman off like a glorified babysitter for us?”
He didn’t even flinch, raising his glass of whiskey to his lips like I hadn’t spoken at all.
“After what he’s done? What are you thinking—”
He spun around before I could finish, towering over me, his face inches from mine. “Don’t you dare question my fucking decisions, soldier!”
I swallowed. Although invisible, flames were crackling in the space between us. River growled under her breath. Sweat slid down my spine. Father is the only miserable scum who can make me tuck my tail between my legs and cower. I lowered my eyes.
“I apologize, fath—”
“You want to march in here acting like you’re the War Chief? In that case, it’sGeneralto you.”
The room fell deathly silent, my heartbeat the only sound in my ears.
I clenched my jaw, forcing the words out evenly. “I apologize, General. I am simply uncertain why General Wylder burst into our war room and left one of his soldiers behind.” I lifted my gaze to his. “After everything he’s done to our family.”
Father’s throat worked as he swallowed, nostrils flaring. The unyielding brick wall he’d built between us stood tall, never showing a sliver of humanity.
“His sons are here. One is being held in a cell. If we want to combine our efforts with his legion, this is the way. Our civility is nonnegotiable. Am I clear?”
Clear as the mud I just internally rolled my eyes in.
Father turned back to the map, stepping aside just enough to grant me access. I approached and leaned over the table. With the sun setting, warm candlelight filled the hut. Spread before us was a detailed map of the Hollow’s borders, marked with precise notes—circles, arrows, and a sharp X showing where Scarlet had been found.
A guard set an empty glass down beside me. Without a word, I reached for the carafe of whiskey, which doubled as a makeshift weight to hold the curling corner of the map. The scent filled my nostrils, a calming sensation I’d never admit out loud. Father rarely drank, but when he did, it was this whiskey of sweet oak and spice.
“We need intel from Shayde Wylder,” Father said. “The longer he refuses to talk, the more suspicious I grow of his continued involvement with Reyes.”
I flinched at the sound of that witch’s name. Most of Scarlet’s memories were blocked through themarekem—either she’d figured out how to shield them, or she hid them from me without meaning to. Still, I’d seen enough of what happened that day on the mountain peak.
With a long-lost shard of the Mareki, Cora Reyes drained the lives of two Mageian professors, stealing their elements to feed her own power. Her true aim on that mountain was Scarlet’s fire—her final step toward becoming an archmage.
“We’ll proceed with our plan to infiltrate Mageia,” Father said, taking a long sip of whiskey. “But we must confirm whether she was working alone—or if someone else on this side of the Barrens is involved.”
“General Wylder just delivered word of another murder at Mageia.”
Father tensed, his finger tapping against his glass. “Another damn spy.”
I swallowed hard. “What if there’s also one in the Hollow?”
Father scoffed. “Impossible. Everyone here has been part of the Hollow for years. They’ve cleared rigorous tests—several times over.”
No outsiders had been welcomed into our community in years. Still, there had been a breach in our wards, which made me believe it had to be an inside job.
“Things change. You know as well as I do that the magic fueling our wards could only have been tampered with internally. We need to examine this from a different angle. There must be a charlatan hiding in plain sight,” I pressed.
His fists curled against the table, his jaw tensing. “Scarlet Thorne is a missing piece of what we need to move on. If only you weren’t so incompetent and had gotten to her sooner—before she was harmed so severely and put into a comatose state,” he spat with disdain.
“She’s awake,” I admitted reluctantly.
Father lifted his glass and took a sip. “Where did I go wrong?”
Bemusement held my tongue. But not for long. I gasped as Father flipped the table. The map, carafe, and glasses flew, shattering across the room.
