“There’s a difference between the perfect moment and basic tactical sense.”
Vel slams one hand down onto the table. “Three hundred years, Kaelith. Three hundred years of your tactical sense. How many fae are still in cages?”
“Fewer than there would be if I’d gotten us all killed in the first century.”
“You don't know that.”
“I know what happens when fae get reckless. I’ve buried the ones who couldn’t wait, who thought one bold strike would change everything.” His voice hardens. “I won’t bury you too.”
“I’m not asking for your protection.”
“No. You're asking me to watch you throw yourself at a fortress and pretend it’s strategy. Every reckless attack that fails makes it worse for the ones left behind. Do you think the huntmasters don’t retaliate when fae try to escape? Do you think they don’t take it out on the ones who can’t run?” Kaelith stands, his composure cracking. “Every fae in this network. Every safe house. Every human sympathizer I’ve cultivated over three centuries … I amnotgoing to risk all those people, because you want to burn it all down for one dramatic gesture!”
“I want to fight! I want to do something besides watch our people rot while we make plans that don’t go anywhere.”
The way she arched into me, her breath catching, her fingers digging into my shoulders?—
I drag my attention back. Kaelith is on his feet now.
“And I want us to be still alive next year to keep fighting! You think I don’t want blood? You think I haven’t spent all this time dreaming about burning every preserve to the ground? Because I have. But I’ve also spent that time watching what happens when we’re reckless. I won’t be the one to add our names to that list, Vel.”
Vel stares at him. Her fingers have curled into fists at her sides, and her eyes are bright with fury.
“You weren’t in the cages.” Her voice turns quiet. Somehow, that’s worse than the shouting. “You don’t know what it was like.”
“No, I don’t.” Kaelith meets her gaze without flinching. “But I do know what it was like to watch from the outside. To know our people were suffering and not be able to reach them. I know how it feels to have spent years building this network piece by piece, knowing it would never be enough, but doing it anyway, because it was all I could do.” He pauses, his voice softening. “We all have our prisons, Vel.” He waves a hand toward Sorel and Vessara. “Ours just didn’t have bars.”
I turn away, my eyes finding the window. Therin should have Alleria outside of the village by now. He’s likely already summoned Kaethros.
“Cairn.”
It’ll take two days for them to reach the palace. I need to put something in place before then, because if a mage tries to get inside her mind … Sending her back was a mistake. I knew it when I gave Therin the order, and I know it now. But it was the only thing I had to offer her in return for what I took.
“Cairn.”
I blink and refocus.
“Ivylock.” Every head turns toward me. “Kaelith’s right. We can’t afford to announce ourselves before we’re ready. Ivylockgives us room to learn, room to make mistakes without dying for them.”
Vel’s eyes snap to mine. “You’re takinghisside?”
“I’m making a decision. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?” I hold her gaze. “Ivylock first.Thenthe others. We free them all, Vel. Every fae in every preserve. But we do it in an order that keeps us alive long enough to finish.”
“And how long do we wait? A month? A year? Another century while?—”
“Two months.” I cut her off. “Kaelith gathers information from his contacts. We learn everything we can about Ivylock. Two months of preparation, andthenwe make our move.”
Vel is silent, while she calculates possibilities, and whether the delay is worthwhile, then she nods.
“Two months. Not a day longer.”
“Agreed.”
“If we’re still having this conversation in sixty days, I’m going to Thornwood myself.”
“No, you won’t.”
“Try and stop me.”
