“No.” I tear at the collar, but the stupid thing won’t budge. I can’t stay here. If what he says is true, and I am part of some prophecy, I’ve doomed everyone back home. My peoplewill suffer, and my home will be reduced to ruins. I can’t let that happen.
“Behave,” he warns, yanking the leash again. “You made your choice.”
His grip is absolute. With that final verdict, he hauls me to my feet. I stagger after him, terror and regret twisting inside me.
Fynn was never here. At least I freed Aradia.
As Kosac drags me toward the looming castle, I glare at him. “What happens to Aradia?”
“Her soul will go to Heaven,” he replies, without breaking stride.
“I can’t even speak to her? I deserve to say goodbye.”
He chuckles—so wrong for something so inhuman. “That was never part of our arrangement. But if you stop fighting me, maybe I’ll let it happen as a reward for your obedience.”
It takes everything in me to hold my fucking tongue.
I can’t believemy eyes. It’s Fynn.
Isolde hovers ahead, frozen. I slide past her and stop suddenly. There, huddled among tangled ivy and thorny bushes, is a small boy. I almost pinch myself, fearing it’s a dream. But it’s him—Fynn—unruly hair, freckled nose, olive skin smeared with blood and dirt. His arms are wrapped tightly around his knees, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.
He recoils, not seeming to recognize me.
For a few seconds, I’m cemented in place—overwhelmed by too many frantic thoughts at once.
Go to him.
Get a healer.
Find Anselm.
Isolde slowly—careful so not to startle him—kneels in front of him. “It’s okay. My name is Isolde. This is Jaxson. We’re Blades—you’re safe now.”
It takes every ounce of strength not to pull Isolde back, to take over, tell her I’m Fynn’s father. He’s terrified enough already. The best thing for him is Isolde’s soothing touch. She’s in pain. They can comfort each other, and I can update Soter so that he knows Fynn is safe now. He’s with me.
“Can you tell me if you’re hurt?” Isolde asks in a soft voice, kinder than I’ve ever heard.
Fynn stays silent. Isolde and I exchange an uneasy glance.
I fumble for my phone, hands shaking, and send a quick message to Soter. He can hear a shout from here, but I don’t dare startle Fynn more.
Jaxson
Dropping my location, come quick. We found the missing boy. Bring Chiara Dunn.
When I look up again, Isolde has coaxed Fynn into her arms. He clings to her; tiny fists balled in her shirt. Tears sting my eyes when his eyes meet mine, and they flare with recognition. I give him a reassuring smile that saysI’m here.
Fucking hell, I thought I’d lost him forever.
But how is Fynn here? We assumed the Dullahan dragged him to Mictlan. Unease trickles down my spine. I scan the shifting darkness among the trees, suddenly hyperaware.
Something left him here. Something—or someone—could still be nearby.
“We shouldn’t stay out here,” I tell Isolde, my voice low. “We need to get him someplace warm.”
“This is a crime scene, Jaxson. We wait for Soter. Until then, no one moves,” she says, steady as ever. “We need a healer. Call?—”
“Already done.”
