Tiana’s smile turns unhinged.
“I want you to help me kill them. All of them.” She tilts her head. “And I think it’s time you saw what the Summer Sword actually does. Don’t you?”
Whispen makes a sound that might be laughter or might be breaking glass.
“The scholar wants to play with swords now. Sharp things, bright things, things that cut and bleed.” His violet glow pulses with something like anticipation. “Let’s see if the sword plays back. But shhhh, they will hear you.”
I follow behind Tiana quietly. She moves through the forest barely disturbing a spider. I do my best to follow behind her, but I was never overtly graceful.
The encampment is exactly where she said it would be.
We approach from downwind, moving through the Dark Forest in silence. Tiana moves like a shadow herself. Not Kieran’s shadows, but something subtler.
Whispen dims himself to near-invisibility, just a faint shimmer at the edge of my vision. Even his voice goes quiet.
I count the figures around the central fire. Twelve Fae. Eight humans. Mixed armor, mixed weapons, the kind of cobbled-together force that speaks to coin rather than loyalty.
“Twenty,” I murmur. “You failed to mention there were twenty.”
“I said half. I counted twelve three days ago.”
“Reinforcements.”
“Or another team joining up.” Her jaw tightens. “They do that sometimes. Combine forces before hitting larger settlements.”
I feel Ash again, brighter through the bond. I can’t tell if something’s wrong or very right. The distance makes everything muddy.
“We’re outnumbered,” I observe. “Significantly.”
“We have the Summer Sword.”
“Which Amarantha controls.”
“Which Amarantha thinks she controls.” Tiana turns to face me fully. “Tell me, scholar. In all your centuries of research, did you ever discover why the Four Treasures were created?”
I blink at the non sequitur. “To serve the Wild Court. To channel and focus royal power?—”
“To work together.” She cuts me off. “The Spear of Truth. The Crown of Destiny. The Cauldron of Life. The Stone of Fál. FourTreasures, designed to function as a unit. Separately, they’re powerful. Together, they’re unstoppable.”
“I’m aware of the theory?—”
“It’s not theory.” She steps closer. “You carry the Crown. The Summer Sword is bound to your chest. One of the Four, plus the sword, and you’ve never once tried to use them in harmony.”
“How do you?—”
She holds up a hand. “Save it. I know you have the crown.”
Because using them means acknowledging what I am. What I carry. What Amarantha did to me when she carved the sword into my sternum and called it love.
“The Crown shows possibilities,” Tiana continues. “Branching futures. Paths not yet taken. And the Sword cuts through to the truth of things, including the truth of what’s about to happen.” Her eyes gleam. “Together, Finnian. The Crown shows you every move your enemy will make before they make it. The Sword gives you the speed and precision to counter each one. Do you understand what that means?”
I understand.
It means Amarantha has been sitting on the most dangerous weapon in all of Faerie and using it to fetch her tea.
“She doesn’t know,” I breathe.
“She knows the Treasures are powerful. She doesn’t know how they work together. The knowledge was lost when the Wild Court fell.” Tiana’s smile turns vicious. “But my mother knew. And she taught me.”
