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It was Rodhi who stepped forward, and all eyes darted to him.

He cleared his throat. “They told me she had a ‘lair’ filled with what they described as keys like bones. Of course, after they stole one of those keys to help someone escape, Dyonisia heightened security and they were never able to get back in.” At that, he shot a glare over my head, and I followed his gaze to find Agathea wiggling her fingers, a crown of moths and bats and owls circling her head.

“Have them lead us there,” Coen said quickly.

From the way his shoulders twitched, veins bulging in his arms as he kept one hand on me and the other on Old Veracious, I knew he wouldn’t have any trouble cutting down this so-called heightened security. Death and destruction radiated from him, especially when his glance fell upon my neck, where there was probably a bruise, then my fingertips and right shoulder.

It would be pointless to try to convince him I was okay. And at that moment, a torrent of clicking voices filled the hallway.

A few humans and faeries shrieked as hundreds of spiders of all shapes and sizes came scuttling from cracks in the walls. They flowed around Rodhi, hissing out words that every Wild Whisperer in the room understood—and therefore Coen through his connection with me.

“This way.”

“Over here.”

“To her lair.”

Like a dark, bristled river, they began to cut a path deeper into the prison.

This was it.

Pulling away from Coen felt like ripping off a bandage, but I did so to turn to Bren Pixton with renewed urgency cracking through me.

“Can you get yourself and the rest of the prisoners out?” Behind him, Don was tottering on his feet—as were so many others who’d been living in this festering underground for so long. Even Gileon was leaning heavily on Wren, who’d begun to buckle under his weight. “There’s a ship you can board to stay safe.”

Bren raised his eyebrows at the mention of a ship, but apparently decided not to question it. He gave me a jerk of his head, then gestured at the other prisoners to follow him against the tide of the spiders still streaming inward.

“Gileon, too,” I whispered at Wren, who cast me a relieved nod and hobbled after them, Gil’s arm slung around her shoulder. “And you,” I added when I noticed that Don had stayed rooted to the spot with a stubborn clench of his fists.

“If you think I’m leaving this rotten place without you…”

“Dad.” I’d so rarely called him that that his mouth snapped shut. “The safest place for you is on that ship, but the safest place for me is with him.”

I nodded at Coen, and Don furrowed his eyebrows. For too many seconds, his ruddy face scrunched with obvious judgment, his mouth opening as if to scold the both of us for kissing on his front porch late at night. He couldn’t possibly know what we’d gone through together or what it meant to be vigates, but he seemed to sense the strange energy pulsing and twining around us anyway.

With an exhale, he wagged a finger in Coen’s face. “You bring my daughter back to me in one piece, you hear?” Even raspy and broken, his voice held all the smelting heat I’d grown up hearing. “Take good care of her, or else I’ll make good use of all my shovels back at home.”

Coen dipped his head, a smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from someone who raised her.”

Don grunted, planted a quick kiss on my cheek, and limped off after the last of the prisoners. It was only when he was out the door that Coen’s thoughts turned back to me, his smile slipping away as a tremor ran down my legs.

Listen, Rayna…

Don’t even think about telling me to go with him, I warned.

I wouldn’t dream of it. He tucked a curl behind my ear. I’m not letting you out of my sight anyway. Just… let me do the heavy lifting.

To that, I could agree. When he grasped my hand, it was his unrelenting grip and the tether between us that imbued me with enough strength to start forward, following Rodhi and the rest of his spiders while the rest of our army followed us, all our footsteps drumming like thunder.

Down a different stairwell. Across narrower hallways. Through doors and around corners and into a new corridor blanketed in utter darkness.

The Element Wielders cast orbs of light over our heads, revealing—

“By the feather and the fang,” Lander breathed out behind us, just as Barberro and Kanuk cursed in their respective languages and several others gasped.

“Okay.” Rodhi’s hands shot up. “As much as I’d love to take credit for this, it wasn’t me.”