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And, for better or worse, he was Elyria’s father.

Tartanis had already made it clear that he wanted his daughter returned to him, and that was before she was even taken. Was it possible he might be willing to help, might have the resources Kit and company needed to finally get a real lead on her location? Was it possible he might already know something, might have already started looking? Was this wretched man the ally they needed?

The Kit of a few months ago would have laughed in the face of such thoughts. It made her feel itchy, like a treasonous splinter had wormed its way just under her skin. She wondered if she would ever be able to pluck it out, or if it would stay there, festering, until it turned into a proper wound.

She loved her uncle. Really, she did. Lachlandris Ravenswing was the one who had taken her flying when her mother told her to stay inside, who used to sneak her candied citrus slices before dinner, who once let her braid his hair and then wore the ridiculous result to court. He was a good man. She’d thought him a good king, once. But now . . .

“I really thought my uncle would . . .” Kit raked a hand down her face. “I thought if he knew everything that happened, he might⁠—”

“Everything? So you told him about how you already have both pieces of the crown? About Daephinia’s legacy and the fact that Cedric is actually the heir of⁠—”

“Shhh,” said Kit hastily, and Sephone smirked.

“Exactly. So, not everything, then. And don’t fret your royal little head about anyone overhearing. The wind, remember?” She waved her hand, and a breeze swept through the room, reminding her of the air wall that was in place.

“I suppose I have the wind to thank for you knowing about Cedric too, do I? I’d thought you had already taken off from Kingshelm before all that came out in the wake of the attack.”

“What I know is hardly important. What the king knows, on the other hand . . .”

“He knows more than enough to understand the scale of Malakar’s threat. At present, that’s all he needs.”

“Protective of your secrets, aren’t you?” Sephone almost sounded like she approved.

“Some secrets aren’t mine to tell.” Kit shrugged and sank farther into the plush chair. “Besides, you’re one to talk.”

“Me?” Sephone grinned. “I’m an open book. Try me.”

“Is Tartanis here? In Aerithia?”

Sephone’s eyes flashed victoriously. “Yes.”

“Does he know where Malakar is keeping her?”

“He has his suspicions.”

Kit jumped to her feet. “Then what are we⁠—”

“It’s not such a simple thing, Princess. Raefe has been following signs, but there hasn’t been anything substantive enough to⁠—”

The laugh that burst from Kit’s mouth was surely not the appropriate reaction, but she couldn’t help it. “Raefe? That’s your source of intelligence? Sorry, but you won’t find me inclined to believe anything that bastard says.”

“Spoken like a true sister,” Sephone said with a nod. “And believe me, I’m just as horrified by Raefe’s former behavior with the Revenant⁠—”

“I doubt that,” Kit grumbled.

“—but Master Tartanis has already punished him for his transgressions . . . many times over.” She bit her lip, a crease forming between her brows that had Kit wondering just what else Raefe had been subjected to beyond a torn ear and a demotion.

Kit hated the prickle of pity that rippled through her at the thought. She also hated the flicker of gratitude that followed it, knowing that Master Tartanis had, in his own twisted way, been trying to look out for Elyria. But along with that spark of relief came a greater wave of disgust, because whether his motivations for doing so were fatherly or self-serving—most likely both—he was still the cause of so much of Elyria’s pain. And that was something Kit would never be able to forgive.

“What are these suspicions, then?” Kit asked, swallowing the unkind words threatening to throw themselves off her tongue. “Where is Raefe now?”

“Luminaria,” Sephone said simply.

“He’s in the Lost City?”

“It’s hardly lost anymore, you may remember. The humans have resettled within the walls of the city quite well since the Crucible ended. But yes, Raefe has been there since Elyria kicked him out of our travel party en route to Dawnspire.” She smiled, like she was recalling a fond memory, then grimaced, as though remembering what actually happened when they got to the village. The swarms of sanguinagi that had ambushed their party had left Sephone broken and bleeding.

Kit’s heart was suddenly hammering in her chest. “And that’s where . . . he thinks Elyria is being held too?”