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“Well, not necessarily. All he knows is it seems like something is going on there. It’s hard to ask questions without drawing attention to himself, and he’s been doing a decent enough job of blending in. He doesn’t want to jeopardize it. But the castle is still sealed and⁠—”

“What does that mean, ‘sealed?’ Like, off-limits?”

Sephone blinked at her. “Like, physically. Magically. Like Aurelia cast a barrier around the entire palace as soon as everyone exited after the Crucible. Nobody’s been able to get back in. The city’s limping along, resettled, rejuvenated. But the castle itself? It’s little more than a giant monument at this point.”

Kit began pacing. “No one in? No one out?”

“Evidently, it gives folks quite the little zap if they get too close. Raefe says the human younglings had turned it into a bit of a game in the beginning—a game of dares.” She shook her head with a laugh. “The bravado of youth is a universal thing, it would seem.”

Kit thought about how Elyria had described Elderglade being similarly warded when she’d tried to enter the sanctuary the first time. “Certainly sounds celestial.”

“Sure does. But still, Raefe says there have been some . . . questionable developments, especially recently. Folks he’d flagged as being of interest disappearing around corners, failing to emerge for hours at a time. He hasn’t actively seen anyone go inside, but . . .”

“I see,” Kit said. She fell back into her chair with a heavy sigh. “What could Malakar be planning inside Castle Lumin, though? The Gate is sealed, Aurelia’s power locked away. The cult has gone underground, aside from what we learned while traveling here.”

“What did you learn? What are his followers doing?”

Kit tilted her head. “Didn’t catch that part with your oh-so-skilled eavesdropping?”

Sephone made a face, then gestured for Kit to continue.

“We ran into a pair of cultists outside Daeglen. And after a bit of . . . creative questioning by Cedric⁠—”

“Good little prince,” said Sephone with a smirk.

“—we learned a few things. Apparently Malakar has assigned some of his followers to spots throughout Arcanis in order to keep tabs on the mana springs. The men said they had to provide regular reports, but that was it. They wanted nothing to do with Malakar or the cult outside of the safety and privileges it provided. They were going to abandon him.”

“And you believed them?”

“Well, I didn’t at first. But yes, eventually. Especially after . . .”

“After what?”

“Something happened when the men were exposed to Cedric’s magic. They changed. Turned monstrous. Malakar has done something with the oaths his followers swear, and whether because of their intent to desert or simply because they realized they were in the presence of Daephinia’s heir, they . . .” Kit chewed on the inside of her cheek. “We had to put them down.”

At that, Sephone’s cool composure finally seemed to snap, and she launched to her feet. “Well, there you have it. You asked what Malakar is planning? What he’s always sought to do. Orchestrate our downfall. Fight his way to more power, with less constraint. The bastard wants the world of Arcanis bent to his will and all Arcanians either burned to ash or bowing at his feet. And he’s obviously more than happy to sacrifice and mutilate his followers in order to do it.”

Several moments of tense silence fell over the room, eventually punctuated by Sephone’s humorless laugh. “This war is closer than I thought. And Master Tartanis is very motivated to stave it off. So whatever you need, if we can provide it, it’s yours.”

Something was poking Kit in the back of her mind, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. “Surely war is a profitable time for a criminal like him. Why exactly is he so motivated? I understand a father wanting to rescue his daughter, but for this father to do so at the potential expense of his own gain? To undermine his sovereign and risk his position of privilege with the king?” A thought occurred. “How much does Tartanis know about Cedric? Does he know about his bond with Elyria?”

For the first time since their conversation began, Sephone averted her eyes.

“I see. Of course.” Kit barked a laugh. “Why bother keeping up pretenses with the king of one realm, when he might have the future king of all Arcanis as a son-in-law?”

Sephone sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, but at least she wasn’t foolish enough to refute it.

And Kit, well, she didn’t think it much mattered that Cedric clearly had no intention of even facing the reality of his lineage, let alone taking up that mantle. Which, to be fair, was probably a quality that would serve him well in the role. Still, she didn’t love the idea of the knightling being used as a bargaining chip, and she knew damn well that Elyria would fucking hate it.

But if King Lachlandris was going to withhold help, wasn’t Tartanis their best chance of getting her back? At least that way, Elyria might have the opportunity to express said hatred to her father herself. And with his help, maybe they actually stood a chance of finding out more about Malakar’s plans, of finally being able to get a single foot ahead of the dark sorcerer.

Images flashed through Kit’s mind, each one the opposite of the memory that came before it, like a flipball pinging back and forth between players.

Elyria, mid-laugh, those emerald eyes shining.

Her wings, bloody and limp on the ground.

Thraigg lifting an overflowing mug in cheers.