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“Whether for mana or for weapons, the fact that they’re forging anything at all does not sit well with me,” said Tartanis. “Especially given what the dark sorcerer is already capable of doing to his followers.”

Kit grimaced. “You’ve experienced the result of Malakar’s twisted blood oath too, then.”

Raefe’s expression darkened. “Unfortunately.”

A moment of unsettling silence passed between them, the only sounds coming from Sephone as she helped herself to another drink. That was when Kit realized another air barrier had been put in place, blocking out any of the lingering noises occurring from elsewhere within the Gryphon—if that’s even where they were anymore.

“Well? Wasn’t there something you wanted to ask me?” Kit said after a few moments. “You might as well get it over with. That way, I can get on with telling you no and being on my way.”

Tartanis’s mouth tipped up on one side, and Kit couldn’t help noting the familiarity of the movement. “Must I spell it out for you? I want to see my daughter.”

Kit scoffed. “We all want things we cannot have.”

“There she goes, being cute again,” Sephone piped in, raising her glass in cheers.

“But what if you could have it?” Tartanis narrowed his emerald eyes. “What if I told you I could help you get everything it is you seek, everything your uncle refuses, if only you help me in return?”

Protestation was right there on the tip of Kit’s tongue, but something kept her from speaking it aloud. And when she didn’t say anything, Tartanis continued.

“You want to smoke out the cultists hiding across Arcanis. You want to unseat Malakar from his position of power, want to figure out his end goal, and want him to pay for what he has done. You want to protect the peoples of Arcanis. You need soldiers to do that.”

“And you may be a powerful man yourself, sir, but if you’re trying to tell me you have an army at your disposal⁠—”

“Not my army.”

Kit blinked at him. Raefe shifted on his feet. Sephone took another sip of her drink.

“Your uncle is hesitant, but hesitance can be overcome with the appropriate motivation.” Tartanis lifted a small silver teapot from the tray sitting beside him and filled two cups. He slid one closer to Kit, who pointedly ignored it, then drank from the other. “And I am nothing if not an excellent motivator.”

“If he wouldn’t listen to me, what makes you think he’ll listen to you?” What is more motivating than family? Kit wanted to add, but even she knew how naive it would sound.

Like he heard it anyway, Tartanis said, “Because I will not appeal to his heart, nor some misplaced sense of familial duty. I will simply appeal to his interests.”

“Meaning?”

“No need to concern yourself with the particulars.” He waved his hand, then took another sip of tea. “Just be confident that I have my ways of persuading the king, and while I would never abuse this privilege”—he ignored the way Kit immediately snorted—“I would be willing to call in certain debts for this.”

“For an audience with Elyria,” Kit said skeptically. “That’s it? That’s your price?”

“For now,” he said with a nod.

Kit wanted to laugh. Wanted to jump up, spit in his tea, then in his face. She wanted to turn on her heel and fly straight to Elderglade. But in her mind’s eye, she saw Ignatius and Tyrren, with their reddening eyes and twisting bones. She saw Evander, eyes black and wings shredded. And she saw Elyria, the agony on her face, the shadowy restraints wrapped around her limbs, her wings being sliced from her back.

Kit could not pass up this chance, no matter how slim, to protect the rest of Arcanis from Malakar’s evil, could she?

That isn’t what Elyria would want, was it?

Fucking bloodlines, she thought.

She sucked in a breath. “Unfortunately, your request isn’t something that is within my power to grant. Elyria is not a bargaining chip to trade for doing what is right.” Kit paused. Tilted her head to one side, then the other. Considered. “But . . . I can ask.”

Tartanis set down his teacup. “That is all I want.”

“And if she says no? Or, if she says yes but only so she can tell you to fuck right back off to Coralith? What happens to your promise?”

“I am a man of my word, Lady Ravenswing. I will hold up my end. And anyway, I have no desire to live in the world Malakar wants to rewrite. The opportunity to finally reconnect with my dark star would be a blessing, but it is not my only motivation.”

Kit narrowed her eyes. “I’ll tell her,” she said after a moment, pulling the words off her tongue like she was pulling teeth. “I’ll tell her what you’ve offered and that you want to see her. But don’t be surprised if I also tell her I think you’re a manipulative asshole and she doesn’t owe you a stars-damned thing.”