C aduan did not want humans anywhere near Ela’Dar, so we were the ones to travel to Threll. We used magic to get there, Caduan slipping us

through nothingness in several leaps. Strange, how much had changed in five hundred years. In my first life, such magic was not used by the Fey. Not everyone had the ability to travel this way, although Fey who couldn’t were able to with the help of some supplemental potions. Fey magic now, I had noticed, relied heavily on the use of potions and enhancements.

We leapt through Ela’Dar, then Besrith, then parts of Threll, until we arrived at the designated meeting place.

Before our sight even returned to us, there was the smell, so intense it made my eyes water. Smoke and flesh and decaying bodies.

I identified it right away. I had been on many battlefields.

The Threllians had requested that we meet at the estate of one of their high-ranking Lords. But this place was nothing now but a burnt-out shell. Shattered white stone, bright and stark, nestled in nests of ash, surrounded us. The house before us had once been majestic, but was now nothing more than a gutted frame. The smoke was thick enough to choke the sun. Fires still burned in the distance. There was little movement.

Meajqa muttered a disgusted curse when we arrived. Luia’s lip curled. Caduan barely reacted, save for a single wrinkle over the bridge of his nose.

I did not tell them that a part of me sighed in relief at the familiarity of this sight. I had missed this. It was so much simpler, easier to understand, than Caduan’s court.

The humans were waiting for us, as was Iajqa, who had come to meet us here from her post in southern Threll. A human man and a woman

approached us, both wearing flowing white clothes, spotless despite the carnage. The man was tall and thin with dark hair, the woman young and petite with golden curls and large blue eyes. Lord and Lady Zorokov.

Immediately, I hated them. Their clothing reminded me of a room of white and white and white—reminded me of the angry, sad memories in Tisaanah’s mind.

“King Caduan. It is an honor to meet you in person at last,” Lord Zorokov said. He spoke in Thereni. I understood it, perhaps because of my history living in other bodies. They both bowed, though only with the top of their heads. “Thank you for meeting us.”

Caduan surveyed the wreckage. “What happened here?”

Lord Zorokov looked somewhat offended by his abruptness, but Lady Zorokov laughed. “I’ve heard that you have no patience for pleasantries. I appreciate that. Better to get business done.”

“It must be important business,” Meajqa grumbled, shooting a disdainful glance at a corpse to his left, “to ask our king to come stand among your dead.”

“Oh, not all of the dead are ours. But too many, sadly, are.” Her smile faded, and I recognized the look that replaced it—anger, hidden beneath the smooth skin of her pretty face. “We have told you many times of our… escalating challenges with the rebels.”

“Your rebelling slaves?” Caduan said, coldly.

Lord Zorokov, once again, looked insulted at Caduan’s tone. Lady Zorokov’s mouth tightened.

“The extremists who seek to collapse the nation of Threll and slaughter our children,” she said. “The ones that you have refused to help us put down.”

“We sent one of our highest-ranking generals to hunt down the leadership of your rebel groups,” Meajqa said.

“With all respect, we both know that the only reason you sent her was because Tisaanah Vytezic stole from you,” Lord Zorokov said. “Not out of any sense of loyalty to us.”

“And their leadership slipped away regardless. The consequences of which are… dire.” Lady Zorokov spread her arms, gesturing to the city wreckage. “Behold, the consequence of inaction, King Caduan.”

“Your slaves did this?” Meajqa said, his voice going sour at the word “slaves.”

My ears pricked.

Tisaanah—did Tisaanah do this?

“The extremists did this, yes. Over the last six months, they have been successfully capturing and turning small outposts and villages. Of course, we were concerned, but those followings were nothing compared to the might and strength of Threllian leadership. But four days ago, they launched an attack on this estate. Their violent and underhanded tactics, dishonorable by Threllian law, gave them a temporary advantage.”

Lady Zorokov beckoned. She led us up cracked marble steps, into the swaying shell of what must have once been the estate’s central home. Only the tile floor was still intact—a sun design of silver and piercing sapphire blue.

At the center of the circle lay six human corpses. A wrinkled old woman and an equally old man beside her. A woman with dark hair and a man with greying temples. A young woman. A child. All were somewhat green, their bodies bloated and misshapen. They wore white, stained red.

“The Asmiroffs were kind people and respected Threllian nobility,” Lady Zorokov said. “They did not deserve such horrible deaths. They were tortured for hours by their own beloved slaves, while they listened to the rebels take control of their city from outside their walls, helpless.” She knelt beside the bodies, stroking the young woman’s blonde hair. Her voice was brittle when she spoke again. “My sister was found in a room alone, ripped to pieces. I imagine what it must have been like for her, to wonder if her children were being subjected to the same torture that she was.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Caduan said. “And I sympathize with your grief.”

“Thank you.” Lady Zorokov remained kneeling at her sister’s corpse.

I looked out over the horizon. The decimation extended in all directions.

Meajqa did the same. I wondered if we were thinking the same thing. “How did this happen?” he asked.

Lord Zorokov’s face hardened. “We burned the city,” he said. “Fire and Aran lightning dust.”

“You burned it instead of retaking it?”

I could see how Meajqa would be a talented diplomat. He carefully layered the judgement in his voice, coating it with enough honey to mask

the bitterness, however pungent.

“Retaking it would have been… costly,” Lord Zorokov replied. “Better for it to burn than to remain in the hands of the extremists.”

Meajqa and Luia exchanged a glance of shocked disgust. But I was not surprised. This was what humans did. They destroyed what they could not have. So many times, they used me to do it.

I rubbed my palm, where the flower had sat mere hours ago. “Why have you brought us here?” Caduan said.

Lady Zorokov rose, her grief replaced with a rueful smile. “We have been accommodating with your requests. As we should! We are honored, after all. For your people to come out of centuries of hiding and immediately ally with Threll… well, power attracts power. Our peoples have many differences, but I see many similarities, too.”

Luia looked a bit sickened by this comparison.

“However, I’m afraid we have a problem. We have given you tens of thousands of soldiers, sent them to Ara’s reaches—”

“You had equal interest in staving off Ara’s advancement in Threll,” Meajqa pointed out. “We discussed this at length.”

“That is partly true, but we also would not have earned Ara’s ire if we hadn’t allied with the Fey. Now tens of thousands of our most skilled soldiers are fighting a war on your behalf, while our most respected Lords are being murdered in their own homes by sewer rats.”

Lord Zorokov leveled a hard stare at Caduan. “We have fought your war for you, all while you send barely a handful of Fey soldiers and some of your… creations to the south. This cannot continue. We need to divert focus from Ara and deal with the rebels once and for all.”

He said it like his word was law. He flicked a cold glance to me, and I almost snarled at him.

“Besides, this too would be mutually beneficial,” Lady Zorokov added. “Seeing as the rebels have stolen the mysterious item that holds such high importance to you… even if, sadly, you haven’t trusted us with its significance.”

Such sweet, poisoned words.

“What do you propose?” Meajqa asked, tightly.

“The rebels are weak,” Lord Zorokov said. “They’re slaves, after all. Poorly educated, and physically inferior. But one of their greatest weaknesses is also their greatest strength—their decentralization. There are

many of them, and they move quickly, finding new strongholds like vermin moving to a new nest. There is no single head for us to sever. If we strike in one place, they will retreat and regroup before we can flush them out, and soon there will be another attack in another district of Threll. But we can wipe them out all at once with one powerful attack. We strike all four of their key strongholds at the exact same time. They’ll have no time to run, regroup, or warn.” His gaze swept over the four of us. “But to do this, we need power.”

“Pull your forces from the south, then,” Iajqa said.

“We need more than that. We need magic. Give us ten thousand Fey soldiers. At least half of them skilled in magic use. That number is a mere fraction of the Threllian soldiers who have assisted you against Ara.”

“I can offer shades,” Caduan replied, without hesitation.

“The shades are not enough. They lack intelligence. We need warriors. Magic Wielders. There are few Wielders in Threll, and too many of those that are here are among the rebels. This is non-negotiable.”

Iajqa’s jaw went tight. “Watch your tone,” she said, in a low voice.

“We mean no disrespect.” Again, Lady Zorokov smiled. “We only intend to set out a clear request.”

“I appreciate your honesty,” Caduan said, “but, sadly, I must deny it.” The Zorokovs did not look pleased with this response.

“You came to us asking for Threll’s alliance with the promise of all the power of the Fey kingdom,” Lord Zorokov said. “Yet you have barely shown us such power. Your shades are weaker than they once were. You speak of a skilled army of warriors, but we’ve barely seen them.”

Caduan’s facial expression did not change. “I promised that I would bring your enemies to their knees, and I intend to uphold that vow.”

“We’ve never doubted that, but we have given thousands of Threllian lives and property to your cause while you have given us… what, exactly?” “You wish to build an empire that stands for an age,” Meajqa said, sweetly. “We have already done it. Trust that our friendship is very valuable

to you. We will offer you more support in the future.”

“Look around. We don’t have that much time. Our empire is falling

now.” Lady Zorokov gestured to the wreckage.

“I urge you to take some time to consider it, King Caduan,” Lord Zorokov said. “If you cannot uphold your end of our alliance, I cannot promise that we can uphold ours.”

“SNAKES,” Meajqa spat, the moment the Zorokovs were out of earshot. “All of them. They burned their own people in that city. And then for them to make those kinds of disrespectful demands of you—”

“We can’t afford to be hotheaded, nephew,” Iajqa said. She looked to Caduan. “We may be forced to consider granting their request. Even if we give them half of what they asked for, they might be assuaged.”

“Are you prepared to lay thousands of your warriors at their feet?” Caduan shook his head; the answer was already evident to him.

It was evident to me, too.

“A few rebel slaves will not result in significant loss of life,” Iajqa replied. “It will earn us their goodwill. And raiding the rebel strongholds might help us find the wayfinder.”

“Tisaanah Vytezic is no longer with the rebels. If she isn’t there, we won’t find the wayfinder there either.”

“Then are you any closer to locating it?” Iajqa’s voice carried a hint of irritation, and Caduan winced.

“Not yet. But I can.”

His eyes flicked toward me briefly before looking away.

“My King—” Iajqa exhaled sharply. “I’ve been out here for six months. I’m as disgusted by the Threllians as you are, but I also see how much we depend on their numbers every single day. We can’t afford to lose their support. And they aren’t the sort to amicably part ways. If they stop being our allies, they’ll swiftly become our enemies—and unlike Ara, they’re not an ocean away. We either act against them or keep the Threllians content. I don’t think we’re prepared for the former. Not yet.”

“I understand. Trust that I am fully aware of the consequences of this decision. And trust that if I’m making it, I’ve considered our options.” I tried to ignore the way his gaze drifted to me, though I could feel it like a physical touch. “We have options.”