“She’s not a recruit,” Alistair yelled back at Crag. He searched her face again, his expression questioning if she was all right. Sera could only nod. “She’s not even in the Legion, Crag.”

  Alistair charged straight for the squad leader, gripping the warlock by the collar.

  One by one, the other members picked up their daggers. A few apologized.

  “I didn’t know,” Crag rasped out. “Captain, let me go.”

  Al let him fall to the ground.

  “You know them?” Finally, her words came forward.

  “Unfortunately,” Al said. “Meet the Kader Squad.” He pointed at the witches and warlocks surrounding them.

  She felt something scrape against the wall of her mind and directed what magic she had on the barrier around her memories. She scanned the witches and warlocks that surrounded them, trying to figure out which one it was. None of them looked directly at her, though.

  “Don’t worry, we won’t bite,” their leader said.

  Despite the attempt at reassurance, Sera wasn’t convinced. The Legion members’ movements were too jerky. The hollowness of being on the road for too long had set into each line of their faces, and the ones who did smile had a wide-eyed look about them.

  “The name is Crag.” The leader reached around Al, offering a soiled hand.

  “Eager, are we?” Al mumbled.

  “Not every day you see a beautiful witch on the road.”

  “Where are you coming from?” she asked.

  Al raised a brow at her.

  “East.”

  The shink of daggers being sheathed surrounded her. The squad members shifted side to side, seemingly ready to move on.

  “Near the Deadlands?” she asked. “Have you heard of any movement beyond?”

  Crag furrowed his brows at her. His curious look told her she’d maybe said too much, but Sera didn’t care. She needed information, and if the squad had been near the Deadlands, near anything that might resemble a doorway, she needed to mark it on her map and find more of them.

  “We have.” Crag turned from her and looked at Al.

  “You may speak freely. We’re on a mission for the Council.”

  The stained fabric of Crag’s coat crunched when he crossed his arms. “There is talk that Ceasefall has been reoccupied. Rumbles of marching hordes have reportedly been felt below the surface. Something is brewing.”

  So she was right. The demons did move their armies through tunnels underground. It had only made the most sense. She’d read texts discussing the first battles; though speculation was minimal, they’d hinted at it. Most of the relevant pages were missing, as if the authors of those diaries didn’t want the information leaked.

  “Thank you, that’s useful. Can you tell us exactly where you felt the rumbling?” she asked the squad leader. He sucked on his teeth before answering.

  “South of Ironoak. Can’t quite say how far south—maybe a day or two’s travel?”

  “Thank you, that’s helpful,” Alistair said, crossing his arms. Clearly, he was ready for this conversation to be over.

  “We’ll be off, then.” Crag saluted Al.

  The troop walked past them, and Sera released a breath when the clawing around her memories ceased.

  “Crag,” Al called out to the squad leader. “Be mindful. A demon lord is hanging around Crowpass.”

  “Aye, Captain. We’ll journey south, then.”

  The two soldiers nodded to each other in farewell.

  “He’s below you in rank, then?” Sera asked Al, who’d already started eastward.

  “I’m the youngest captain in the Legion,” Alistair said so matter-of-factly that she would have thought the rank didn’t mean anything to him. But she noticed a tightness to his shoulders, a more stilted way of walking.

  “He’s so much older than you. How do they determine rank?”

  Alistair glanced at her over his shoulder, and his jaw flexed. Then he said, “By the depth of your well… and the number of demons you kill.”

  At mid-sun, they’d taken a break. Alistair was hunting for their evening meal somewhere deep in the forest. Sera settled at the trunk of a tree, the damp from decayed leaves seeping into her trousers. She leaned against the bark and took a moment to open her journal, enjoying the tweets and chirps of faraway birds.

  I have successfully seduced a lifeline reader to spy for me. You’re welcome. Also, let’s keep away from the demon lords for now? I really can’t handle losing a second Wildrick. Actually, that’s not true. Your mother could turn to dust for all I care.

  Sera responded.

  And here I thought you’d go through a dry spell without me to wing-woman for you. Funny how you don’t share your details.

  She could almost picture Dom’s indignation through the page. And oh, how she wished she could see it.

  A crashing of branches, breaking sticks, and whipping leaves had her snapping her barrier into place.

  Alistair emerged from a thicket holding a screeching green creature high above his head, then dropped the thing at her feet.

  The creature curled into a tight ball, its ears enormous compared to its tiny head. Large brown eyes almost bulged from their sockets, above a button nose and wide mouth.

  “I found it sniffing around.” Al crossed his arms, disgust on his face.

  A sickly-sweet smell of fear rolled off the creature.

  “A goblin?” Sera kept her voice low so as not to startle him.

  “You know what he is?”

  “I’m a keeper, remember?” The goblin held itself tighter and shivered. His brown eyes barely peeked over his protruding kneecaps. “It’s okay,” she said, softening her features. “Come here.” She extended her hand, holding out the piece of jerky Al had given her that morning. The goblin straightened his neck, and Sera dared to move closer. “It’s all right, little one, I won’t hurt you.”

  The goblin eyed the dried meat in her hand, then swiped it.

  “He must have been following us for a while,” Alistair offered. “I’ve been sensing demon magic for miles.”

  “I don’t know what’s more concerning, the fact that you can now smell demons or that you haven’t told me you’re sensing them.” She lifted her brow at him, and he glared at the ground.

  “Don’t feed it,” Alistair said.

  “He’s half starved.” Sera reached into her pack, looking for more food. “What’s your name?” she asked the little creature.

  “I doubt it speaks. They aren’t known for being the most intelligent beasts.” Alistair picked up his pack and swung it onto his shoulder. The wind swayed the crowns of the trees along the skyline.

  The goblin looked at Alistair and hissed.

  “I think he’s smart enough.” Sera giggled and patted his head. “Do you have a name?”

  “Sssssnnnnnnkkkkk,” the goblin sounded.

  “Ssnnkk?” Sera tried to repeat.

  “Sssnnniikkkk.”

  “Snik?” Sera asked. The goblin smiled. The corners of his mouth almost reached the base of his ears in an expression she assumed was supposed to be endearing.

  “All right, Snik. I can’t give you any more. We have to leave now.” Hoisting her pack onto her shoulder, she followed Alistair into the forest.

  Snik followed them for hours, prompting Alistair to comment multiple times on how terrible an idea it was to have him around. Whenever they heard a rustle, Sera would turn back and wink at the green beastie.

  “Stop encouraging him.”

  “Stop saying that,” Sera responded, her voice echoing through the dense forest as they continued on a deer path.

  “We don’t have time or resources to keep a pet,” Alistair countered while lifting a tree branch above his head and holding it for Sera to pass under. “Plus, he is considered a demon.”

  “He’s a creature in need. Not a pet. A being of Shadow.” If she had to insist on it, she would. She glanced back at the goblin, and he mimicked her wink from earlier and closed the distance between them.

  Snik seemed determined to accompany them along their path, and she wouldn’t turn him away.

  Chapter seventeen

  Dominick

  It was far too early. The sun had barely risen, coloring the clouds a violet gray. The angle of the sun, the hue of the clouds: It was unnatural, all of it. But here he was, witnessing the Citadel waking, when he should be fast asleep. The things he did for his friends.

  Dominick propped himself up against one of the pillars outside the grand pool to wait for Theo.

  Last night, after their date at Radost, he’d been enlightened, to say the least. It turned out that Theodore Sano wasn’t as shy as he’d made himself out to be, and even though they hadn’t made it all the way, they’d both finished the evening satisfied.

  He’d tried being his smooth self but couldn’t help the grin that crept across his face. Not only on the walk over, but also now. A job well done, if he dared say so.

  Theo had been in the pool, pulling, for half an hour, according to the sundial perched in front of the Ogdelo. It was a fickle business. Dominick had watched countless oracles complete the ritual during his three years here. Not every pull was successful, especially if the oracle had no ties to the person they were pulling. It took decades of practice. As far as he knew, Theo didn’t know Nora from any other witch in the coven.

  Yet a creeping thought kept slithering into his mind, saying that maybe Theo was avoiding him. Maybe it was because Nora couldn’t be found. Dom jerked his shoulders, shaking the thought away.

  Instead, he wondered what kind of kiss-ass oracles even came in this early. No one loved their occupation this much.

  Dominick lifted the back of his hand to hide his yawn, wondering if he could make it to a bakery before he was due back to check on the future squash harvest. He’d never been so grateful to stop staring at beans.

  The sound of quick steps on marble had him turning. Theo’s brows were creased. He was frowning and walking too quickly, as if he were…

  No.

  This couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t be dead. How was he going to tell Sera? Did Lavinia know? If Lavinia knew, he was pretty sure she would have found a way to burn down the Council chambers with the chairs inside. Poor Nora. Moons, Sera was going to kill him.

  Theo finally met his eyes. “No, no, it’s all right. She’s all right.”

  “Oh, thank Shadow.” Dominick breathed and curled forward, but there was still a frown on Theo’s face.

  “Her threads are strong, which means she’s not even badly injured. I almost can’t believe it.”

  Neither could Dom. Who knew that Nora could survive being captured? “You’re the fucking best.” Finally, he could relax, or at the very least be relieved that he didn’t have to break the news to Sera that something terrible had happened to her sister. He’d thank Shadow for that later.

  Theo rubbed his eyes, still frowning.

  “What else is wrong?” Dominick asked.

  “Nothing. Lifeline business.” Theo glanced back at the pool.

  “All right, spill it.”

  Theodore sighed, his gray robes rustling in the breeze as he turned toward the entrance. Dominick followed him, assessing his tight shoulders and brisk pace, wondering what could be so troublesome that they needed to leave the building. When they rounded the corner and were hidden in the shadow of the Ogdelo, Theo finally stopped.

  “Is there a reason we need to be sharing secrets in the shadows?” Dominick asked.

  “You know when you’re pulling what you have in your mind’s eye?”

  Dominick nodded. An oracle envisioned what they wanted to come forward. For him, working in weather and crops, he just had to think of the day. A thread would shoot out of the water, and he’d pull it and view what he needed. He assumed the same system worked for lifelines. You envisioned the name or the person, and they just popped forward.

  “I searched for Nora for a while. She was hazy at first. Then I started to search through those who encountered demons recently, and there were many.”

  Dom’s heart dropped. “Do I want to know what they were wearing?”

  Theo bit the pad of his thumb. “If you thought a Legion uniform, you’d be right.”

  Shit. He still hadn’t heard back from Colton, and if there had been a skirmish… Dominick itched below his ear. “Any fatalities?”

  “That wasn’t what I was searching for, but I assume so. I’m only telling you this to warn your friend.”

  Sera had already mentioned a demon lord. It was possible that a squad had gotten into a skirmish with him. It was on the tip of Dominick’s tongue to ask, but he paused. Was this even something he wanted to know?

  Determined to push that feeling down, Dominick did a quick scan of the area before grabbing the front of Theo’s robes and kissing him. The warlock’s sea-green eyes lit up for a second before closing. Dom didn’t typically participate in public displays of affection; honestly, the thought of being caught made his skin crawl. But he’d been thinking of the way Theo tasted on his lips ever since they left his apartment that morning.

  Dominick broke their kiss and observed the oracle before him. All oracles had light hair and eyes. They were linked to the recessive trait needed to view the threads in the water—at least that’s what the Council said. Having them almost guaranteed your placement as long as you had the power within you to manipulate the threads. But Theo’s tanned skin, sun-kissed against the blond of his hair, made him look otherworldly.

  “I’ve got to tell Sera. Meet me for dinner? I want to know what you find out.”

  Theo smiled. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Chapter eighteen

  Seraphina

  She’s alive.

  Those words, those beautiful words, lived on a single page in Sera’s journal. Dominick hadn’t elaborated further than that. He didn’t have to. Her baby sister was alive. Sera let out a trembling breath. She wanted to know everything Dom had uncovered, but it seemed like she’d have to wait for more information. It was going to be torture.

  Damp from dew, Sera shook off her sleep. Alistair was noticeably absent across the fires’ smoldering embers. And her new green friend, who had curled behind her knees and kept her warm all night, also seemed to be missing.

  Al’s pack and bedroll were still laid out, so he couldn’t have gotten far. Sera took a moment to relieve herself in peace. As she meandered between ferns beaded with large droplets of dew, dampening her boots, Sera was happy for a moment alone. To take in the wind and the swaying branches of the canopy above. To appreciate the way the sunlight danced through the trees. Normally, Sera would have wished for her cloak in the chill of the shadows, but her sister was alive, and the brisk air filled her with a new purpose.

  She had time, or at least she hadn’t failed Nora yet. And even though she knew she shouldn’t, Sera let herself release a little bit of that guilt.

  The air had a sweet scent. She’d bottle it up and send it to Dominick if she could as a thank-you for this gift.

  The ferns in their feathered greenery swayed around her with every step she took toward a trickling stream. She stripped off her tunic and proceeded to wash, scrubbing at the grime embedded in her knuckles.

  The doorways. They needed to be her priority. This evening, she’d get the map from Al and review it. See where the trio were in relation to the Deadlands and where the ruins might be. If demons were beginning to reoccupy Ceasefall, then things couldn’t be getting better between the coven and Gehenna. She needed to hurry.

  Sera barely caught herself before she face-planted into the stream. A buzzing sensation was pulsing right from the center of her chest, and it… pulled.

  “I swear…” she said as her dark magic rolled forward, almost asking for permission to exit. Strange. That had never happened before. The abomination swirling under her skin almost seemed polite. Releasing it slowly hadn’t ever been an option, only keeping it in, buried deep down. But what if she let it out? A quick glance around confirmed she was still alone.

  “Just a little,” she whispered to her darkness.

  A steady stream of black mist flowed from her fingertips into the wood. It slithered in an almost sentient manner, curling around the trunks of trees and weaving through the woody flora. Magnetic, just like it had been in the Menage…

  Branches snapped. Snik ran for her on all fours, yipping excitedly at her magic. She pulled at the mist, and for once it obeyed, disappearing into her skin.

  If only it were this easy every time.

  “Our little secret,” she said to Snik. The goblin nodded and pulled at her with his mud-covered claws.

  Hello… her magic said.

  Sera peered through the thicket. “Come on, Snik. Let’s go find Al.”

  Trudging through the forest was getting exhausting. Her feet were sore, which was to be expected, considering her boots still hadn’t broken in, regardless of the miles they’d covered. Her hips ached, her knees throbbed, and even her sides felt bruised.

  The enticing wonder the trees initially brought her had faded with the monotonous trek through crunching leaves, as she scraped her forearms on thorns and low-hanging branches. Sera was even getting sick of her fuzzy rat friends.

  Alistair, though, didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Not the walking, nor the bugs. It was like he actually enjoyed it. He snuck a glance at her from over his shoulder as they walked. “You’ve never learned how to use a weapon, correct?”

  “We aren’t exactly allowed to use the weapons we find in the keepers’ wing.” Sera swatted at a fly as Snik handed her another token from the forest. Raven feathers, shiny pebbles, a rodent skull: all little offerings she assumed were thanks for the meals and warm bedroll she shared with him. Sera kept every one.

  Alistair sighed. “You should learn to wield one. Burnout is real, and having a backup—or, in your case, any form of protection—is crucial in a fight.” He picked up a stick and cracked it over his knee, then threw the stubs to join the other decaying foliage.