“Hold on,” Xander said before Kent could start. “Ben?”

  “I’m going.” Ben rose, head hanging, and headed for the door.

  “Wait,” I called.

  Ben stopped and looked up.

  “I think he should stay,” I said.

  “You do?” Xander asked.

  “You do?” Ben echoed in a much more hopeful voice.

  “Yes,” I said firmly. I looked at Ben. “We might need your help in all this.”

  Ben winced. “Are you sure you want my help after what happened with Nightingale?”

  “Absolutely,” I assured him, ignoring the pang I felt at the sound of her name. “Especially because of how brave you were about Nightingale.” My voice cracked a little, but Ben’s expression softened, and I knew I’d made the right choice.

  “Thanks,” he said, dropping to the floor right where he stood, waiting expectantly for the meeting to begin.

  I nodded at Kent. “Go for it.”

  “Okay then. Well.” He cleared his throat. “To explain all of this properly, I have to go back to the beginning.”

  “I can’t wait for this,” Xander muttered.

  I shot him a warning look, and he fell silent. Stone-faced but silent.

  Before Kent went on, the back door opened and closed. Jalene appeared from the kitchen. When she saw everyone gathered, she crossed her arms and stepped just far enough into the room to be considered present. Her expression was similar to Xander’s, but at least she didn’t throw anything else.

  “Don’t mind me,” she said, leaning against the wall. “I’ll just be here. Witnessing your lies.”

  Kent looked a little less sure than before, but he took a deep breath and began. “Soon after my birth, my parents took me to see the oracle as was the custom for our people. She laid her hands on me and performed a ceremony as she had every other Zorovian child. But when it was over, she didn’t offer my parents the usual pronouncement about what my job or future accomplishments would be. Her reading was so strange and disturbing, in fact, that my childhood was spent visiting every other seer in our system hoping for a different answer.”

  “What was this unusual reading?” Xander asked, skepticism coating his words.

  Kent met his gaze, unfazed. “Every one of them predicted that I would hold the key to Tharos’ destruction—and that offering it to our people would kill me.”

  I watched every one of their faces for some sort of reaction. Especially Beck’s. She was staring at Kent calmly, no trace of surprise at his words. No hint of disbelief either. If anything, a serene sort of empathy reflected on her features.

  It confirmed everything he’d told me back in the clearing.

  As great as it felt to have a solution to our problem, I couldn’t help but wish it had come from a different source. An easier one. Especially for Xander and Jalene.

  “What kind of key?” Xander asked finally.

  I didn’t miss the fact that he’d completely glossed over the death part.

  “A medallion forged by Eloishia herself and made from equal parts ice and fire, light and dark. Yin and yang.” Kent shrugged. “Or at least that’s what the seer told my father.”

  “Where is this medallion?” Peter asked, leaning forward in his chair. Already, curiosity had won out over any distrust, but then I’d expected that from him.

  “I don’t know,” Kent admitted. “I’ve spent years tracking it.” His gaze flicked to Beck and something passed between them. “The few leads I’ve gotten on it always fizzled out. I suspect it moves around a lot.”

  “You suspect,” Xander repeated, his voice taking on an edge. He looked from me to Peter, and then to his mother before huffing out a heavy breath. “This is crazy, and after everything else that’s happened today, I don’t have the patience to wade through half-truths and manipulations.”

  He pushed to his feet, but I grabbed his arm to keep him from leaving.

  “Wait. There’s something else you need to hear,” I said.

  Xander scowled. “What is it?” he demanded.

  I dropped my hands to my lap and looked at Beck, silently apologizing for putting her on the spot like this. “You helped Kent look for the medallion,” I said gently. “Didn’t you?”

  Beck’s mouth tightened. She shot a look at Kent, but he nodded encouragingly.

  “You can tell them,” he said quietly. “It’s why we came here. So you can verify my story.”

  “Mom,” Xander prompted, his tone more of a warning than a question. “Do you know something about this?”

  Beck nodded, her mouth set into a hard line. “All right then. Kent came to me about a year ago.” She glanced at Xander. “Around the time the council made a play for your leadership, Xan. He told me about the oracle’s reading, and we used some of the magic brought in from Neila’s Calling Ceremony to search for the medallion.”

  “You worked with him?” Xander asked. “After the way he’s treated this family?”

  Beck sighed. “Kent’s spent his life trying to accept the fact that he’ll have to die to save all of us,” she said. “And the only reason his dad is trying to stop you from going to war, or,” she glanced at me, “becoming a leader, is because he doesn’t want to lose his son. I was trying to find a way to get the medallion without invoking Kent’s predicted future.”

  “Those predictions aren’t something you can just work around,” Xander said.

  “Why not?” Beck shot back, brows rising. “Alina’s doing a pretty good job of overcoming hers.”

  Xander sighed. “That’s different,” he grumbled.

  Beck didn’t answer, but I watched as Xander processed what she’d just said. I had a feeling he wouldn’t keep arguing it. He wanted the prediction about my failure to be wrong just as much as I did.

  “How do we know the medallion is for real?” Jalene asked. “I mean, even if the oracle was right, and even if we find it, how can we be sure this stone can hold all that magic?”

  “Changing your path is one thing,” Peter said slowly, “But I’ve never seen or heard of an oracle reading that proved false.”

  “Peter’s right,” Beck said. “If the oracle saw it, then the medallion’s power is real.”

  “I can vouch for that,” I said, and everyone’s gaze swung to me. I glanced at Xander then Peter before adding, “I didn’t tell the council everything.”

  “What are you holding back?” Xander asked.

  “It’s true what I told Neila. I took my magic from Tharos, but I also channeled some of it through something else. Like she said, a power that great, a Calling Ceremony that big… You have to allow the magic to pass through something, or it’ll eat you alive. My mother knew that, and she had something that channeled it for us.”

  I looked at Kent and said, “She called it a medallion too.”

  His eyes widened. “And you waited until now to tell me about this?”

  “I waited about as long as you did,” I pointed out.

  His shoulders sagged. “Whatever.”

  “Do you know what happened to the medallion she used?” Peter asked.

  “No. She never let me handle it. She said it should remain separate from the magic wielder for safety reasons that she couldn’t explain.” My gaze flicked to Kent. “I got the sense whoever guarded it would do whatever it took to keep it from falling into the wrong hands.”

  He looked back at me. “Like move it frequently?”

  I nodded. “Makes sense.”

  “How do we find it?” Xander asked. He was looking at Kent and the skepticism was gone. In its place was a determination that bordered on obsessive. It was a look I recognized well.

  “The last trail we picked up was in the Vanguard System,” Kent said.

  Beck nodded. “It was the closest we could get even with the magic we used for the spell. Whoever’s hiding the medallion is powerful.”

  “And you’re sure it isn’t Tharos laying a trap?” Xander asked.

  “I don’t think so. The signature we felt wasn’t magical, not like Tharos or even Alina,” Beck said.

  “It’s bigger than them,” Kent agreed and shuddered.

  “What’s bigger than Tharos?” Xander asked, frowning.

  “I don’t know, but I think it’s a good sign,” Ben said.

  Xander’s gaze swung sharply to his brother. “How do you figure that?”

  Ben shrugged. “If this medallion is strong enough to contain Tharos’ magic or even channel it into something harmless, it would have to be more powerful than his will to stop you, don’t you think?”

  Xander grunted at that, but I shot Ben a thumbs up.

  “Kid has a point,” Kent said.

  “We need to put a search team together,” I said.

  Xander shook his head. “No way. Eamon will never go for this.” He looked at me pointedly. “Not with you on that team, anyway.”

  I bit my lip.

  Xander’s expression lit with understanding. “That’s why you didn’t tell the council about it,” he said.

  “They refused me my throne, Xan. I can’t let them refuse this too. Not when it’s our only shot at destroying Tharos once and for all.”

  “They might go for it,” Xander began, but I cut him off.

  “You were there, and we both know the only way they’d go for it would be without any of us. I’m not going to put more of our people in danger. No one else dies for me.”

  “We could explain—” Kent began, but Xander whirled on him.

  “You’re not coming,” he said.

  “Xan,” Beck began, gently but firmly. “This is Kent’s journey even more than it is yours.”

  Destiny, Kent had called it earlier. Now, he wisely kept his mouth shut. But Beck was right. Kent was meant for this.

  Xander glared at his mother, and I wondered if he would actually argue with her over it. But then his shoulders sagged, and he raised a resigned gaze to the ceiling. “Fine. Alina, Kent, and I will go. But if we’re doing this insane thing, we go now. Before Eamon can stop us.” He cut a hard glance at me. “Because he will stop us.”

  I looked from Beck to Peter and then to Kent. Xander was right. We had to go soon. Before Eamon hunted me down and put me in my place for the stunt I’d pulled earlier. Besides, what was one more screw-up to add to the list he probably already kept on me?

  “We leave at nightfall,” I said.

  Kent nodded somberly.

  Jalene stalked out.

  Chapter Six

  If Peter had something to say about the way I’d ended the council meeting, he wisely kept it quiet in favor of letting me crash. I had a feeling it would still be there waiting for me when I woke, but I was grateful for the delay. By the time our meeting broke up, sleep had come to claim me, like it or not. With Xander’s help, I only barely made it to Ben’s borrowed bed before I crashed hard.

  Hours later, awake but groggy, I stumbled through the house, following the sound of voices. Peter and Beck were in her kitchen, arguing over whether or not the custom was tea and then a blessing ceremony—whatever that was—or the other way around. Peter still wore Beck’s robe but at least he had pants on underneath it this time.

  “I think they’re meant to happen simultaneously,” Peter was saying.

  “Right, but if we split them up, it will take longer,” Beck pointed out.

  “Ahh. I see.” Peter rubbed his chin.

  I shuffled past them to the fridge—or cold box, as Beck always called it. By the time I’d come away with a water and the closest leftovers available, Beck and Peter had fallen silent behind me.

  I turned around to find them both watching me warily.

  “What?” I asked. “Do I have something on my face?” I set the armful of food and drink on the small table and swiped a hand over my cheek.

  “You should still be sleeping,” Peter chastised as Beck went to work fixing me a plate from the food I’d set down.

  “I don’t disagree,” I said, grimacing. “But my body wouldn’t listen.”

  “She’s doing her best,” Beck said and handed me a heaping plate of some sort of chilled pasta and veggies.

  I considered kissing her in sheer appreciation, but my stomach was grumbling, and I decided not to waste time. “Listen to Beck,” I told Peter around a mouthful of food.

  Peter snorted and patted the chair beside him.

  I sat, and Beck went back to preparing whatever tea she’d been cooking up before. “That’s not for me, is it?” I asked.

  She glanced back and smiled crookedly at the look on my face. “No. Peter and I are taking it to the council this evening.” She shared a look with him and added, “If they’re all tied up in a tea ceremony, they won’t be able to notice you’ve gone.”

  “It should buy you some time,” Peter said.

  “Wow, thank you,” I told them.

  “It was Ben’s idea actually,” Beck said.

  “Well then remind me to thank him,” I told her.

  “You just bring yourself and those boys home safe,” Beck said, pointing at me with a wooden ladle. “I’ll consider that thanks enough.”

  “Deal,” I told her.

  After that, Peter let me eat in silence. I ignored his watchful stare, and the lecture I felt brewing behind his gaze. The moment I was done, he took a deep breath, and I braced myself. “What you’re doing,” he began.

  “Is reckless and stupid?” I finished.

  His eyes narrowed, and I decided to shut up and let him get on with it.

  “Is a risk,” he said sharply. “But as the ruling monarch of this people, it is yours to take.”

  “You think of me as the monarch?” I asked quietly. “Even after what Eamon said?”

  “Eamon’s trying to speak for too many people,” Peter said, echoing Xander’s words. But just because they were true didn’t mean they weren’t irritating. “You know you who are. I don’t expect you to let a gaggle of old men convince you of anything differently.”

  I blinked, surprised to hear Peter going against the political majority. “You’re not mad at me then? For lying to you?”

  “I know you had your reasons. So did Hestia. I trust you both.” He wagged a finger at me, adding, “Just remember when you’re out there traipsing through danger and possible death that you are the only thing standing between our present situation and total annihilation. Bring yourself back alive, all right?”

  My brows shot up. When Peter resorted to using words like “total annihilation” it was time to pay attention.

  “I will remember,” I promised.

  He shook his head, and his shoulders fell. “I know, I know. I’m being dramatic.” Beck snorted without even turning around. Peter scowled at her back. “I’m just worried about you,” he admitted to me.

  I reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I know,” I said. “And I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

  He offered me a tight smile. When he spoke again, his voice was low. Sad. “It’s good that you remember things now. I… I didn’t ever want you to think I was replacing them, you know.”

  My chest ached at that. “You can’t replace them,” I agreed. “But you are still my family, Peter. Always.”

  He smiled through watery eyes, and I had to hold my breath to keep from bawling at the sight of him choked up. Peter never displayed emotion this way. But after losing the horses, I had a feeling it was too close to the surface.

  “I’ll be back before you know it,” I said.

  He nodded and squeezed my hand before rising and slipping out of the room.

  Beck glanced back at me when we were alone. “He wants to go with you,” she said.

  “What?” My eyes widened. “No way—”

  “Relax. I explained he could do more good here, soothing Eamon and the council about your swift exit.” She smiled deviously. “And serving up a distraction tea.”

  I exhaled. “Thank you.”

  She smirked and then began pouring the tea into a large glass container. “Don’t thank me yet.”

  “Uh-oh. Whatever you’re about to say better not involve me drinking more of that drug tea you made before,” I said, already shaking my head as she tried handing me a mug.

  “It’s just tea,” she assured me, and then handed me a second mug.

  “What’s this one for?” I asked, holding them gingerly as if the mug alone was going to bite me.

  “One for you and one for Xander,” she explained. “A different brew than I made for the council, so don’t worry.”

  “Where is Xander, anyway?” I asked, taking the mugs reluctantly.

  “He’s out back. I think he got tired of pacing outside the bedroom while you slept.”

  She held the back door open for me.

  Outside, the sun had already begun to slant toward dusk. Orange sunlight glinted off the blooms of Beck’s garden so brightly that I had to look away. I walked past Beck, careful not to spill the mugs, and noted her crooked smirk as she took in my uncertain expression.

  “It’s just tea,” she repeated.

  Then she shut the door behind me.

  I wound through Beck’s garden with a strong sense of déjà vu. The last time I’d been here, I’d been tripping on some sort of acid tea. And while it had resulted in getting my memories back, our mission tonight didn’t exactly allow enough time for a psychedelic event.

  Xander paced between two rows of tall hedges. When he saw me, his relief was overshadowed by the irritation in his sharp blue eyes. He’d clearly spent my naptime working himself up.

  Before he could launch into whatever was eating at him, I thrust one of the mugs at his chest. “Here. Your mom said drink this,” I told him.

  He hesitated, sniffing the liquid suspiciously. At least I wasn’t the only one. Finally, he sipped uncertainly. Then he drank deeply, gulping it until it was gone.

  I watched with raised brows.

  “I recognize the blend,” he explained. “It’s a two-fold recipe. Relaxes your mind while also sharpening senses and reflexes.” He nodded at my cup. “Drink up.”