“Why not?”

  “Goblins’ loyalties are too divided. We can’t risk the information about this place getting back to the Elora Seven.”

  “So we just have to be okay with not knowing?”

  He nods. “For now.”

  Swallowing, I glance around the room. “And where are we?” I can make out voices beneath us and the sound of flatware on dishes.

  “Ironmoore. It’s an Eloran settlement. It’s the safest place we could find for you while we figure some things out.”

  “Elorans? In Faerie?”

  A ghost of a smile passes across his face as he tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “Why’s that so hard to believe? We’re all here.”

  “Yes, but you’re just . . .” I wave my hand in the air as if to indicate him and the friends I can hear below us. “There are only a few of you.”

  “Many Elorans have been displaced under the rule of the Seven,” he says. “More than you can imagine. Believe it or not, Faerie is a good option as far as temporary homes go.”

  I don’t argue for fear of him pointing out the hypocrisy in my feelings toward the shadow fae. Maybe his friends are right. Maybe what I feel is nothing but prejudice.

  “Let’s get you some dinner,” Kendrick finally says.

  “I still want to go with you,” I blurt, registering the rest of what he said. The safest place for me. Are they planning to leave me here? I lift my chin. I won’t lose my chance to end Mordeus. “I want to be there when you go to Feegus Keep.”

  Kendrick huffs out a breath and shakes his head. “What happened to that timid little girl from the dungeons?”

  I know he means to be flippant, but I hold his gaze as I answer, “She didn’t make it.”

  Remme and Skylar are sitting at a small table in the home’s main floor kitchen, steam rolling off bowls of stew in front of them.

  “Going before the ball still feels risky,” Remme is saying. “The king’s sentinels will be watching for anything suspicious.”

  “That’s why we’re sending Shae and not you,” Skylar says. “He isn’t suspicious.”

  “You found your friend?” I ask, and their eyes turn to me.

  Skylar’s face splits into a grin as she looks me over with an arched brow. “Sick scar. How are you feeling, Slayer?”

  I pull back, surprised. She’s never used that nickname before. “Better. Where’s Natan?”

  “He’s doing some research,” Remme says. “He’ll be back soon.”

  I frown. “About the ring?”

  Remme nods. “We don’t make a habit of engaging with magic we don’t understand. And after what happened yesterday . . .” He shrugs.

  I frown. Yesterday. “How long was I sleeping?”

  “A day and a half,” Kendrick says, and there’s a tenderness in his eyes that makes me want to prove I’m not helpless or weak.

  But is that even true without the ring?

  “Do you always get that sick after using it?” Remme asks.

  I shake my head. “No. It’s using it during the daylight that comes with complications.”

  “What kind of complications?” Kendrick asks.

  “Nausea, lethargy, a little weakness.”

  “You collapsed and slept for thirty-four hours,” Skylar says. “That’s more than a little weakness.”

  “Death’s kiss and now this?” Remme asks.

  I look to Kendrick, who shrugs. “They needed to know,” he says.

  “Any other details you’d like to share with the class, Princess?” Remme asks.

  “Just that one. It’s a tool meant for the dark.” I glance around the small kitchen, desperate to change the subject. “Is there coffee?”

  “On the counter,” Skylar says, but Kendrick is already heading that way.

  He fills a mug and hands it to me. “You need food too.” He nods to a chair—the only available one at the table. “Sit and I’ll get it for you.”

  “Aren’t you going to eat?” I ask, lowering myself into it.

  “Already did,” he says.

  “Never once has he brought me my dinner,” Remme says.

  “He doesn’t look at you like that either,” Skylar mutters.

  I squirm and reach for a change of subject. “Where’s Shae going, then?”

  “To the Wild Fae Lands,” Remme says. “To check in with Felicity.”

  “Have you heard anything?” I ask. “About how Felicity’s faring at Castle Craige?”

  Remme shrugs. “Seems like it’s going great.”

  “Misha isn’t suspicious at all? Or is she just keeping to herself like I told her?”

  Kendrick slides a fresh bowl of stew in front of me, and I flash him a grateful smile.

  “Relax,” Skylar says, poking at her dinner. “She’s fine. She’s been winning the king over just like we need her to.”

  I straighten. “Excuse me—what? I told her to stay in her chambers. If she spends too much time with him, he’ll figure it out, and if Misha figures it out, he will tell my sister.”

  Remme and Skylar exchange a look, and he sighs. “Listen, I appreciate where you’re coming from,” he says, “but Felicity is good at what she does. You saw her yourself.”

  “And Misha is really good at what he does. He reads minds. Don’t you get that?”

  Skylar folds her arms. “He doesn’t read yours.”

  “Well, yeah, because he trained me how to block against him.”

  “Then he can’t be all that skilled with it,” she says.

  My fist tightens around my spoon. “Brie says she’s watched him break people.”

  Remme sighs. “But he hasn’t broken you because he respects you. He trained you how to shield your mind, and he respects that shield—and he’ll respect Felicity’s shield because he believes she is you. You have nothing to worry about.”

  I stir my stew, shaking my head. “Why does she need to get close to him? That seems like an unnecessary risk. No one told me this was part of the plan.”

  “We need to get into the Eloran Palace,” Kendrick says, leaning against the wall behind Skylar. “There are only two ways to do that: with the Sword of Fire, which we may or may not be able to acquire, and through a Hall of Doors, which holds portals to many places in many realms. The location in each court is a closely held secret.”

  I shake my head. “If each court has a Hall, why not use the one in the shadow court?”

  “Because the Halls are hidden,” Skylar says, “and the location passed along from one ruler to the next. But Mordeus didn’t exactly leave notes for your sister.”

  Remme nods and scrapes the last of his stew from his bowl. “If we can’t find the sword, we’ll need a portal.”

  “If there’s another way to get to Erith,” I ask, “why have you been looking for the sword for so long?”

  “The sword doesn’t just open portals,” Remme says, putting down his bowl and leaning back in his chair. “It’s the almighty weapon. Having the sword would guarantee Erith’s defeat. He has no defense against it.”

  My gaze flicks to Kendrick, who’s watching me. “So if you find the sword, you don’t need me.” I don’t know why that revelation makes me feel so sad. I didn’t come along because I wanted to kill some Eloran supermage. I came to find Mordeus. But now I want to be part of their mission.

  “If we find the sword, then we find the sword,” Kendrick says slowly. “But who’s to say what will happen between finding it and getting to Erith? There are too many variables, and like I’ve said before, if I can choose, I’m going to go with the oracle every time. If we can go to Erith with you, one fated to bring him down, or with the sword he can’t defend himself against, I’d rather have”—he grins, dimples popping—“well, both.”

  “We still need Felicity to search for the Hall,” Skylar says, “because our time is running out. We don’t know when they’ll tap the next novitiate for the Seven, and taking them down when they don’t have a seventh will be much easier.”

  Kendrick points to my bowl. “Eat.”

  I scoop up a bite. “Yes, sir.” My stomach is still unsettled, and I’m not sure about eating, but the stew is rich and flavorful and seems to warm me from the inside out. I scoop up another bite right away. “So if only Wild Fae royals know how to get to this Hall, why would Misha share the location with Felicity?”

  Remme chuckles, and Skylar grins. “Males will share most anything with a good lover,” she says.

  “A lover?” I sputter. “But he thinks Felicity is me!”

  “If I had to guess, he’s been carrying a torch for you for a while,” Remme says.

  I gape. “Then you’d guess wrong.”

  Remme shrugs. “Either way, the king is falling fast.”

  “But when this is all over—when I go back . . . do you expect me to keep this secret?” I shake my head. “No. No one told me she was planning to seduce Misha in my form. This isn’t okay.”

  Remme shoves his bowl to the side and leans forward, elbows on the table. “Once you kill Erith for us and Felicity is out of that castle, you can tell Misha and your sister and whomever else whatever you want about all this.”

  And then they’ll all know I was part of this. Did I think I’d never have to face the consequences of my choices? Did I think no one would ever find out?

  Will it even matter by then? Will we finish our mission before my time runs out?

  “Don’t pout,” Skylar says. “That king is delicious. Tall, dark, and powerful? Consider it a favor and just pick up where Felicity leaves off.”

  I draw back. “You’re disgusting.”

  “No. You are unimaginative. Word has it your sister fancies marrying you off to him. Embrace it. You could be a queen.”

  “Hard pass.” I glance toward Kendrick. Surely he’ll have something to say about her outrageous ideas, but he’s turned toward the window and is frowning out into the setting sun.

  “At least as the Wild Fae queen, you’d be safe,” he says, not looking at me.

  My heart sinks. When we kissed, I thought there was something between us—something more than the one-sided feelings I’ve been wrestling with since seeing him again—but he hasn’t touched me since I woke up. Not in that way, at least.

  Kendrick pulls a vial from his pocket and puts it on the table in front of me. “Natan left a potion for your glamour if you want it.”

  I flick my eyes up to meet his and glance to his elven ears. The rest of them are glamoured, why wouldn’t I want to be?

  “It’s probably a good idea that you continue with the disguise,” Skylar explains. “Humans are safe here, but there are too many people to guarantee they’re all trustworthy. Only a select few here know about our mission, and it would be better if the whole village didn’t realize we’re traveling with the shadow princess.”

  “Finish your dinner,” Kendrick says. “I’ll meet you all outside after.” He strides out of the kitchen and disappears down the hall.

  “Way to go, Skylar,” Remme mutters, elbowing her before standing and taking his bowl to the sink.

  “I didn’t mean to strike a nerve.” She glances toward the stairs and grimaces. “Think I should let him be or go talk to him?”

  Remme frowns. “Let him be. He’s struggling.”

  “With what?” I ask before I can stop myself.

  Skylar exchanges a look with Remme before leaving the table and taking her dishes to the sink. “Hale is a good person,” she says. “You won’t find better. He’ll figure it out.”

  She didn’t answer my question, but I don’t push.

  Remme studies me. “I’m glad you’re okay, kiddo,” he says softly. “You really worried us.”

  My vision goes blurry, and I have to look down at my bowl to hide the tears burning my eyes. I never expected these people to care about me. I never expected their opinion of me to mean so much. “I’m fine,” I whisper.

  “You are most definitely not fine,” Skylar says, “but you’re still with us, so we’ll figure out the rest as we go.” She squeezes my shoulder. “Sorry for being an ass about the sexy king thing. I forget not everyone can joke about stuff like that. I’m just jealous.”

  “Finish eating, and we’ll show you around,” Remme says. “We have an old friend who’s eager to meet you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Jasalyn

  THE ELORAN SETTLEMENT IS MASSIVE. I expected maybe half a dozen tents around a fire, maybe a few more secure structures, but this place isn’t anything nearly so temporary. Small A-frame homes with grass roofs line the streets, and the town center has a gathering area, a pavilion, and an altar.

  A quarter hour passed before Kendrick joined us outside. He’s been quieter than normal, and I can’t stop looking at him. He’s usually covered in the belts and straps of various weapons. Even in Mordeus’s dungeons, Kendrick was in riding leathers. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen him in something so casual as the cotton tunic and trousers he’s wearing today.

  He’s even more handsome like this somehow, and my heart tugs hard at the truth. I like seeing him like this because I won’t get much of it. Every day is a reminder that my time with him is limited. He’s working to go back to Elora, and once I help him get there, I’ll be back at the palace, and then I’ll be . . . then I’ll be nothing at all.

  “Did you get enough to eat?” he asks as we start down the street toward the village center.

  I wrap my arms around myself. I haven’t even been awake for two hours, and I already feel like I could crawl back into bed and sleep. “You don’t need to coddle me.”

  In front of us, Remme and Skylar are arguing under their breath.

  Kendrick tucks his hands into his pockets. “I’m not coddling. You were ill, and I want to make sure you fully recover.”

  I bow my head. “Well, thank you, but you needn’t worry. I’m fine.”

  His brow pinches as he studies my face, and I can tell by his expression that he can see my exhaustion.

  “Does my sister know about this place?” I ask, more to change the subject than anything else.

  “I would imagine so,” Kendrick says, “though I can’t say she’s aware there are more Elorans here than anywhere else in her court.”

  “How did that come to be? Did the fae welcome them?”

  “This village was ransacked by Mordeus five years ago,” Skylar says, glancing at me over her shoulder. “He looted the homes and businesses, then burned it to the ground when he heard a rumor they’d hosted his nephew, who, of course was the one who should’ve taken the throne when Oberon died.”

  My stomach pitches. “That’s horrible.” I’ve always known Mordeus was cruel—never had a reason to doubt it—and yet I’ve never given my sister enough credit for the good she did when she took the throne. Maybe I didn’t want to understand.

  “This village was only one of many he destroyed,” Kendrick says.

  “So Mordeus didn’t notice when Elorans moved in and took over?”

  “We were more strategic than that,” Remme says. He turns toward me and walks backward so he can look at me as he talks. “We didn’t really start rebuilding the town until your sister took the throne, and at that point many fae were coming out of hiding and rebuilding areas that had been destroyed by Mordeus—either directly or by his oppressive laws.”

  “Jenkish,” Kendrick calls, waving over a brown-skinned older man with white shoulder-length hair. He’s not glamoured, I realize, and I wonder if it’s because humans feel safe to appear as they are while they’re in this settlement.

  “Hale,” he says, smiling broadly and nodding at me. “I’m glad to see your friend recovered.”

  Kendrick turns and extends a hand toward me. “Jas, this is Lons Jenkish, my father’s oldest friend. Lons, allow me to introduce you to Princess Jasalyn, child of Mab.”

  I frown at Kendrick. Surely this old friend of his father’s doesn’t care that I’m not just a human glamoured to look fae—that fae lurks in my blood. I hate the idea of meeting these Elorans and having them see me as something they’re taught to fear. “Just Jas is fine. I had nothing to do with my ancestry.”

  Lons’s eyes go bright, and he laughs. “This one’s sharp, isn’t she?” His eyes sparkle when they land on me. “Even if you didn’t have such a unique bloodline, you would be special to me. Any friend of Hale’s is a friend of mine.”

  “Same,” I say softly.

  Remme grunts behind me. “You never extended that courtesy to me. I had to work to win your heart.”

  I glance toward him. “But you did, so why are you fussing about it now?”

  “All those lost days, Princess,” Remme says, winking.

  Lons turns to Kendrick. “It was lucky Felicity was available to stand in for the princess. Do you know—is that going well?”

  As if sensing my tension at this question, Kendrick takes my hand and gives it a hard squeeze. “Better than expected.”

  Lons’s shoulders drop. “Good. The last thing we need is an angry shadow queen tearing apart our camp looking for her sister.”

  My heart twists at the thought. She would. If my sister realized Felicity was an impostor, Brie would tear apart her whole court to find me, and she’d make an example of anyone who stood in her way.

  “You will be our guests of honor tomorrow night,” Lons says.

  I glance toward Kendrick. I assumed we’d be leaving in the morning. “What’s tomorrow?”

  “The people of Ironmoore want to host a celebration to wish us luck on our journey,” Kendrick says.

  I wonder if he even knows he’s still holding my hand, or if he realizes how much the tiny gesture means to me in this place where they all seem to know each other but I’m the stranger.

  “It’s the least we can do,” Lons says, but then his gaze catches on our joined hands, and his expression turns stern for a beat before he pastes on a smile.

  I take my hand from Kendrick’s to press it against my stomach. Happy and full of fluttering butterflies moments before, now it’s sinking. I didn’t imagine the disapproval in his eyes. Is it because he sees me as fae or something else?