“Halima’s words were ‘better than expected,’” Ruskin says with a wry smile.

“I suppose you could put it like that, but that doesn’t matter right now.” I don’t want to stand here and make small talk when there are people around us in pain. Ruskin must’ve noticed the condition these fae are in, and yet his eyes remain fixed on me, like I’m the only one in the room.

“Hadeus said he’d put in policies to make sure these workers were safe, but look at them. They’ve been working for way too long. Some of them can barely stand, and none have been given the right equipment to protect themselves.”

Ruskin sweeps his gaze about the room. “I will make them change out the shift now,” he said.

“That’s not?—”

“And I will tell the supervisor that no fae is allowed to spend more than an hour in here at a time, with ample breaks. Satisfied?”

“It’s a start,” I say. Really, I’m annoyed he didn’t think of this before, or anyone else for that matter, but that’s something I’ve noticed about the Seelie. They just seem to accept that someone always has to get hurt. That suffering is the price someone—usually someone else—will always have to pay for them to get what they want. I can understand it, growing up in this world, but just because it’s been that way for a long time, doesn’t mean it has to stay that way.

“Hadeus says they haven’t found much anyway,” he says, looking over a nearby pile of earth.

I purse my lips, not sure I’d take Hadeus’s word for anything—inability to lie or not.

“Well, they’ve removed some of the iron,” I say, spotting rough clumps of it discarded in the soil. I bend, combing through the earth with my hand until I’ve got my fingers around a knot of it, pulling it loose. I frown at it, realizing how small it is in comparison to the shoots, a strange, mangled lump rather than the smooth, thick tendrils crisscrossing the room.

“This doesn’t look like the others,” I say.

“Do you think that’s significant?” Ruskin asks doubtfully.

“I don’t know…” I examine the layers of iron, building up on one another in a familiar pattern I can’t quite place. “Hold on.”

I don’t exactly know how I read the memories of Halima’s sword, but I try to tap into that again now, closing my eyes and starting where I do with any spell—at the pool of magic.

It’s harder. At first, I think it’s because I haven’t got the technique down, that I’m not asking my magic the right thing—but then I feel the weight of the iron’s presence pushing back against me. This is a metal that naturally wants to repel magic. I know I can bend it to my will, but it doesn’t come easily.

I focus on the knot of iron in my hand, finding its core, the essence of it.

Come on, I urge it, show me your secrets. Where do you come from?

There’s a flash of something—a memory it holds of being a substance very different to the cold, hard material infecting the palace, a thing that’s soft and vibrant.

“It…it was something else, before it became iron,” I explain to Ruskin, still concentrating. “It had another form. It’s familiar, but I’m not sure why…”

Then, as with Halima’s blade, a wave of emotion hits me like a lightning bolt—a surge of anguish and hate. The same feelings that fed the haze of war: a hunger for death and punishment.

“It was a living thing once upon a time,” I say with certainty. “But it’s been twisted by anger and pain.”

I push once again against the iron with my magic, but it won’t give way. It doesn’t want to reveal anything more than the vague clues I’ve gleaned. It offers stony indifference, a world away from the clear images of the sword’s memory. And as tired as I am from all the magic I’ve used already, I don’t have the energy to force it.

I let my magic fall back and open my eyes. Ruskin is watching me closely.

“How did you do that?” he asks.

“It’s like tracking the metal, except I asked it different questions and tried to read its memory instead.”

“Memory? Objects don’t have memories.”

“Well, that’s how Halima put it when I touched her sword and it took me back to the war.”

I see he’s trying, and failing, to looked unfazed by this news, his eyes widening in surprise.

“So that’s what happened at training. And that’s how you knew you could do this?”

“Yes.”