“I think it doesn’t matter either way,” I say. “No offense, my love, but you’ve never been here before.”

“And where is here, exactly?” he asks. His voice is sharp, and I can tell he’s in pain. Not physical agony like he just went through, but pain that goes deeper. His world is about to burn because of a woman he spent centuries fighting for. But I won’t let him give up yet.

“At the bottom of a hole when it feels like you have no cards left to play. In a situation where it seems like everyone else is stronger and better positioned than you and there’s absolutely no way you can survive. Except it doesn’t matter if you think you can or not. You have to try, because the only other option is to lie down and die,” I say bluntly. “Those have been my only options time and time again. So the way I see it, we don’t really have a choice whether to fight for Seelie. We’re already in this, to whatever end waits for us.”

“You have a choice,” Ruskin says quietly, staring at me. “You could go home, with your father,” he gestures to Dad, who’s been watching us talk from his seat on the riverbank. He’s silent, but I can tell he’s absorbing all this.

“And you could go back to your uncle and forget about your kingdom,” I point out. “But we both already decided long ago that some things are worth more than our lives—our homes, our friends, and family.” I look at the rest of the group, before turning my gaze back to Ruskin. “And each other.”

General Sunshard finally releases her hand from her weapon and stands. “She’s right. I didn’t live through the Great Divide to let that woman destroy the kingdom I fought for. Halima will be avenged.”

I nod, appreciating her support.

“We woke her up, Ruskin,” I say. “Both of us. Now let’s put that wrong right.”

Ruskin’s jaw tightens, his yellow-green eyes burning with new fervor.

“Very well. Then I think it’s time we take Lisinder up on his offer.”

The earthy smell of the resistance safe house is comforting, much more so than the many hostile faces of the Low Fae staring back at us. I’d have a sense of déjà vu, except now there are definitely a handful of humans mixed in among the Low Fae, wearing servants’ uniforms from the palace. And somehow things are worse than the last time we all met here.

Lisinder was more than willing to ready his army when Ruskin contacted him via portal, but beyond asking him to march on the Seelie Kingdom, we have no plan. If we don’t come up with one soon, we’re looking at bloodbath—and worse, a pointless bloodbath, since we have no guarantee it would do anything to stop Evanthe’s plans. If anything, distracting the Seelie with a war would probably aid her in destroying her court.

“What happened to Kaline?” demands the fae with the mossy beard—one of the resistance leaders, I’ve come to realize—as I find Dad a seat. Dad sinks into it gratefully, eyeing the petal-skinned fae beside him with interest rather than fear. It gives me some hope.

“Yesterday you said you could stop Evanthe, and then the next thing we hear you have left the palace again, and Kaline is dead,” barks the bearded fae.

I feel my face crumple, surprising myself. The grief is fresh, but I thought I had been hardened to it by now. It seems that my silly, human heart still can’t keep up with the pace of loss in Faerie.

“I’m sorry about Kaline,” I say. “She was one of my first true friends in this realm.”

“So why did you leave her to die?” the fae demands.

“She didn’t,” Ruskin interjects, and the bearded fae stands straighter. Despite himself, he’s aware of being addressed by royalty. “Kaline was leaving with us after our plan to weaken the queen failed. But she got distracted and fell behind. She saw Lord Vanis and went after him. My mother’s dark magic caught up to her, and that’s how she died.”

“I still don’t see how?—”

“That’s enough, Ecistan,” says a voice among the gathered Low Fae. The crowd parts slightly, and I see, seated in a chair with a blanket over his legs, a fae with hair like coral.

“Falstir,” I say, recognizing Kaline’s brother.

“I’m sorry I was not here yesterday to greet you, Your Highness,” Falstir says, nodding to Ruskin, and then to the others. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t bow.”

“Your sister told us about what happened to you,” I say. “Evanthe’s followers will pay for their crimes.”

“That’s what Kaline thought, and she went and got herself killed because she was trying to avenge me.” He shakes his head, his eyes bright with sadness and anger. “She was always stubborn and hot-headed.”

I feel a fresh jab of pain at Falstir’s words, because they make me realize how much I had yet to learn about Kaline. I barely knew her, and yet I can see the hole she’s leaving here is a raw, jagged one.

“Tell them, Gapir,” Falstir prompts the imp. “They need to know.”

Gapir steps forward, looking shifty. “There’s been developments at the palace.”

“What kind?” General Sunshard demands. “Why didn’t you lead with this?”

“More humans have arrived. Soldiers. A hundred, at least. They’re carrying weapons made of cold iron and they’ve herded the High Fae and some of their servants into the palace. According to our spies, they’re holding them inside, though they’re not sure where exactly.”

The presence of the human servants here at the safe house suddenly makes sense; they must’ve escaped during the attack on the palace.