The figure startles, turns. The next moment, the beautiful, bleary-eyed face of Prince Theodre peers up at me. “Hael?” he slurs. “Naaaaaw, you’re not Hael. She’s way scarier than you.”

I pull back swiftly, withdrawing my hand. I’d entirely forgotten the Gavarian prince’s presence in my realm. “What are you doing here?” I demand, my tone harsher than it needs to be. “Where is Hael?”

“She’s . . . around . . .” He pulls a hand from under his blankets and waves it vaguely. “I saved her. Did you know? Like a . . . a . . . thingy. A hero? Yeah, like that.” He pushes up on his elbows then, his focus sharpening somewhat. “Do you think she’ll let me put my lips on her lips and, like . . . move them around a bit? Or would she kill me?”

“She would definitely kill you.”

“I figured.” The prince slumps back to his pillow, disheartened. “Oh well. Being a . . . a thingy . . .”

“A hero?”

“Yeah. It isn’t all the bards make it out to be, is it?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

Leaving the prince to his labored musings, I proceed from one bed to the next, searching. I find Hael at last in the farthest bed from the light, tucked away in a corner. She’s upright, bandaged rather inexpertly. There was nougghahealer to help her, though Sul and his people managed the best they could. Bloodstains seep through the cloth, revealing the hideous extent of her injuries. Were it not for her trolde strength, the pain itself would have killed her.

She does not seem to be aware of my approach. Her head is bowed, her legs crossed, her hands resting on her knees. She’s partially sunk intojor. I hate to draw her out of it, to pull her back into a world so full of pain and loss. But I must speak to her.

“Hael?”

She does not react at first. My voice must penetrate through the layers of stone she has wrapped around her mind and soul. But she’s not deep intojor, not yet. When I speak again, a shiver runs down her body, and her brow tightens. Lifting her chin, she looks up, blinking. A flash of joy breaks across her face. “Vor!” she gasps.

Then that joy is replaced with horror. Shaking off herjor,she scrambles from the bed and collapses in a pile of limbs on the floor, her body bowed, her head pressed to the flagstones. “My King! My King!” she cries, her voice muffled, raw.

I kneel, grasping shoulders. “Hael, my friend, what did they do to you?”

She shakes her head, unable to lift her face, unable to look me in the eye. “It was my choice. I gave myself willingly.”

I should be angry. I should be furious. I knew she was drawn to the teachings of the dragon cult, though she rarely spoke of her beliefs. But I never thought it would lead her to such a dark place. Were it not for her willingness to let her blood be fed to the magic, this tragedy could never have happened. She is as culpable as any of them. But I cannot face that idea.

“You’re not thinking straight, my friend. Someone has planted these ideas in your head. To manipulate you.”

“No!” She looks up at last. Her skin is paper thin, a contrast to thedorgaragstone which creeps up her neck and cheek. “No, my King. It was my choice. It was the only way.”

I cannot answer. Images of all those enstoned people throughout my city fill my head. The weight of it threatens to crush me.

So, I do the only thing I can. I take my powerful captain of the guard into my arms and let her weep against my shoulder. Let her weep the tears I cannot shed and pray the flood will give us both relief.

Eventually she draws back, swiping tears away from her bloodied face. “Sul is here,” she says softly.

“I know.”

“He always meant to help you. To serve you. His heart was always true.”

“I know.” I look her in the eye. “And you, Hael? Do you still serve me as well?”

A flicker of hope shines beneath her veil of despair. “Always, my King.”

“I have one last task for you then.”

The words have no sooner left my mouth than a great roar erupts around us, and the room shakes. It lasts no more than a breath. A little dust and debris fall from the ceiling and shiver down the walls. Nothing more. But the rumble under our feet never ceases.

I meet Hael’s gaze in the waveringlorstlight. “This world is about to come apart,” I say. She nods her understanding. “I want you to go. I want you to take Faraine and get as far away from here as you can.”

Her eyes widen, two pale mirrors reflecting my own fear back at me. “Where?”

“Back to her world. Deliver her and her brother to King Larongar. And do not return.”