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Beneath the strip of a bandana she now used to hoist up her braids, her face was a careful portrait of vague concern. But I could sense the heavier anxiety lacing the edge of her voice, and I almost smiled. No matter how she liked to come across, Dazmine Temperton cared about the love of my life.

Which meant I tolerated her a little more than I did most people.

“No,” I answered. “We weren’t together when this happened. But she did tell me to say hi.” I put on the best smile I could in my current state.

Dazmine wasn’t impressed. “Does Rayna know you’re hurt?”

“I didn’t want her to worry,” I said, this time through gritted teeth, trying to clench down on the groan of pain building in my throat.

“Right.” Dazmine tapped a finger against her arm as she scrutinized me, “Because I’m sure she’s frolicking through the arboretum with all her little mice and bird friends right now, not a care in the world.”

“Exactly.” Even with the edges of my vision blurring, I couldn’t miss the sarcasm coating her voice now. “Rayna’s already got too much on her mind. I would know. I was just in it.”

Dazmine threw up her hands. “I’m just saying, if you die, she’d probably want to be here.”

“I’m not going to die. I’m fated to conquer the world, remember?” I tried to smile again, but disgust pooled in my mouth at the thought, so I moved on. “And Nara has a concoction for everything. See?” I added as the nearest door burst open and the silver-haired faerie I’d come to know as a mother figure flew in with an armful of supplies.

“What got you?” Nara breathed, sinking onto her knees before me to examine the wound.

“I’m not sure. That’s why I need you.”

I lifted my gaze over her shoulder to focus on the seven-foot faerie who’d just lumbered in after her, tattoos spiraling up his neck and head.

“You really think my eyes can detect specific degeneration of wound to find out what type of poison infects you?” Barberro boomed out. When I only clenched my mouth together, he jabbed one giant finger in the air—his only index finger left, after his hand had been torn off in Hallow’s Perch. “Because I can. You are lucky you have me, fyka. Now hold still. Don’t talk. Try not to scream.” He lowered his voice. “Unless you want to scream my name. It is the only type of loud noise Barberro allows. FYKALA NEH ROOTMI!” he yelped in Sorronian when he peered into my wound.

“Well?” I gritted out. Is Dazmine right? Do I need to bring Rayna over here so that I can tell her goodbye for the last time?

“It’s poison, alright,” Barberro confirmed. “A common one, though. Locksbane.”

Nara visibly sagged with relief, wiping a trickle of sweat off her brow before rummaging through her supplies and wrapping a long strip of gauze around and around my abdomen. I clenched my jaw as the sharp pain shot through me all over again. Locksbane might be common, yes, but why the hell hadn’t I been informed as Fated General that my guards’ spears were dipped in the shit?

“Well?” Terrin asked from behind Nara. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” she exhaled on a shaky breath, finally cinching me up tight and tying the ends together, “that I have all the ingredients to reverse the effects, but it’s going to take at least twenty-four hours to brew, Coen.” Nara hammered me with a glare. “You need to rest until then. Save your strength.”

And be more careful next time, she thought. I know you’ve been sitting on that wound for multiple hours. It could have festered past the point of my help.

Sorry, Nara, I said back, but left it at that. I’d never make a promise to choose myself over Rayna, even if it meant my wounds had to fester. She was my top priority, and she’d needed me tonight. That was a non-negotiable.

“One more thing.” I switched my gaze to Sasha and Sylvie, lowering my voice so that none of the deckhand down below might hear. “Today, I was in the Sorronian library when an archivist held me down with some kind of telekinesis power similar to Object Summoning and I… I couldn’t Walk.”

Sasha pursed her lips while Sylvie wrung her hands together. “You think other magic can override your Walking power?” she whispered.

“Maybe not any magic.” I thought back to Rayna’s sundew wrapping around me last year, how I’d been able to teleport away from their hold. “But magic like yours… I need to know.”

“Coen,” Nara interjected with a glare, “you shouldn’t use your power in this condition.”

I waved a hand, much like Rayna had earlier, feigning nonchalance. “I’ll just try to Walk to my private quarters and climb straight into bed. I promise.” I nodded at Sasha and Sylvie. “Hold me down.”

They glanced at each other, mirrored expressions of concern reflecting off each other’s faces, but the next second, they nodded. Without even raising their hands, invisible grips tightened around me, anchoring onto both of my arms.

I reached for my dark, fathomless magic.

And grasped onto nothing.

It was still there, hovering just beyond my reach as if the current wind was blowing it up above my head, but I couldn’t pull myself into it. Like Sasha and Sylvie’s magic had truly chained me to the ship.

“Damn. You really can’t Walk?” Terrin said, his mouth falling open.