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But we simply shot higher, Coen’s head cracking against a branch above us.

“I’m so sorry!”

Without thinking, I sent out a hum to the ironbark. Its branches converged on us like rough, grayish-black hands and pushed us back down until Coen’s feet were firmly planted on the ground once more.

“Well, that’s one way to do it,” he replied cheerfully.

Biting my lip, I touched the top of his head to feel for a welt. “Are you okay?”

“Better than ever, actually.”

I unwrapped my legs from around his waist and hopped to the ground, crossing my arms as if I could hide the tears still welling behind my eyes. “You don’t need to pretend for my sake. I hurt you.”

Coen cocked an eyebrow at me and crossed his arms right back, muscles bulging. “I thought you would’ve known by now, Rayna. I have lied and stolen and killed, but I have never pretended, least of all with you. Now.” The smoky quartz in his eyes darkened a shade, all traces of his earlier humor fading away. “Are you going to tell me why Mr. Gleekle gave you another power and then abandoned you?”

I glanced away, blowing air out through pursed lips. So much for getting any more touches from him. After his momentary lapse in control, he seemed to be making an effort to keep a strip of space between us, although both of our chests were still rising and falling more quickly than usual, and my lips still burned and tingled from his kiss.

“After the Branding, I told Mr. Gleekle I needed a second to myself,” I murmured. “When he hesitated, I may or may not have persuaded him that leaving me alone would be a good idea.”

Coen’s eyes flashed dangerously. “And why would leaving you alone be a good idea?”

I barely refrained from throwing up my hands, afraid that one wrong movement would tear down the jungle. “Because I can’t go back to the Esholian Institute like this! What if I throw someone else into a tree or make Emelle start levitating in her sleep or…”

I didn’t dare glance down at my thigh, where my knives were still strapped—weapons I hadn’t touched since Hallow’s Perch, but ones that my new magic might touch against my will. I could still see them soaring into the air and turning on Garvis whenever I closed my eyes.

At the very thought, a tremor coursed through me, one Coen tracked with narrowed eyes.

“That’s it.” He surprised me by holding out a rough, calloused hand. “I’m taking you back to the ship.”

“You… you are?” I stared at his outstretched hand.

“Yes. Sasha and Sylvie will be able to help you get a handle on the basics of Object Summoning. And then…” His eyes drilled into me, holding me captive. “If you want, you can stay with me. You don’t have to come back to the Esholian Institute.”

“But what about Mydusia’s command?” The question had left my lips before I could stop it, and I cursed myself for even bringing it up.

Coen just smiled.

“When I was in the Uninhabitable Zone, Jagaros kept insisting that you were safe with me. He showed me a memory of when he made his own oath with Dyonisia, stating that any faerie born on this island belongs to him by magical law. Which makes you…”

“Under his rule, not Dyonisia’s,” I breathed, finally placing my hand in his. “Meaning the command doesn’t apply to me.”

Of course, I had always considered Jagaros my rightful ruler from the moment he’d told me he was the king of old, but I hadn’t realized it was official on a magical level. While the rest of the island might be in danger from Coen, I had been exempt this whole time.

“I wasn’t sure until I saw you,” Coen said. “But now I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

Slowly, a smile spread across my face—and not just because his other hand had grasped the back of my neck, his fingers splayed out across my Mind Manipulating brand. “You found Jagaros. He truly was in the Uninhabitable Zone.”

Coen grinned, his canines on full display—canines that had just dragged down the skin of my neck. My stomach fluttered. “Yes.”

“And?”

He didn’t say his next words out loud, and I didn’t blame him; even though Rodhi controlled most of the island’s spiders, there were still other Wild Whisperers on the Good Council and other ways to spy. His voice simply grazed my mind.

Jagaros has officially invited any of us who want to fight to meet with him in three days’ time to form a plan. He’s in.

“Okay, yeah, that’s… not as great as it could be, but we’re getting there!”

Coen had Walked me to Sasha and Sylvie’s quarters on the ship half an hour ago, where the twins had been asleep in swaying hammocks. They’d both screamed upon our arrival, but as soon as Coen had managed to convince them we weren’t walking nightmares and explained my predicament, they’d been eager to help.