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Brand did his breathing, holding and exhaling as many times as it took to keep the red from devouring his vision. It took a while. “They what?”

“You heard me. Wanna go burn the Elder Halls down?”

Yes.

“No. We have to respect their process.” Dragonshite. “How many?”

She knew exactly what he was asking. “Seventeen the first time.”

Sisters save him. He was trying. He was really fucking trying.

“It happened more than once?” Only the slightest growl in his tone. He was doing well. Fine.

“The only reason they’re all still alive, filth in the air or no, is because the second vote was less. Nine. She’s bringing them around.”

Of course she was. That wasn’t the point.

Brand reminded himself that the vote to cull a Keeper had to be unanimous. That—if nothing else—his own brother would have to agree to her murder for it to go through, and Araxis would never.

“Where’s Lyriat? Mag?” He needed a baseline before he did anything else.

“The Demon King started spending his free time out in the trilliatum.” She rubbed at her sternum, looking out one of the huge windows. “I, uh, followed him yesterday, thinking I was clever, except…well…I reckon he wouldn’t like it if he knew I saw him weeping, so don’t tell.”

Fuck. What a mess. He refused the guilt trying to rise, knowing just how truly necessary his absence had been. That he was far more useful now than he would’ve been before, and it would hopefully make all the difference.

“No word on Nyri or Bal, then?”

“No, and it’s starting to cause problems beyond the heartbreak of it. In fact, Thaddeus went to Lunara to ask for aid and mediation between the Demons and Wolflords. Her answer was the catalyst for the first vote. She’s…too sweet for her own good, if most everyone else is to be believed.”

Brand considered that. “That does sound like her. What do you believe?”

Fern clicked her tongue. “Come on, twig dick. We both know better than to think she’s sweet and nothing else. That bitch could literally command the blood from everyone’s veins and the head from their body if she wanted to—without Illamiata’s help. I’ve taken shits that are smarter than the people doubting her.”

“True.” Luna would never, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t capable of it, if need be. “What about Mag?”

Her put upon sigh told him quite a bit. “He’s not doing much better, but he refuses to talk about anything. At least, not with me. Or the twins. Or Lunara. He was spending a lot of time with Lyriat until they had a spat the other morning. Don’t worry, though—I kept an eye on him for you.”

Brand dipped his chin. “Thank you, Fern. Truly. For…everything. I owe you quite a few apologies.”

Fern waved her hand and sat fully on his shoulder. “I don’t want them. I already know who you are. Can feel it. Giving you a hard time was for your good, not my own enjoyment. Though I never did get to taunt you out to the practice field for a bit of healthy decompression.” She tilted her head. “You know, there’s an awful lot that’s falling apart without you. A lot of chaos. I don’t say that to make you feel bad, just…please say you’re ready so we can all move the fuck on? We have shit to do.”

Brand wasn’t prepared for her words, or the way they hit. He never looked at it that way before—that people might count on him as much as he counted on them. That it went both ways.

“I’m ready enough.” He drew in a deep breath, and another, Stirling apparently sensing his momentary distress. The fox stretched and gave his head a lick before he climbed down to wrap himself around Brand’s neck. “Luna is the first⁠—”

“Oh my shitting springtime.” Fern squealed, not at all paying attention once she locked eyes on the animal. “Look at that perfect, handsome little snuggle!” She reached across to scratch under the fox’s chin. “Do you have a name, precious, or did twig dick neglect you? If he did, I’ll kill him and take you for myself. I will. Yes, I will.”

“This is Stirling. Apparently, my patience and proffered treats were sufficient, and he’s decided we are now attached.” Brand loosed a nervous chuckle. “I…rather adore him, actually, so if you could please refrain from⁠—”

“Relax. I’m giving you shit.” She patted Brand’s cheek. “Stirling is fine. Though, why you’d name a brown fox after something silver, I don’t know.”

Recoiling, Brand pulled Stirling from his neck and found that the fox did, indeed, have tawny brown and ivory fur. And the biggest, blackest eyes he’d ever seen on something so small.

Laughing, he said, “In my defense, this is not at all what he looked like in Nachthelliae.”

“I’m glad you saved him from that cunting shithole.” Fern shuddered. “Fucking hate that place. There’s something wrong with it.”

Brand didn’t think he was the one who did the saving in that scenario, but it didn’t matter at the moment. “You said that before.” The sight of Araxis cutting himself and Cordelia open flashed through his mind. “I have my own reasons to believe the same, but there are more pressing matters—like getting to Luna. I think I have an idea that will help her.”