Page 11

Larkess’s voice still rang in his ears, pounded against his thoughts, as though he was living through the day all over again.

“I am sorry, my boy. The locket will not revert,” the sylvan elder had said.

Cedric had made no attempt to hide his shock, the red-hot anger pulsing under his skin. “What do you mean? You are the one who transfigured it. This is your magic.”

“Something is blocking me, locking me out. I do not understand it, but I cannot access it.”

The speed with which Polonius ran back out of Elderglade might have been something to admire about the horse under gentler circumstances. But in that moment, it was all Cedric could do to get out of there before he set the sacred village ablaze with the magnitude of his grief.

Tenebris Nox was waiting on the other side of the vine-woven gate, unwilling to provoke the magic that protected the mixedborn sanctuary from darker forces—like the nocterrian’s shadowborn power.

“Elle was able to get through,” Cedric had reminded them before venturing through the gate after the rest of their party. “Elderglade did accept her . . . eventually.”

“I think I shall pass on being ‘accepted’ the same way the Revenant was,” Nox had said drily, eliciting a somewhat flustered noise from Cedric.

“That’s not what I⁠—”

The nocterrian flashed a fang-laced grin. “Oh, do go on in. Best not to tempt fate, I think. Besides, I have this one to keep me company.” They gestured at Sid before taking a seat on the forest floor, one long leg draped over the other, their back braced against the trunk of a familiar bowed tree.

To their credit, Nox truly hadn’t seemed to mind waiting. When Cedric and Polonius cantered back through the gate, the nocterrian appeared perfectly content, drawing lines in the dirt with one of their fighting batons, Sid curled up at their side.

Content, if a bit surprised, perhaps, to see Cedric having returned so soon.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Cedric dismounted and guided Polonius to rest under the bent branches of the tree—the makeshift canopy that Elyria had crafted upon his first visit to Elderglade. Sid lifted her head, cocking it as Cedric approached.

“That was fast.” Nox’s gaze darted between Cedric and the gate. “Where are the others?”

“Oh, I expect they’ll join us shortly,” Cedric said through gritted teeth, tugging up the collar of his doublet to guard against the frosty air. Winter wasn’t far off now.

Cedric threw open the flap of his saddlebag, pulling out a small linen-wrapped bundle and tossing it to the nocterrian. “Here. Better tuck that away in your shadow fold again. Turns out we won’t be needing it yet.”

Nox caught the bundle deftly, their dark eyebrows shooting up their forehead. They unwrapped one end to reveal two shining golden spires and one jagged edge. “I do not understand,” they said, frowning at the crown-half in their hands.

“You’re in good company, in that case.” Cedric drew his mother’s locket from where it hung around his neck, feeling the weight of it against his palm. “Elder Larkess was unable to undo her transfiguration on the other half. It remains like this. And without reuniting the crown, we have no way of freeing Aurelia from the Sanctum, so”—his voice cracked—“we have officially lost our best hope for finding Elle.”

Heat pulsed in his hands, the veins under the thin skin of his wrist illuminated with the sunfyre that now coursed freely through his blood. The locket glowed, intricate carvings appearing on its gilded surface at the brush of his power.

A moment later, all that heat dissipated, the violent energy that had been building in his chest fizzling out.

Cedric raked both his hands through his hair. “I don’t know where to go from here. The trails Ollie and Jocelyn were tracking have run cold—the two of them are already en route back to Kingshelm. Tenny has had no luck getting any additional information out of King Callum or what’s left of the council. Scouts through the Midlands are coming up empty. It’s like the entire stars-damned Cult of Malakar has gone underground, and I⁠—”

“You had hoped this would be the solution,” Nox offered, their voice soft.

Cedric blinked rapidly, trying his best to banish the wetness he could feel pooling against his lashes. “What a foolish thing it is, to hope.”

“That’s not true, Ric.” Kit’s voice was simultaneously balm and torture as she flitted through the gate, her horse’s reins in one hand, a basket piled high with baked goods dangling from the other. “Tristan and Thraigg are coming. The sylvans wouldn’t let us leave without provisions,” she said with a shrug, then added, “And you aren’t foolish. None of us are. We know Ellie’s out there. We just need a way to get to her.”

At that, Sid leapt to her feet, making a sharp sort of yowling sound as she stopped in front of Cedric and butted her head against his shin.

Kit tilted her head. “Is she . . . scolding you?”

Despite himself, despite everything, Cedric felt the edge of his lips quirk. “She has a tendency to do that.”

“It would seem she does not agree with your inclination to lose hope, knightling,” said Nox.

Cedric blew out a breath, crouching to run his hand through Sid’s strange, shadowy fur. “What exactly is it that you are proposing here, then? Without Aurelia’s help, is there even any chance of finding her? I don’t even know where we would⁠—”

“Aurelia is not the only celestial who may be able to lend guidance,” said Nox, running the pad of their finger along one of their horns the way they often did when deep in thought. They pursed their lips, as though contemplating whether or not to say what they did next. “And I may just know where we can go.”