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Tristan’s answering smile was sad. “Would you have been able to leave, knowing what was surely happening here? We needed some kind of answer before we could head back to Ric with our tail between our legs.”

“And did you? Find answers?”

Tristan and Zephyr exchanged another look.

Ollie frowned. “I take that as a yes. Tell us.”

Tristan opened his mouth, but the next sound Tenny heard wasn’t an explanation. It was a low, pained groan coming from the corner of the shack. She followed the noise, inhaling sharply as she realized that hadn’t been a bundle of blankets she’d seen before. A figure stirred against the floor, and Tenny’s eyes widened as she took in the full brown beard, then the familiar facial features.

The exact same ones she had just seen worn by another.

“Shit, he’s awake,” Tristan muttered.

“I’ve got it,” replied Zephyr, darting over to her disguise-doppelgänger, who writhed groggily against his restraints as he lay gagged and bound on the ground. There was the sound of tinkling glass as she searched through a small collection of vials and bottles sitting on top of a nearby crate, then proceeded to pour the contents of one into a goblet.

Tristan, meanwhile, sauntered over to the man and grabbed him under the armpits, hauling him upright into a seated position before pulling at the piece of fabric that was currently tied around his mouth.

“Motherfucking greenie! Arcanian scum!” the man rasped the instant his gag was removed, but with his hands and feet still bound and consciousness clearly having only just returned to him, that seemed to be the extent of what he could do. Which was why it didn’t seem like it took much effort for Tristan to hold his mouth open and Zephyr to pour her concoction into it, then brush her small hand over his throat until he swallowed.

“Oh, hush,” said Zephyr. “Back to bed with you now.”

The man could only give a few more grunts of protest before his eyes drifted shut again, and with a whump that sent a cloud of dust scattering into the air, he fell back on his side, fast asleep.

“Don’t worry, Ten,” said Tristan, and Tenny quickly schooled what must have been a horrified expression off her face. “Just a bit of somnium seed.”

Ollie arched a brow. “A bit?”

“Fine, a lot. But we can’t have the man blowing our cover. Not when Zephyr’s finally gotten access to some information that might actually help here. Your arrival truly couldn’t have been more perfectly timed, really.”

“Or depending on how you look at it, you might say the timing couldn’t have been worse,” Zephyr said quietly.

Tristan shrugged, then gave Tenny a pensive look. “I can’t say I’m thrilled you’re wrapped in this now, Ten. I don’t think Ric will be either.”

Tenny scoffed. “I’ve been wrapped up in this since the day I was born, evidently. My father was the architect of this mess. It’s only right I get to contribute to cleaning it up in some way or another.”

“Fair enough, then.” The knight rolled their unconscious prisoner back into the corner. “But when the real mess begins, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Tenny’s brow furrowed. “Is he . . . ? What are you going to do with him?”

“Tip him over the Chasm, same as he did to us?”

“Tristan.”

“Ugh, fine. You know I would never.” A beat, then under his breath, he added, “Because Zephyr wouldn’t let me.”

The sylvan loosed a derisive laugh, the sound at odds with the gentle demeanor Tenny had begun to associate her with. Then again, she was the one who had betrayed them all in the Crucible, so it was quite clear that Tenny didn’t actually know a thing about her.

“I believe what I actually said was that we should wait,” Zephyr insisted, “because I needed to study him in order to match his appearance. You’re the one who has been insistent on keeping him drugged instead of cutting our losses.”

Tristan huffed, raising both his hands, palms facing the ceiling, and moving them up and down as though he was weighing something. “A little somnium seed versus defenseless murder. Tough choice, it’s true.”

“Enough, you two,” Ollie interjected. “You’ve spent entirely too much time together on the road, I see.”

“Please, Tris,” said Tenny, eager to route the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Tell us what you found.”

“It would perhaps be easier to show you.” Tristan cleared off a large crate in the middle of the shack. “Go ahead, Zeph.”

The sylvan spread a few sheets of parchment out on the makeshift table.