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So many years of Ben telling her to let it go already. So many years of watching her friends move on. So many years of feeling the scar burn and itch. It hadn’t been in her head.

“So…” Mira cleared her throat, her voice shaky. “That means we have to extract Synth and destroy it.”

“Synth doesn’t behave like any other spell or potion,” Obryn cautioned.

Aidric ran a hand over his face. “There were thousands of Synth victims during the war. Why her?”

“Because none of them survived,” the Highmage answered.

Those who were directly targeted with Synth died a gruesome death. The only way to help them was to ease their passing. But she had received only a secondary dose through her mother, and it hadn’t been enough to kill Mira.

“Rakkley wants to get Synth back. How would it work?” she asked.

“I don’t know enough about magic transfers of this kind to be entirely sure, but my understanding is that because Synth is intertwined with your powers, he cannot extract it until he removes all of your magic.”

Aidric had gone entirely still next to her.

All of her magic. It would kill her.

The silence from Aidric was deafening. She could feel his magic still in the air. Cold. Threatening. His jaw set hard, fingers digging into the armchair.

“How did he know I have Synth?” Mira wondered.

Obryn shook his head. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Aidric stood up with purpose. “Any idea where Rakkley is?”

“No, but I will ask my sources.”

Killing Rakkley would be no easy task. He was one of the most experienced and powerful Wielders in the world. And they didn’t even know where he was.

Aidric buttoned up his blazer and shrugged his coat back on. “I’ll do the same.”

“I’ll come with you,” Mira offered.

“No. Stay at the estate for tonight. The shields there will protect you. Rakkley can’t get through them. At least for now.”

“The council is going back to wartime measures,” Obryn said. “Corvin is not pleased that his plan for an army of Wielders was foiled.”

This was exactly why the Primemage had wanted an army of Wielders under permanent enthrallment. But he still had one Wielder under enthrallment.

“We need to get to Corvin,” she said. “Take the amulet from him.”

She had to break the permanent enthrallment on Aidric. Especially now. Or he would be the council’s number one soldier for the most dangerous missions.

He grabbed her arm. “Listen to me, none of that matters now.”

“Of course it matters. He’s going to use you for—”

“Our goals align,” he interrupted her with venom in his voice. “We all want Rakkley dead. Corvin won’t need to enthrall me because I’ll gladly do it. I’ll fucking volunteer for it because I want to be the one to look him in the eyes when he dies.”

She swallowed.

“All that matters now is killing him,” he said, and with an angry crack in the air, he was gone.

—

She didn’t immediately go to the estate. She had done too much waiting around. Years of anticipating this danger. Feeling it burn in her arm. Now, she wanted to do something.