Ren shoved a branch out of the way as he headed deeper into the trees. He may have said he wanted to check the wards, but there was nothing to check. He just couldn’t stand being around so many others anymore. Having all of them crowded around in his space was uncomfortable—overwhelming, even. The cabin was not meant for so many. It was for a quiet life. One he’d always dreamed about.

  And yet now here he was, playing host to elf and human alike, embroiled in their problems.

  Ren stopped walking just shy of the boundary of the wards. They were invisible to all eyes, even his own. If he had not been there when they were first placed and been the one to renew them, he’d be none the wiser. Anyone who should not be crossing them would suddenly feel a strong urge to be elsewhere.

  Which was exactly why everyone was gathered in his cabin now.

  They needed a place to hide and regroup and plot to murder a queen or whatever it was they thought was best. He had signed up for a revenge plot against his fellow mages and Gavaran. He had not signed up to save the worlds.

  Ren leaned toward the ward and trailed his fingers over it. A familiar tingle ran up his arm, reassuring him it was still there and hiding his sanctuary.

  He didn’t know why he’d agreed to let them come here. After their failure of keeping Sterling from the elven throne, he could have said “oh well, too bad” and walked away. But no, he’d taken one look at his distressed allies and opened his big mouth to volunteer assistance.

  Ren pulled his hand back and tugged off his glove, studying the stain of shadows on his skin. If he stared long enough, he would almost swear they moved, but what was the difference between this and what was inside Sterling? How were hers sentient and his weren’t? Would he wake up one day and find them controlling his body and magic like they’d done with her? Was it because she was an elf and he a human?

  Ren balled his fingers into a fist. So many questions and yet no closer to the answers. He didn’t regret mentioning what the Summer King had offered, but he couldn’t say he was eager to go back there.

  He unfurled his fingers and tugged his glove back into place. But go he would, because sometimes it was better to be known as a hero than a villain.

  Although Ren couldn’t deny that burning the world down did sound appealing right about now.

  Seraiah leaned against a tree and lifted her dagger to the sunlight, tilting it this way and that as she studied the blade. Kestrel had returned inside the cabin, leaving Seraiah to wait for Ren’s return on her own. The quiet had been nice at first. On the journey here, there was always someone who had a question or wanted to talk about her visions or the journal or something.

  This might be her last moment of peace for who knows how long.

  Seraiah lowered the blade and tested the edge with her finger. Kestrel had taught her how to sharpen it if it ever grew dull, but seeing as how Seraiah had never used it for anything, the blade was as sharp as it had been on the day she’d gotten it.

  Seraiah smiled to herself as she remembered the way Kai had presented it to her.

  Her smile quickly faded when she felt the prickling sensation of being watched, but there was no one else out here. Well, no one else but Ren.

  It took her a moment to spot him, blending into the shadows of another tree several feet away. She had no idea how long he’d been standing there.

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  Seraiah used the blade to beckon him over, but didn’t put it away. Perhaps she’d have a use for it in this conversation.

  “Spying on me now, are we?” she asked when he approached. She flipped the blade, catching it easily, and was pleased when his eyes followed the movement.

  “You looked like you were enjoying yourself, so I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  So he’d seen her grinning to herself like a fool, then. Great.

  “I was waiting for you. I have something I’d like to discuss.”

  “Of course you do.” Ren crossed his arms over his chest. “Let me guess. It involves the Summer King.”

  “Why didn’t you mention he offered to tell you about the shadows?”

  Ren quirked a brow. “Do you not trust me?”

  “I never said that. Answer the question.”

  “I didn’t mention it because I was a little distracted. I’d thought I was about to have to rescue my allies from a different fae court, but then, to my surprise, someone uses the shadows to summon me to my own cabin and ambushes me with a plan that must be completed immediately. Never mind how many days I rode through the desert to get here. Would you like me to go through all the details of my days from the moment we parted to the moment I returned? I didn’t keep a journal, so the memory may be fuzzy, but I can perfectly recall the feeling of sand rubbing against—”

  “No. Thank you,” she said before he could get any further with that description. “You can tell me why you declined the Summer King’s offer, though. You were meant to be researching the shadows, so help me understand why you would turn down an offer like that. Unless you were purposefully doing your best to hinder us.”

  “So you don’t trust me then?”

  She shrugged. “I suppose it depends on your answer.” She tightened her grip on her dagger and held it pointed in Ren’s direction. If he took it as a threat, all the better.

  “I turned him down because I didn’t trust him, and also because I knew I would not be able to pay for multiple answers. It was either find out information about Gavaran and where he was getting these potions that he’d been feeding to Sterling or find out information about my own shadows.”

  “Your own shadows?”

  “Yes. The way the Summer King worded it, I assumed he would only tell me something about the ones marking my skin. He made multiple references to them and about how I stunk of corpse.” Ren leaned closer to her, ignoring the dagger she pointed at him. “Do you think I smell like corpse?”

  “I’m not going to smell you,” she said, quickly lowering her blade lest he impale himself on it before she finished her questioning. “Wouldn’t information on your shadows be more than what we had before?”

  “Hard to say, and I wasn’t going to give up information that might be more important to find out. If you haven’t noticed, the shadows marking me and now you are not quite the same as whatever lives in Sterling.”

  She had wondered about it. If they fed off magic, she wasn’t sure how they kept growing on her. She didn’t have magic. Her visions were an ability. It wasn’t the same thing as far as she was concerned.

  And how had Ren been able to pass his shadows to her and then take some of them back? How was there a connection between them, and was it possible to forge such a connection to Sterling? What if the thing in Sterling would be able to control anyone with the shadows?

  Oh, gods.

  “Are you all right?” Ren asked, breaking her out of the spiral she’d been about to go down. “Should I go fetch someone?”

  “No. No, I’m fine. I was just thinking and . . .”

  “Well, perhaps you should put this down before you hurt yourself.” Ren took the dagger from her grip, and she let him, still trapped in the horror of her thoughts. “You suddenly grew very pale, and if you faint with this in your hand, it’s going to look very bad for me.”

  “What if it can control us too?” she asked. “What if we will become its army?” She had to share this horror. That would make it better. Maybe Ren could tell her it was impossible. Maybe—

  “Ah, yes. I think it’s best not to think about that too hard or the fear will overwhelm you, and you will find it hard to go about your day.”

  Seraiah stared at him.

  “Seraiah?”

  She pulled her gaze from Ren to see Kai walking toward them.

  “And I think that is my cue to leave.” Ren dropped his hand and stepped away from her. She hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding her arm, propping her up.

  She watched him walk away, passing by Kai, before turning back.

  “Oh, before I forget. Would you return this for me?” Ren held her dagger out to Kai, hilt first.

  Once Kai had taken the dagger, Ren headed for the cabin without a backward glance.

  “What was that about?” Kai asked, passing the dagger back to her.

  She shook her head as she shoved the blade back into its sheath on her thigh. “Nothing. You were looking for me?”

  “Yes, I wanted to ask you about your visions.”

  Seraiah forced a smile, wondering exactly what Kestrel had said when she’d returned inside.