[KINDLE'S PoV]

I had another nightmare.

This time instead of the ruins of Ignus or the horrors of the battlefield, it was Lydia. She sat high atop a throne made of the corpses of everyone I love and painted her lips crimson with their blood. She kissed me, and my lips wore it too.

I woke shivering and nauseous. Air, that's what I needed. My feet moved on their own, following the familiar path from my room to the roof, though I regretted it when I opened the door and was met with a flurry of fresh snow. Cold, too cold. But it woke me up, jolted me back to reality. I sent heat and fire down through my feet, melting the thin dusting of snow on the stones.

The morning sunlight was what really caught me off guard. Well, at least I wouldn't have to force myself back to sleep. I sat on the wall and listened to the call of the morning birds, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the swelling hope in my chest that one of them might be a raven. Trying unsuccessfully to ignore how big, empty, and quiet the roof felt without Blondie there to bother me.

She didn't have to write to me personally if she didn't want to. I'd take a report on the happenings of the palace, an inquiry of Faye's wellbeing— by Naresharakh, I'd even accept an announcement of how deeply she'd fallen in love with Prince Casimir if it meant hearing from her.

Nearly two weeks had passed since her departure for Realta. Rhi returned without a scratch, happy to report that she'd "delivered the human with no struggle," and all was well and good. but then day after day passed without an update, without a word. Silence.

So, my worries branched in two distinct paths. The first, someone had figured out she was a spy, confiscated the blood vial, and locked her away in a dungeon somewhere. The other, she realized she was more comfortable among her own kind, gave up on the Abandoned Order entirely, and had settled into a life of luxury at the palace.

Obviously, I couldn't voice these concerns to Faye. She had enough to fret over. And seeing as Carlyle decided he would be of more use in Lumina, I didn't even have him to commiserate with. In a moment of desperation, when the ten-day mark hit and I still hadn't received even a single letter, I'd foolishly mentioned my worries to Nar.

"Ooh," she'd mused as if I'd asked her opinion on dinner options. "My gold's on dungeon. I bet she screwed up minute-one and has been living off stale bread for the past week and a half."

"Thanks."

She tossed her hands up in apology, though the glint of amusement never left her eyes. "Hey, I'm nothing if not consistent."

Lesson learned—suffer in silence, at least where a particular human is concerned.

Once the nightmare was firmly pushed to the back of my mind and the nausea subsided, I made my way back inside and toward the kitchen. I had about an hour or so until the others would rise and join me, and seeing as Lydia was still away in Nox for the Festival of the Mother's Ascent, there was no harm in taking the time to bake something.

Or not. I opened cabinet after cabinet to find only dust and a lonely tin of tea leaves. "Well," I muttered. Though I knew we were tight on resources as of late, I hadn't realized how much. Taking down the tin, I set to boiling some water.

Faye ambled into the room as I pulled the pot from the hearth minutes later, yawning broadly. "Should I pour another cup?" I asked.

She combed her fingers through her tangle of hair and nodded as she took a seat at the table. "No tea leaves though, please, just the hot water."

She accepted the cup with a murmur of thanks and sleepily dug into the little pouch she'd sewn into the bodice of her dress, procuring a sugar-cube-sized block of sea salt. She stirred the salt into the water, then inhaled the steam with a satisfied sigh before taking a gulp.

Keldans.

"So," she said after another sip, "you ready for tonight?"

I sat down across from her with a mug of my own and grimaced. Though I'd steeped the leaves too long and the resulting tea had a strong, bitter aftertaste, her words were more unpleasant. At least I could add sugar to the tea. "I was hoping you would forget," I said honestly.

"Haha." Faye's eyes were forgivingly soft as she detailed her hopes to me. "He'll only have three guards tonight, and according to Emrys, Jakoby won't be among them. So if you can play distraction well enough, this could be it. We could be out of here by tomorrow."

It was a pretty thought. Before Lydia even returned from Nox tomorrow evening, our family could be far from her reach. Starting over. A lovely fantasy indeed. "First, we need to see what our numbers are."

How much of the Order stood with us, with Seraphim's original dream, and how many stood with Lydia? That would be the deciding factor of how soon and how successful our escape would be—the pipe-dream of freeing Seraphim from his venom prison aside.

I got my answer within the hour, as a mere handful of friendly faces trickled into the kitchen. Pina was there, of course, and she'd brought along a few other merfolk—a red-scaled fellow named Kael, and a set of yellow-and-green-scaled quintuplets I could never tell apart.

Rhiannon and Isidor showed as well. They came alone, but that didn't surprise me. There were only three angels in the Order—the Villiers brothers and Rhi—and of the Noxians... well, Isidor was the only one I knew we could trust.

Emrys arrived with fellow dryads Delphi and Thyme, and Inari pulled up the rear, literally dragging Bartok—a bear shifter who was massive and intimidating even in his human form—by his ear.

After a few minutes of hushed chatter amongst the gathered, it became clear that no one else was coming. This was everyone. These fifteen individuals were the only members of the Order we could count on. Compared to our early days, with Seraphim at the helm, these numbers were laughable. But, I reminded myself as I closed the kitchen door and cleared my throat, a few reliable souls were better than going it alone.

"Thank you for coming," I said quietly, making a point to meet each of the multicolored gazes individually and trying my best to ignore the growing tremor in my hands. Faye took her place at my side, nodding warmly for me to continue. "Truly, the risk it took you to step forward is more appreciated than we can even begin to explain."

"How's about you give it a shot?" Bartok rumbled from the far wall. Despite his stature and the steady glower on his face, he looked almost to be hiding behind Inari. "This is a coup, right? Why now? And how?"

I hesitated under the weight of so many questioning stares, my nerves becoming unavoidable. Even with Faye's gentle hand on my back, I considered apologizing, calling everything off, and retreating to my rooftop sanctuary. Naresharakh knows I had never been, would never be, the leading type. That was what put me in this mess in the first place.

Mercifully, Faye spoke up. "Up until now we've been hesitant to make an enemy of Lydia, and with her all of Nox. But we believe we've finally settled on a way to free ourselves without giving up on our original dream."

"Are we gonna kill Queen Lydia?" One of the quintuplets, the one with the ringlets, gasped. Despite her tone, her expression looked more excited than nervous.

Faye paled ever so slightly. "Hopefully it won't come to that."

"What are we gonna do then?" Ringlet pressed.

I finally found my voice, though the words I had to share weren't exactly ideal. "We're going to join with Blood and Steel."

The room erupted. It was hard to pinpoint exactly what emotion reigned supreme. There was anger, definitely, but also some fear, confusion, and a healthy dose of shock. Outrage, maybe?

Whatever it was, it took Faye, Inari, and I several minutes to calm everyone down. One of the dryads, Thyme, excused themselves from the kitchen and didn't return. I couldn't exactly blame them. Blood and Steel had a reputation, and even though no one in the Order could claim clean hands—except Serpina, and that was only because the rest of us worked to keep it that way—they still had their limits.

Once the energy in the crowded room lowered to reasonable levels, discussion began. Questions. Why were we joining them, when we'd turned down every invitation they'd sent us for the past two years? How were we joining them, when no one knew where they operated from?

Pina stepped to my other side. "I've been exchanging letters with one of their leaders. Though for security reasons they haven't revealed their identity or exact location, I was able to pinpoint the region they're operating out of."

This only sparked more questions. Faye, Serpina, and I did our best to answer everything we could, but too many times I found myself responding with "we don't know yet."

An hour later, the kitchen was empty save for Faye and me. She prepared herself another mug of steaming saltwater and smiled at me. "That was certainly something, wasn't it?"

"Something," I grunted from my seat that the table, my head in my hands to stop the nervous hammering.

"We don't have to do this today if you're not feeling up to it. I don't mind," she said, but I knew she didn't mean it. She'd been waiting for me to give her the go-ahead ever since that afternoon in Carmen's shop.

Besides, there was no better day to do it. Lydia was away, as was the rest of her entourage, save for the smug, cat-faced fairy woman Lydia left behind to dose Seraphim up with venom whenever she traveled. Rheya. I hated her nearly as much as I hated Jakoby, simply by merit of her condescending looks and grating voice.

We waited until sunset to make the trek upstairs to the throne room. There was no point in trying earlier. Seraphim slept for all but four or five hours, and those hours always seemed to fall somewhere in the middle of the night. But sure enough, when we reached the doors they were guarded by Rheya, Alexei, and Juriah— while Rheya was Noxian, the other two were shifters. A wolf and a crane respectively. Why they held such loyalty to Lydia was beyond me.

"Her Grace won't be back until tomorrow, pet." Rheya sneered as I approached.

I bit back a snide remark of my own, working instead to put a pleasant expression on my face and respond with an even tone. "I'm aware, we're actually here for Seraphim."

Alexei crossed his thick arms over his chest, glaring at Faye and me with sharp gold eyes. "Well, that's not happening."

"Oh, but this is on Lydia's request," Faye chimed in, her smile warm. "Seraphim has been unwell recently, she wanted a healer to check up on him while she's away."

Rheya bristled, probably at Faye's casual use of Lydia's name. Of the Noxian's in the Order, Isidor was the only one who ever dared refer to her like that. The others all called her something long, pretentious, or both. "The Holy Mother never said anything to me about a healer visit."

I raised an eyebrow. "And the Holy Mother tells you everything now, does she?"

Juriah yawned from his place against the wall, running a slender, pale hand through equally pale hair. "Just let her in, there's no harm in it."

"But the queen put me in charge!" Rheya huffed. Even when she stood to her full height she was a full foot shorter than Faye, and her lavender eyes didn't hold the same intimidation as Lydia's. She just came off like a child when she glared up at me. "Fine. She can go in, but you're waiting out here."

"No, I'm to accompany Faye."

"You're to wait out here or no one goes in."

Faye touched my arm. "It's alright, I'll be fine alone."

I wasn't convinced. In fact, I was of firmly the opposite opinion. Seraphim was volatile in this state. While the man we knew would never raise a finger against Faye, the man beyond those doors wasn't him. "I—"

"You heard her, pet. Now sit, stay, and maybe you'll get a treat."

I briefly contemplated a few particularly bloody ways to wipe the derisive smirk off her face. You'd think by now I'd be used to the pet thing, it was every Noxian Order member's favorite way to refer to me: The Queen Mother's beloved pet dragon. No identity that wasn't tied to her.

I kept myself in check and nodded once, dropping my glare to the floor as Alexei and Juriah stepped aside to let Faye into the throne room. I caught her arm as she passed and murmured, "just scream and I'll be there."

She gave me a little nod, but it was for my sake, not hers. Her faith in Seraphim was unwavering as always. Faye slipped through the open door, and Alexei closed it behind her.

I waited. Still, silent, listening intently for a scream or sound of struggle. If he really wanted to, Seraphim could snap Faye's neck with little more than a twist of his wrists. And then they'd both be dead, just like that. Suddenly, I was hoping for a scream. At least that way I'd have an indication of what was happening.

But when the scream came, it wasn't Faye. It was Seraphim.

Instantly, Alexei, Juriah, and even tiny Rheya moved to block my advance. "You can't go in! If Her Grace learns I let you in there she'll have my head!" Rheya shrieked.

From inside the room there was a crash, followed by the sound of glass on tile as something shattered.

I shoved past her. "And if something happened to them I'll have it."

Alexei tried to grab me, but he regretted it when his hands came in contact with my super-heated skin. I slammed the door open. The scene within would have been comical if not for the circumstances.

Seraphim crouched in the far corner with his hands pressed firmly against his ears. Faye stood not far away, singing, looking serene as ever despite the chaos around her. Seraphim had knocked over a table, scattering the fruit the was likely meant to be his breakfast. The vase of flowers that usually adorned the piano had been smashed against the far wall behind Faye. He'd thrown it, probably.

"Faye," I warned, but she ignored me and continued her gentle song. She took another step closer to where Seraphim cowered.

"Get back!" Seraphim groaned, pressing his shaking hands tighter to his head. "I swear if you approach me, woman, I will kill you!"

I believed him.

Faye, on the other hand, pressed ever forward, her voice unfaltering. I couldn't imagine the intense ache she must feel, being that close to him. Or maybe it was relief now. As much as I tried to understand the mechanics of a Soulbond, the finer details would always elude me. Regardless, I didn't envy them.

"Get back," Seraphim repeated. His hand scrambled for something and he settled on an orange, which he hurled with violent strength a solid three feet to the right of Faye. He pressed his forehead against the wall, shuddering with the weight of his frightened breaths. "Get out of my head."

Faye shook her head, continuing her slow approach and soft song. She stopped in front of him and I was coiled tight as a bowstring, ready to jump between them as soon as things went wrong. She crouched in front of him, and as tense as Seraphim was, he surprisingly didn't lash out immediately at the contact. She brushed a gentle hand across his sweat-matted cheek.

"Get away," he growled weakly, but leaned into her touch. It was instinct. Even if his mind didn't know it, his soul longed for her. He'd been starving for years now. His trembling hand wandered to her hair. "Oh," he breathed, his cloudy blue eyes flitting across every inch of her face. Not quite recognition, but understanding.

My skin blazed with embarrassment—I never did get used to seeing them together, and a moment like this felt far too private for me to intrude on. I trailed my gaze to the windowed wall, where the curtains were parted only the slightest sliver, to allow faint purple moonlight in. I wanted to shut it out. Movalissa had no more place here than I did.

The moment was fragile. It shattered quickly, with a sharp gasp from Faye as Seraphim's face contorted in confusion and rage and his hands closed around her throat.

I acted in a panic, doing the only thing I could think of at the moment to get him away from her—I rushed forward and kicked Seraphim right in the face. It worked, if a bit gracelessly. He fell back against the wall with his nose gushing blood as I caught Faye in my arms.

"We're leaving now," I said, hoisting her to her feet.

She shook her head and drew rasping breaths. "It was there. I was so close, I almost had him. I just—one more try, please! Please!"

But Seraphim was furious now, back to throwing whatever objects he could get his blood-soaked fingers on, and this time he wasn't missing. I grabbed Faye despite her struggling and positioned her in front of me, facing the door, while I kept my back to Seraphim.

I managed to get Faye out of the room, where the trio waited with varying expressions. Rheya looked pleased, Alexei was curious, Juriah simply seemed tired and uninterested in the whole ordeal.

"I will be informing Her Radiance about this!" Rheya shouted after me before quietly ordering the others to tend to Seraphim at once.

I didn't care to respond, instead focusing all my energy on half-dragging-half-carrying Faye from the scene. The further she got from him, the better. She couldn't think clearly right now when every cell in her body was screaming Seraphim, Seraphim, Seraphim.

Hours later, after she'd had several servings of salt-water and an especially strong cup of tea with a splash or two of something stronger, she sat on her cot and looked at me through her unruly curtain of hair. "I really almost had him."

"I know you did." I sighed and leaned my head back against the wall. I hadn't wanted to admit it, but for a moment I really thought we got him back.

She pulled her legs up to her chest, reaching a hand in front of her to grab at nothing. "Being that close to him, I could see the venom in his mind like threads of silk. If I'd had the chance to cut just a few more." She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, no doubt fighting back her tears. "She's really in there so deep. And when she comes back tomorrow, and Rheya tells her what we did, all those threads and more will be right back in place."

I had never seen Faye looks so hopeless. And truly, nothing in the world scared me more. Not even Lydia in all my worst nightmares could shake me as hard as Faye missing the light in her eyes.

We'll free him, we'll save him, I wanted to say. But the words died on my lips. I knew the most we could ever do was run. In the end, it was all I was good at.