Martel watched Kaim as if he were expecting the younger man to attack. Hynn slid off his back as Kaim held up his hands to show his peaceful intentions. The two men stayed behind, hands clasped across their fronts, relaxed.

"I'm here as myself, Scholar. I'm no longer attached to my family."

"Prove it," Martel hissed. Swallowing, Kaim lifted his wide sleeve until his bicep was visible. A heavy, purple scar the size of a palm stretched at the top of his arm, just beneath the shoulder. The tip of a snout could just be seen, open and bearing jagged teeth. Seemingly satisfied but no less pleased, Martel finally sat down with a groan into his chair. He gestured at the group. Perching on the small, wooden chairs again, Seiren glanced at Madeleine, wondering how they should begin.

"How the tides have changed, Kaim Havris," Martel said with finality.

"Havris?" Seiren echoed, eyes almost popping out of her face. She whirled around to stare at Kaim. "You said your surname was Rouzarrien!"

"That's my name now." Kaim had the decency to look uncomfortable. "I've renounced my family name."

"Do the rest of your supporters know their leader is from House Havris?" Madeleine said sharply. Kaim didn't meet her gaze.

"How unlike you to actually step up for once. Is it because Leviat isn't there to do all your work any more?" Martel said with a curl of his lips.

"Shut it, old man!" Kaim flushed before turning to Madeleine. "And, no, my people don't know. I'd appreciate it if you keep it a secret. The only reason we have managed to survive for so long doing what we do, expanding our forces, is because I used to be from House Havris. Without my connections and knowledge of the Daemonium, we'd long have perished, just swept off the streets like some urchin — the same as all the other groups who have opposed Fautos. I'm the only chance the insurgents have of toppling that insane tyrant. You wouldn't have gotten into the palace at Falnash if not for me."

"That's very righteous of you." Martel tilted his head, one eyebrow raised. It seemed hearing Kaim's declaration of treason hadn't earned him any points in the old man's eyes.

"We did only get into the palace thanks to Kaim's help," Madeleine said. Seiren elbowed her.

"You're defending him?" she hissed.

"No, but we need Martel's help if we're going to catch... Kristen."

Seiren scowled, but Martel's interest was piqued.

"Oh? Remarkable that you survived the Daemonium's presence. And did you manage to get what you were looking for?"

"We... got confirmation the convict is in the palace. And she's working with the Daemonium."

"With rune magic," Kaim added.

Martel's brow furrowed. "That is a concerning thing to hear. Very concerning, indeed."

"You've heard about the break-in at the ancient library?" Kaim said, leaning forward. Martel surveyed him coolly before answering.

"Of course. Information like that won't escape me. They broke so many seals to enter I was surprised they didn't burn down the daemonic wing."

"That's where they went?"

"Indeed." Kaim eased out a breath through flared nostrils. "Such disregard for the ancient magics and their ancestors, to forcibly break through the charms and rules to access information they had no right to. King Mephis — may his Holiness prosper in the distant lands — would roll in his grave."

"We have reasons to believe they are planning to summon the royal daemon," said Kaim, his hands curled into fists on his lap. He gritted his teeth. "We need to get there before them."

"And what? Summon it with your own hands?" Martel chortled. "The daemon, which only responds to royal blood — the strongest of royal blood, no less — cannot be summoned by the likes of you, Kaim Havris. Perhaps not even Fautos. Prince Magus may stand a chance, but I highly doubt he's in any position to do that currently."

"Please tell us where the royal daemon is sealed. You must know. You worked in the archives."

"I do, but the information is of no use to you. You stand no chance in a fight against Fautos, never mind any member of his Daemonium, and he has already departed for the tomb." Martel shook his head with pity. "The only chance you might have of bettering his chances is with royalty. And he has Prince Magus."

"We have royal blood."

Seiren stared at Kaim, whose gaze was steely and confident. Hynn watched with wide eyes, a tiny figure at his side, her knuckle white from gripping his sleeve so hard.

"I beg your pardon?" Martel appeared as taken aback.

"We have royal blood." Kaim gazed apologetically at Hynn before facing the old man again. "I have Eleia Tophalis."

The name rang a distant bell. As Seiren frowned, Martel sucked in a breath.

"Impossible," he breathed. Seiren stared between Kaim and Martel before the name clicked. Eleia Tophalis. The crippled princess of Hanna. Fautos's younger sister, the only other sibling who had survived the slaughter aside from Magus, Fautos's prisoner.

"Hynn is Eleia?" Seiren repeated, ogling at the skinny girl sitting across the table from her. Hynn — or, rather, Eleia — flushed, reading her lips. "You lied to us?"

"I could say the same about you," Eleia retorted, her ears turning pink. She dropped her hands and fiddled with her two curly dark brown plaits.

"Forgive me, but I find that hard to believe."

Eleia turned her head, but missed Martel's words. Kaim repeated them for her. Her eyes widened and she squared her shoulders. Standing up, she reached out a hand. Castiel, her brown-scaled snake daemon, twisted itself out of her sleeve and pointed its snout at Martel. Seiren wondered if Castiel would strike Martel. Surely paralysing the old man wouldn't make him any more compliant with their plan.

Martel brought out a pinch of summoning dust. Aphriel, his daemon with the spikes on its back, materialised, and reached out to Castiel. They touched snouts, as if communicating. Before Aphriel even retreated into Martel's sleeve, the old man had gone pale and his jaw trembled.

"Bless the distant lands," he said hoarsely. "Princess Eleia... Your Blessedness."

He made to get up, but his joints had locked up. He stumbled. Eleia made to aid him, but her own weak leg almost made her tumble alongside. Kaim swept forward and held up the old man with each hand under his armpit. Eleia grabbed the back of Kaim's long robe and righted herself.

"No, don't bow," Eleia said, once Martel's head lifted back up and he could see her hand movements. "I'm not a princess now."

"But you plan to usurp your own brother? Fautos?" Martel shook his head. "I beg your pardon, Your Blessedness, but there is no chance. He's too powerful and too well-connected. The Daemonium, the rune magic, the soldiers at his disposal... this will be a suicide mission. You should value your life. Flee whilst you can."

"I cannot." Eleia pressed her lips together. "Magus is my dear brother. I won't lose another sibling to Fautos's tyranny."

"If you summon the royal daemon, then perhaps there is a chance, but to summon the daemon requires inner power beyond most people's abilities, Your Blessedness. You have no clear claim to the throne, either, as you've never partaken in any of King Mephis's trials. Your daemon — forgive me — is weak."

"I'm willing to try. Please, Martel. Tell me where the royal daemon is sealed."

Martel licked his lips.

"Fautos has already set off at dawn. You won't catch up with him."

"Please."

"Apollinon is sealed about ten miles east of Traquair, at the site of His Holiness King Feures."

"The royal palace of the first Hannan king," murmured Kaim. "Traquair is a week's travel away on horseback."

"Indeed."

They fell silent. Seiren eyed the icy silver lilies in the vase in the centre of the table.

"Has Kommora been in touch?" she said.

"Yes, but our contacts are often quite one-sided. I give her updates on the Daemonium and the royal family. She occasionally sends back messages — it's easier for me to export the lilies than for her to send anything back — about anything I should know about."

"And...?"

"Nothing pertaining to Hanna, although Acrise is once again getting uneasy now the pilgrimages are reaching south. You Karmans are so easily displeased by our journeys."

"Martel..." Madeleine hesitated. "May I ask — can a daemon grant magic? Can the royal daemon?"

"What?" Martel appeared startled at the question. "No. They are the result of summoning magic, like your rune magic is the result of celestial magic. Similar but very separate branches. The daemon responds to magic, not the other way round."

"What are you trying to ask?" Seiren whispered.

"Mother wouldn't be seeking out the royal daemon. Fautos might, but Mother wouldn't, not until her own magic is back. That's what she wants, right? Her magic back? Otherwise there's no point in coming to Hanna. And she can't support Fautos without her magic."

And Fautos would do anything to get his hand on rune magic; he'd proven that before. Even if it meant war with Karma. Especially now, with the new generation of king's mages decidedly against betraying their own country and aiding Hanna. The first step for Kristen would have been to find a way to get her magic back, at any cost. Madeleine was right. They were going about this the wrong way. Fautos might seek the royal daemon, but there was a step in the middle, to revive Kristen's magic — and then nobody would be able to stop Fautos's rule, Karman or Hannan.

"Martel," Seiren said, just as the conversation between the old man and Kaim paused. "Do you know about the burial place of Hanna? The original summoner?"

He surveyed Seiren with gravity. "Why do you want to know about Hanna?"

"She's the ultimate summoner, isn't she? Wouldn't Fautos want her under his control too?"

"Hanna was an uncontrollable being, and she is dead. There is nothing to gain if Fautos finds Hanna's burial ground."

"If there's nothing to gain, then why is the burial site such a closely-guarded secret? The twins' bodies were found twenty years ago, right? We Karmans didn't even know Karma's body was found, let alone where it is. Kaim's said everyone in Hanna knows Hanna's body was found, but nobody knows where her body is, either."

"King Mephis decreed her new burial site a sacred one and should not be tarnished by anyone—"

"A body is just a body, unless there's more to it." Seiren was reminded vividly of King Pollin's dead green eyes. Although he was dead, he'd walked and breathed like a living being, his body a vessel of information and his appearance a facade that fooled the entire country for over six years.

"The burial site was required to be magic-dense, for reasons not disclosed to people lower down like me," Martel finally said, at length. "There are guards stationed there, day and night. Nobody is allowed to approach. However..."

"However?"

"My sources tell me Prince Magus has been taken from his cells beneath the palace at Falnash and is being transported east as we speak."

"East...?"

"Last sighted about twenty miles away from Bairnkine." Martel's expression became grave.

Seiren waited for him to elaborate, unsure of the significance of the heavy pause.

"Bairnkine is one of the remaining, still-operational cities in a sea of sand and abandoned stone structures in our eastern area. About ten miles away is the tomb of His Holiness King Feures Tophalis. It's also the resting place of Hanna after the discovery of her body twenty years ago, sealed so only those with royal blood could enter."

This was too much of a coincidence.

"Who knows about her final resting site?" Seiren asked, but knew the answer.

"Nobody except for the royal family."

"We should head east, then!" said Eleia, eyes bright with excitement. "Magus is there — we can rescue him and he can summon the royal daemon!"

"There isn't time," said Kaim. "Fautos has already set off. He'll be in Traquair within the week. If he summons Apollinon, we're all doomed."

"Why not both?" Seiren said.

"Traquair is at least three days' travel by horseback to the northwest." Kaim's eyes narrowed, not turning away from Eleia.

"Without Magus, we can't summon the daemon!"

"You might be able to."

Eleia stared at him, stunned, her hands frozen in mid-speech.

"You might," Kaim said with deliberation.

"What if I couldn't? And what about Magus?"

Kaim's back was stiff as he turned to fully face Eleia. "We have to take our best chances. We can't have Fautos reaching Traquair before us."

Eleia's hands were already flying before he finished his sentence. "You said you would rescue my brother! You said he was your priority! You said the insurgents all need him on the throne! If we go to Traquair now, we won't have time to rescue him! You said—"

Her hands moved so fast they became a blur, and Seiren couldn't keep up with her outburst. It was evident from how crimson her cheeks and how bright her eyes had become that she was not in the slightest bit in agreement with Kaim's decision.

"Look, Eleia!" Kaim said at last, catching both of her hands and halting her tirade. She glared back at him. Her black hair almost crackled with anger. "The insurgents will support me, and we need you at Traquair. We can't get Magus right now but we will, afterwards, all right?"

He met her eyes with earnest, licking his lips.

"With Apollinon on our side, we stand a chance against Fautos. We have nothing, without the daemon."

Eleia bit her lip, conflicted. Kaim turned to Seiren and Madeleine.

"Are you coming with us?"

"We..." Seiren hesitated. "The Karman mage. She'll be headed to Hanna's burial ground."

"You're so sure?" Martel said in surprise.

"Yes. I'm positive." Seiren turned to Eleia to ensure she could read her lips. "We need to get to this Barn-kind place—"

"Bairnkine," Martel corrected.

"The Karman mage? The one that's been supplying runes to Fautos all this time? She'll be there. We need to catch her before she—" Seiren caught herself in time. "Before she gets into any more trouble."

"Fautos is a greater threat than any mage from Karma," Kaim said with finality, standing and clutching Eleia's elbow. "Thank you for your information, Scholar. We'll take our leave now."

"What?" Seiren leapt to her feet. "You're not coming with us?"

Kaim narrowed his eyes. Suddenly, Seiren got the same feeling as when she first met Domic Butterworth. Kaim did not take kindly to those who challenge his position and decisions.

"I appreciate your aid in our escape, Eishet — or whatever name you go by." His voice became cold, detached. "But as our goals now differ, we will part. Amicably."

"Eleia!" Seiren said. The girl dug her heels in. Kaim tugged at her elbow, his face colouring.

"I refuse!" Eleia's words were exaggerated in her anger. Her cheeks flushed pink, her eyes bright. "It's my brother or nothing. I won't—"

Without a word, one of the insurgents swooped in and picked her up with one hand. She kicked and punched, tears trickling out of her eyes, but they carried her as if she were just a bag of flour, disappearing through the door.

"I don't like this," Madeleine said under her breath. "I thought Kaim wanted to support Magus through Eleia, so forcing her away like this makes no sense."

"He doesn't respect her wishes." Seiren's hands curled into fists. "I'm going to stop him."

"He's the leader of a big group of rebels. He's not going to listen to two foreigners. And besides, he doesn't owe us an explanation about his actions." Madeleine's hand shot out and clamped around Seiren's wrist. "Whatever Kaim has in mind, he doesn't want to stop us getting to Mother — that's the most important part."

"We have no support, Madeleine. You're the one who said we needed them to help us get to Kristen. Now it's just us two again."

"Kaim has no interest in supporting Prince Magus," said Martel. Seiren froze. She'd forgotten the old man was still there.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"What was there to say?" Martel spread his hands before him. "Princess Eleia is safest remaining with Kaim Havris and the insurgents. I only care for Fautos to cease being the Hannan king. Beggars can't be choosers. Whether his successor is Princess Eleia or Prince Magus — or someone else entirely — it doesn't matter. The country will fall thanks to Fautos. Anything we can do to stop that happening can only be a gain. If you are heading east to the burial grounds of Hanna, rescue Prince Magus if you can, but I wish you luck; I highly doubt he will travel without the company of at least two Daemonium members."

"May I ask — what will happen if Eleia fails to subdue this royal daemon?"

Martel's gaze was unwavering. "Then Apollinon will devour her."

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