Flames.

Liquid fire licked at her back. She lashed against the restraints, kicking out with her feet. Outside of the tower, the moon was a yellow pustule. The fire grew hotter against her spine, tearing at with her vicious teeth, and she shuddered. Hadn't she escaped this tower?

A sob caught in her throat.

A dream. The whole thing — Ryne, the boat to the Gongo Islands, all of it — had been a dream. And now she was back here, now she was...

Black boots walked toward her. Eris crouched down, his smile made of nightmares and wicked promises. He ran a blade down her face slowly. Lovingly. She twisted away and Eris caught her chin, his voice soft as a paintbrush stroke. "You really do have a lovely scream."

The pain began again. A knife twisted into her back, sending shockwaves up her spine, and a scream tore from her lungs—

"Cidarius!"

Hands shaking her.

"Cidarius! Wake up."

Anna shot upright.

The room was still. She could hear her own ragged breathing in the darkness; somewhere outside, waves pounded against the shore. A warm breeze filtered through the rounded window. She squinted, trying to make out objects in the darkness: green vines wrapped around white pillars; blue-and-white tiled walls; a marble dragon, holding up a basin.

Relief filled her.

A figure sat on the bed. He was dressed in loose white trousers, his dark hair rumpled with sleep. The moonlight caught one side of his face, illuminating the stubble at his jaw. The bright green of his eye.

Anna's mouth felt dry. "I dreamt...

"I know." Ryne's mouth tightened. "You said his name."

She touched the bedsheets. "I'm really here?"

"You're really here," Ryne said.

He crossed to the basin, soaking a cloth in the water. He held it out to her. Anna pressed the cotton to her face, letting the cool cotton soothe her warm skin. She dabbed her neck next, wincing slightly as the cloth brushed her back.

Ryne's face darkened. "Does it still hurt?"

"No," she said truthfully.

Her scars had healed over the last week. But it was the words that Eris had carved into her flesh that bothered her: Vox es nuqum. I am nothing. Anna stared at her hands; she hated Eris for what he'd done, but she hated him even more for what he'd turned her into. Every branch snapping became footsteps. Every dark shadow became a monster.

And she was afraid.

For the first time in her life, Anna was truly afraid.

Ryne sat on the bed, his shoulders tense. "Cidarius, I—"

The door burst open.

"Annie." Kane stepped into the room, flushed and breathless. "Are you—?"

Her friend broke off, taking in the scene: the damp cloth pressed to her cheek; Ryne, braced over her; and her... Well, Anna didn't know what she looked like, but she suspected it wasn't good. Ryne rose.

"Hillsbrook," he said.

Kane gave a stiff nod. "Delafort." His eyes slid to Anna. "I heard screaming."

She lowered the cloth. "It was nothing. Just a nightmare."

"Oh." Kane's grip on his sword relaxed. "Do you want a hot tea? Or a book?"

Anna stared at the cloth. What she wanted was cold air. Or maybe a ten-mile run on the midnight sand. Or maybe a severe head injury, so she could no longer remember what Eris Delafort's face looked like.

"I'm fine," she said.

Kane shifted his weight. "A bath?"

"I'm fine, Kane." Anna met his gaze. "Honestly."

Kane nodded, rubbing at his chin; there was a fine layer of stubble there. It was still strange to see him like this, she thought; they'd parted when Kane was a scrawny fourteen-year-old. Now, his broad shoulders filled the doorway.

"Right," Kane said. "We'll let you get some rest then."

His voice was pointed. Ryne didn't move.

"Actually," Ryne said, "I need to discuss something with Cidarius." He returned the cloth to the basin. "Privately."

Kane leaned against the door. "We're all allies here, aren't we?"

"This doesn't pertain to Lucia," Ryne said.

They surveyed each other. They were so different, Anna thought: light and dark; flame and ice; chaos and calm. The boys were two sides of the same coin; she wasn't sure whether that would lead to balance or butchery.

Kane shrugged. "I'll wait outside for you."

"It'll be a while," Ryne said.

His smile was the glint of a knife. "I'm very patient."

Anna rolled her eyes. "It's okay, Kane. Go back to sleep." He hesitated, and she crossed her arms. "Don't make me read you Goodnight, Mr. Sheep."

Kane's mouth twitched. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

Kane's gaze swept over the room. Then he shrugged, turning for the door. "Goodnight, Annie." His voice lost some of its warmth. "Delafort."

The door closed.

Ryne raised an eyebrow. "Goodnight, Mr. Sheep?"

She pulled her knees into her chest. "It's a children's book about a sheep learning to knit. Kane used to hide under the bed whenever Celeste read it to us. He thought the sheep's eyes were scary."

"Sounds terrifying," Ryne said solemnly.

Anna rested her chin on her knees. "What did you need to ask me?"

"What?" Ryne blinked. "Oh, nothing. I was just sick of his voice."

Exasperation filled her. "You know, Kane's not that bad once you get to know him. He's funny. Charming. Loyal."

Ryne's eyes were green glass. "He's also in love with you."

Anna shook her head. "He's in love with Seraena."

She'd realized it on the first night they arrived in the Gongo Islands. Seraena had spent the first three hours quizzing them, and then she'd dragged every councilman out of her coronation ball and held a decision meeting. Seraena had fallen asleep on her desk as the sun rose; Kane had taken off her crown and draped a blanket over her. And Anna had just known.

Kane loved her.

It was obvious to anyone that looked at them.

Ryne crossed to the window. "Then Hillsbrook's in love with the idea of you. He might not know you anymore, but he tried to win that competition for you. He would have died for you." His shoulders were a hard line. "Don't tell me that isn't some form of love."

"And you?" Anna asked.

His palms were flat on the window ledge. "What?"

"Do you know me?" she asked.

Ryne turned. Several emotions flitted across his face, so quickly that she couldn't identify them. But she could see them now, Anna realized; he was no longer hiding it from her. Something had changed between them after he found her in that tower. He was rattling loose, like coins spilling from a tin can.

Ryne turned for the door. "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Anna asked.

She already knew. Ryne wouldn't be the type to offer her a bath, or hot tea, or a book; he would offer her exactly what she needed. Once, Anna would have found that disturbing; now, she found it...

Well.

She was used to it, at least.

"For a walk," Ryne said.

Anna pushed off the covers. "Good. Let's go."

***

By the time they returned, the Grand Palace was a wash of butter yellow and burnt orange; the onion dome skewered the rising sun. Dragons soared overheard, their bellows racing down the beach to the salt caves and then melting into the sea. Anna nudged over the door with her hip, following the route to the kitchen.

She paused in the doorway.

The kitchen was a mess. Flour littered the counters and floors, and a bag of brown sugar was leaking into the sink. Teagan stood in the middle of it, wearing an expensive-looking pink dress; a gift from Seraena, no doubt. Mack and Alfie Agnirian were in the process of gleefully dumping flour on the young girl's head.

Anna cleared her throat.

The Agnirian twins jumped, swinging around. Anna raised an eyebrow, setting her brown parcels on the counter.

"Do I want to know?" she asked.

Mack lowered the flour. "Probably not."

Teagan raced toward her. "What did you get?"

"Eggs," Anna said.

"And toast," Ryne said, setting a second parcel down. "I'd go for the toast."

Mack eyed the bag suspiciously. "Why?"

Ryne smirked. "There's a good chance Cidarius will poison the eggs."

Anna — who had been positioning a frying pan over the fire — turned to glare. "I'm not going to poison them."

Alfie examined the eggs. "Does she often poison things?"

"That depends on your definition of often." Ryne took a seat at the wooden table. "I've seen her do it on two separate occasions." He held down several fingers. "Three, if you include her pancakes last week."

"I told you," Anna said. "Salt and sodium cyanide look very similar."

She cracked an egg into the pan. The yolk sizzled, spitting yellow droplets across the pan. Both Agnirian twins watched her with wary lavender eyes. And not, Anna suspected, because they were worried about being burnt; they did have flame-proof skin, after all.

"Maybe I'll stick with the toast," Alfie said.

Ryne inclined his head. "Good choice."

Alfie rummaged in the cupboard, pulling out a broom. Mack settled at the table. He took the seat farthest away from Ryne, which wasn't a great surprise; Kane and Mack were close. And Kane wasn't Ryne's biggest fan. He'd made that very clear, over the last week.

Not that Anna blamed him. After what Ryne's father did to Rourke...

She stared down at the eggs. They looked lumpy and had a greyish tinge, like scrambled brains. Acid rose in her throat. She pulled several plates out of the cupboard.

Teagan rummaged in the brown parcels. "Can I have a chocolate cookie?"

Anna pointed her wooden spoon. "What do we say?"

Teagan's voice was a singsong. "Ask forgiveness, not permission."

"Good girl," Anna said.

Teagan jammed a chocolate cookie in her mouth. A dragon roared outside — a long, triumphant sound — and Teagan shot into the garden, waving her arms above her head. Alfie leaned on his broom, frowning after her.

Alfie scratched his chin. "Has anyone taught her about door safety yet? She just let Mack and I into your quarters this morning. Not," he added quickly, seeing the look on Anna's face, "that I'm complaining. Just stating a fact."

Anna pushed the eggs around. "Oh, we have rules."

"What are they?" Alfie asked.

She lifted the wooden spoon. "Does anyone want eggs?"

Unsurprisingly, all three boys ignored her. Mack leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. A long tattoo snaked up his left bicep, disappearing under his white sleeve. It took Anna a moment to identify it: a dragon tail.

"Let me guess," Mack said. "Only open the door to friends."

"Not quite," Anna said.

Mack snapped his fingers. "It's a secret knock, isn't it?"

Anna set down the spoon, raising her voice. "What are our rules, Teagan?"

Teagan's high voice drifted in from the garden. "Only open the door to people you can beat in combat."

"You're joking." Mack smirked at the doorway. "No offense, pipsqueak, but you're pint-sized. I could crush you."

"Oh, really?" Teagan's head popped through the door. "Even without this?"

The young blonde girl waggled a silver weapon. Anna felt a swell of pride; they'd spent six days practicing that. And Teagan must have been practicing on her own, too, because she'd only managed keys and coin purses during their last session.

Mack looked incredulous. "Did she just take my sword?"

Ryne took a bite of toast. "Teagan. Give Mack the sword back." He gave Mack a look that was almost apologetic. Almost, Anna thought; it was far too smug to be sincere. "You'll have to forgive her. She's going through a phase."

Anna patted her head. "Well done, kiddo."

Teagan beamed, skipping back into the garden. Alfie — who'd been in the process of sticking the broom back into the closet — gave her an exasperated look. "Should we be rewarding that type of behaviour?"

"I don't see why not." Anna paused. "I suppose she could have taken his ring, too, but there's always room for improvement."

She scooped the eggs on to a plate. Ryne polished off his toast, wiping his fingers on a cloth; his shoulders were relaxed, although she noticed that he was never fully angled away from Mack and Alfie. He didn't trust the Agnirian twins yet, she observed; then again, Ryne didn't fully trust anyone.

"We should go." Mack slid his sword into a scabbard. "Training starts soon."

Alfie snagged an apple from the fruit bowl. "Delafort? Are you joining us?"

Ryne nodded. He'd been joining the Agnirian army to train most days, to teach them how to defend against Dayweaver magic. Although if he kept it up for much longer... Anna bit her lip, studying the brightness of his eyes. The flush on his cheeks. The last time Ryne had been in a manic phase from using too much magic, he'd nearly shot someone in the head with an arrow.

What if he lost control this time?

Anna picked up the plate. Pain shot through her temple, and she cried out. There was a shattering sound; eggs littered the floor, pockmarked by bits of broken crockery. Black spots danced in front of her eyes.

Three boys stared at her.

"Cidarius?" Ryne took a step forward. "Are you—?"

"I'm fine." Her heart was beating fast. "I just tripped. That's all."

Ryne's eyes narrowed. "You tripped."

"Yeah."

He didn't believe her. She could tell that he didn't believe her. But Ryne glanced at the Agnirian twins, and he shrugged. "If you're sure." He yanked on a light jacket. "Let's go, Incombustibles. We're going to be late."