Intoxication would have suited her better.

Faine woke to the foreign room she'd left, only to realize where she was. Swaddled in towels like an infant, her body had been moved to the headboard and propped gently with a trash can on the floor beside her. She vaguely remembered the vomiting, the screaming, and the seizures.

A faint part of her recalled Leighton muttering something about sleeping in the armchair as she drifted in and out of consciousness.

But there he was not.

Her throat burned with dry bile, searing in sync with her mind when she dared clear her throat.

Despite the hellish taste, Faine would've done a great deal for a tonic to wash away the taste of puke. More even for breakfast.

Recollections she didn't have before surfaced in her mind.

She found herself thinking about her childhood, lingering first on her family cat and then drifting to the way her parents had died in an attack on the capital, Eolin. Naisene had taken her in after that when she was only sixteen.

Twenty-seven.

She was only twenty-seven now.

And Naisene had destroyed the Crimion Compound in an effort to extinguish Trace. Sacrificing them all.

Her stomach flipped and she lifted her chin to the ceiling, trying to pinch back the nausea.

She'd once lived in this room, in this house. Holding up with Saesin when she'd learned Naisene was going to plant spies in the Compound, the first sign they didn't truly grasp how bad the prison had become.

Doubts were an understatement.

Faine knew Naisene was up to something, knew there was something terribly wrong brewing in headquarters when she found herself in that conference.

She swallowed another uncomfortable wave of bile and shook her head.

Fractured.

Each memory bled in and out of one another, with so many holes burned away.

Without Naisene looking for Trace, justice would never be served, but perhaps her suspicions would be confirmed. They were grooming her for something, she'd simply lacked the pieces to the puzzle.

Faine lifted the towel to her nose and took a deep breath, concentrating on the sensation of cotton against her nose. Why else would a massive military force blow up two sides of a coin, unless they were the same.

Unless Naisene worked for Trace.

Any survivors would've been able to prove it.

With Trace in the wind and Naisene missing, there would be no one and nothing to protect the island from what came next.

Mithlis was the ultimate goal.

They wanted to control all of Mithlis.

But why?

Power, she supposed.

Everything always came back to power.

Covering up Trace's failure was only the beginning.

Forcing herself to blink and steady the room, Faine slid her legs off the bed and frowned down at her exposed skin. She'd had plenty of scars, most of them were superficial cuts from blades and poor training exercises, but she'd had them. Now she was covered in the permanent reminder of what had been taken from her.

The constant aching had diminished over the past few days, but she still felt the phantom pains of fire licking at her skin.

Slowly, Faine stood up. She found her clothes neatly folded on the armchair Leighton had mentioned, instead of strewn about as she'd left them. He'd likely folded them for her before leaving.

A flash of his shadowed silhouette crossed her mind and she froze. Leighton had been locked in his Wraithly form for days and with the power it took just to stay alive he might be-

Faine practically threw herself into her clothes before she went bounding down the stairs. She dodged several steps, using the railing to carry her with newfound adrenaline. He had to be okay, he had to be alive.

When she discovered the main house was empty, she went back down to the basement.

A gasp escaped her as Faine took in the sight before her.

Wearing a surgical mask and dressed in sleek blue medical gear, Saesin glanced back at Faine through thick glasses meant for precision work. Floating there, in the center of the room, was Leighton.

His body lay completely horizontal, hovering above the ground as Saesin worked. The wreathes of shadows had been displaced around his left leg and right arm, revealing the suntanned skin she was so familiar with.

Lengthy tweezers dangled from Saesin's fingers as she sighed, peering at the bucket on the floor beneath her.

"Good morning, Sunshine," she mumbled through the mask. "Breakfast is on the counter, if you're hungry."

Faine's eyes focused in on the bowl of peeled boiled eggs and a hefty pitcher of orange juice. Her mouth salivated at the thought of it, but instead she approached the magical operation in front of her.

"Is he okay?" she asked.

Saesin raised a brow at her before shrugging. "I suppose. He took more shrapnel than I could've hoped, this is going to take me all day at this rate."

Faine frowned. "So you were right then?"

"He's chock full of Silver," she answered, nodding. "Unsurprising since Iron has a higher melting point, though he isn't without."

"Do you think you'll be able to finish by tonight?" Faine questioned, wandering over to the eggs and popping one into her mouth.

Saesin's brows furrowed. "What's your hurry?"

"As if you didn't intend for me to hear you last night in the hopes I would regain my memory," Faine said calmly, crossing her arms. "Naisene is helping Trace and I need to know why and stop him before it's too late."

"He won't help you, Faine," Saesin said, shaking her head. "His loyalty to you is commendable, truly. But Karras swore an oath and he lives by it."

"I will let him decide that for himself," she answered. Faine wasn't sure how Leighton would react, but she knew she wasn't going to leave him without cause. "He told me we were in this together."

"I'm certain thats before you decided to go after Naisene."

Faine felt her teeth grinding together, the frustration building in her chest. "It's the only explanation that makes sense, Sae. They bombed the Compound because it was a bust, they didn't care who died because every person inside was evidence! You can't expect me to just sit here and wait for them to announce Trace's 'death' when you and I both know he's been playing us all from the beginning!"

Her fingers gripped the counter tightly, crushing the wood slightly with her outburst.

Saesin grunted at her dented countertop and turned back to the unconscious man before her. "I know nothing," she replied, plucking out another piece of silver. "You have no evidence, only theory, Faine."

Faine narrowed her eyes. "Are you calling me crazy?"

"No, of course not," she sighed. "I'm telling you that without proof, without cold hard facts, you're on your own."

"Isn't our captivity enough? How Naisene sent us in there when there was no one to save? They set us up! They offered us on a silver platter and then destroyed it to cover their tracks..." Her breathing was coming out in short gasps now. Her mind reeled with a thousand thoughts a minute. Faine felt the weight of each world on her shoulders, and their consequences too. She felt it all. "You'll see."

Saesin nodded, murmuring a spell into the air. Another portion of Leighton's body revealed itself.

"I'm sure I will," she said. "But I want this done the right way, with proof."

Faine couldn't contain herself anymore, the unruly sense of betrayal writhing around in her chest like a coiled snake. She took a deep breath, feeling the ice in her veins begin to spread.

"Send him up when he awakens," she snapped.

Faine pivoted and made her way back to the abandoned room, slamming the door behind her.

She'd kill Trace with or without Saesin.

Without them both, if need be.