I refuse to lend credence to that motivation by acknowledging it aloud. I’m already a terrible enough person as it is. No need to share those kinds of thoughts.

“I don’t see how getting Asha away from Az is possible. Not with that host of Others under his control,” Nox says.

I tug at my braid. “I was able to take down several of them.”

Nox shakes his head. “Several. Not a host. Even with two of us, there’s too many of them to take down an army of them on our own.”

On our own.

Neither of us brings up the idea of asking my friends for help.

Mostly because I don’t have any of those anymore.

Neither does Nox, I realize.

“Now, if we could find a way to transfer control of the beasts from Az to us, that could present an opportunity to rescue her. Tell me again what Az’s ritual was like.”

I frown, but relay Az spreading his blood in ghostly runes on the thin air. Then I add, “I still don’t know how that helps us, unless we find some way to corral a host of Others through the same hole.”

Nox nods in agreement. “Did Az mention any other theories about how he might control them? Things he tried, but didn’t work out?”

I shake my head. “No, I think he had his method of controlling them planned for a while. It was getting the Rip opened where he devoted most of his energy. He even tried to get ahold of a Gifted woman in Avelea. Thought she’d be easier to obtain than Asha. Until he found me, that is. Ironically enough, Abra got ahold of her. Apparently, the girl’s Gift has to do with her music. We’re still not sure what she was planning to do with her. Only that they were on their way to Mystral.”

“Did Abra ever find out that you’d put Farin and me to sleep?” Nox asks.

“Not that I know of.”

“Maybe it had something to do with him, then. He does seem to be the only thing in the world she cares about, and if she was headed back to Mystral instead of the Rip…”

“Yeah, maybe she was hoping Piper would enchant Farin back to loving her again.” I snort.

Nox shifts uncomfortably. “I know you’re joking, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility.”

Nox and I lock eyes for an uncomfortable moment, but then he clears his throat. “I doubt something like that would have been sustainable. I imagine the effects of the girl’s music wears off over time, just as the emotions evoked by any tune would.”

“Right, of course,” I say, feeling stupid for hoping.

“However,” Nox says, and I can practically feel the wheels in his head turning. “It does make me wonder what kind of effect her music could have on a being of lesser sentience.”

“Like an Other, you mean?”

Nox sucks in a breath. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

CHAPTER 53

KIRAN

By the time the scent of the mysterious incense my father burned fades, and I come to my senses, something is very, very wrong.

For one, I can’t move my limbs. It’s a struggle, but I peel my eyes open. The room is swirling with smoke, except it’s the type I can’t control. It covers every filthy corner of my father’s cottage.

Knobs from the floorboards jut into my back, causing knots in my muscles.

How long have I lain here?

Fin.

Fin?

I have to will my muscles to obey me, but I turn my head, where I find my brother lying beside me. He’s alert, his eyes boiling with rage, but he also seems to be struggling to move.

We exchange a look, and then he peels his head away from me.

“I really am sorry, kids.” My father’s figure appears, his silhouette a shadow forming in the haze of the smoke. “I wanted to care for you. Always thought I’d be overjoyed if you showed up at my door. But the two of you…you’re just a reminder. A reminder that your mother never loved me. That she used me to get her pregnant, used me to produce heirs for her husband. I thought…I thought seeing you would change that. That I’d glimpse myself in you. But all I see is what she took from me.” He swallows, then turns toward the fog, tilting his head. Another pair of figures appear from the haze. “I really am sorry. I did try,” he says again, as if he thinks that means anything at all.

I reach for my fire, but hard as I try to dig for it, my hands come up empty.

Where is it? A byproduct of the magical incense, perhaps, one that hampers magic while it’s being absorbed into the bloodstream?

I fight against the restraints digging into my torso, arms, and legs, but it’s no use. Not when I’m struggling to even get my limbs to obey me.

The males above us wear masks that match my father’s, ones that I assume filter out the effects of the incense.

“Should we dispose of the spare?” one of them asks, nodding toward Fin.

Panic rises in my chest, but the other shakes his head. “No, we have commands to bring both of them back alive. But we’re allowed to torture this one if that one misbehaves,” he says, glaring at me.

Commands? Commands from who?

They grab Fin first, hauling him by the ankles and shoulders until they’re out of sight. The lopsided door thumps against its frame, slapping against the side of the house as the howling wind flings it around.

My father turns to look over his shoulder, then kneels down, his voice hardly a whisper. “Don’t worry, son. Look to your gut for answers. It won’t lead you astray.”

Right. Because his gut has so obviously led him in the right direction.

He opens his mouth, as if to say something else, but before he can finish, the men return.

They haul me away and stuff me into a cart next to my brother.

Footsteps fade as they approach the house.

There’s the rumble of my father’s voice, sounding confused that they’ve returned.

Then there’s a scream, and the squirting of blood.

And the sound of something wet and pliable dropping against the floor.

The sound of my father’s heart, still beating as it was wrenched from his body, taps against my ears the entire journey.