He thought for a moment before answering. “My mother loved Barl, but she knew her daughter well. Before she died, I promised her I’d see my sister kept out of trouble. And though I’ve done my best…” He grimaced. “My best was never enough. Perhaps this time, it will be.”

Tears welled in Venette’s eyes. Spilled. Impatient, she brushed them away. “And if I say no?”

“Then you say no,” he said, shrugging. “And I’ll incant home the long, slow way, in stages. Cross my fingers I don’t step into the middle of a Feenish war camp.”

“Now that is playing dirty!”

He shrugged again. “I’m desperate.”

A long silence, and then she sighed. “How d’you plan to kill him?”

Remmie reached inside his roughspun shirt, and pulled out the knife he’d carried since the day they left Elvado. “With this. And if that doesn’t work, if Barl’s binding hasn’t made him vulnerable, well… I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

Despite everything she’d said about Danfey, Venette flinched. “I see.”

“Venette…” He took her hands and held them. They were cold, and felt small. “Please. Help me.”

She tugged free. Folded her arms. “And how will we know if you succeed, and Morgan dies?”

“Barl will know,” he said, reluctant. “They’re connected. If he dies, she’ll know.”

“And if you die?”

“She’ll know that, too.”

Staring at him, Venette blinked away more tears. “Remmie Lindin, I could hate you for this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure there’s no other way?”

He kissed her cheek. “You know there isn’t.”

“I could go.”

Loving her, he shook his head. “No, you couldn’t. You’re the last of Elvado’s Council of Mages. You’re needed here, far more than me.”

“I beg to differ.” Her eyes narrowed. “And so would Maris.”

Maris Garrick? She really was thinking to push him into that girl’s arms? Oh, Venette. And then, remembering the Olken girl in the woodland, he felt his face heat.

Misreading him, Venette smiled. “Ah. I knew you liked her.”

There was no time for contradictions. Besides, he didn’t have the heart. Let Venette cling to her daydream. One way or another it would never come true.

“Venette, if I’m going to do this, I have to do it now,” he said. “So are you going to help me or not?”

She sighed, shuddering. “Yes. I’m going to help you. But why must it be now?”

“Because if Barl sees me, she’ll know something’s wrong. She’ll try to stop me… and I don’t want to hurt her.”

“You don’t want to—” Bemused, Venette stared. “And you don’t think this will hurt?”

“This is different,” he muttered. “Please, Venette. Let’s go.”