“Oh, I know you. I know the exact number of curly, brown hairs upon your head. I know you can name each bird that soars above us. I know you created this pathetic band in an attempt to run from what you can’t escape! And above all, I know your feelings, which you hush deep down—passionate, terrifying, treacherous. Don’t think for a second that you entered this territory with secrets, young Prince. We’ve known of you for a long time. We know how your line began, and what’s more, we know how it might end.” She draws in a mighty breath. “How we all might end.”

Idalia pushes back from the table, and her chair crashes. She runs towards the cobble path that leads back to the clay homes.

I slam my mug to the table and rise, glaring at Nuri.

“You don’t scare me with your heresy, nor does your possessed village,” I growl.

Nuri laughs, throwing a hand onto her belly. “Tell me what you saw then, dear Prince? What did the Minea reveal to you that you refuse to accept? Have you told your friends their fates? Which one will die serving you?”

I scowl, then turn on my heel to follow Idalia.

Lin jerks up next to me and grabs my arm. “What do you want us to do, Braze?”

I pull from his clutch. “I’m going to find her. Stay close to the others.”

Lorna shoots up; her face is devoid of emotion. “What are you talking about, Braizen?” Her voice is heavy and calm. “You can’t catch her and bring her back. Let me or Torrent go after her. You stay here and figure out what in the hells is going on.”

Rage flares and I want nothing more than to command Lorna to sit down and shut her mouth while I find Idalia. But I know she’s right. I don’t know what’s overtaken me. I tilt my chin and send Lorna and Torrent after her. Lin stands at my side, and we guard each other against the sorcerers that line the table.

“Your anger for her sake is admirable, but it’s misguided,” Nuri says calmly, scooping another bite from her plate.

“What’s your game here?” Lin glowers, palms pressed firmly on the table.

Rianne chuckles, and those next to her refill their cups.

“There’s no game. There’s only the truth,” Nuri says.

“Then what is it?” I grind out. “What’s the truth?”

Nuri gestures to us to sit and holds her hands over the food as if to summon peace.

“The truth is a stallion, set loose on the grassy knolls.”

“Enough riddles,” Lin spits. “Speak plainly.”