We waited outside the gates in silence as the Osero mages rounded up the prisoners, directed by Lord Logar and Iannis. The scientists, guards, and staff were marched out of the garages in single file and made to strip, then subjected to a purification spell to ensure that they carried no diseases. Iannis had forbidden me to come in with him since he didn’t want me to catch anything. It was a silly fear, as shifters rarely sickened and couldn’t usually catch diseases that affected humans. But I was hardly going to argue with him in front of Lord Logar.

Annia, Rylan, and the other two mages returned as the first carriage, loaded up with prisoners, rolled through the gates. The curtains were drawn over the windows, so I couldn’t see any of them, but they probably weren’t smiling and waving. For many of them, death was the only thing they had to look forward to, once their trials were over. I couldn’t imagine that hard labor would be a sufficient punishment for conspiring to commit genocide.

Turning away from the carriage and its passengers’ gruesome fate, I focused on a happier thought—that the children we rescued would get to return home. They were walking toward us, with the two mages up front, and Rylan and Annia bringing up the rear. Their little faces were anxious, eyes wide with fear, and I saw a few trembling lips.

“It’s going to be all right.” Annia leaned down to snag the hand of a skittish child. He was a dark-skinned little boy with ice-blue shifter eyes, and he looked like he was about to turn tail and dart back into the woods. “We’re going to get you home to your parents. You’re safe now.”

A lump swelled in my throat, and I blinked back tears of my own as I went to meet them at the steam carriages. The two mage children were up front, between the adult mages, and I decided not to complain about the show of favoritism. I might have done the same if the situation was reversed.

“Where are you taking them?” I asked.

“They’ll all be housed in Parabas Palace until their parents are found,” one of the mages assured me. “Lord Logar has a soft spot for children. They’ll be well taken care of.”

“Good.” I moved aside, giving them access so that they could direct the children into the carriages. I’d smelled no lie, and was as convinced as I ever would be that these kids would be all right.

But as I moved away, I locked eyes with the blonde shifter child I’d noticed last night. Her face was pale with worry, her slim shoulders tense, but it was her eyes that made me pause. They were yellow-orange, the exact same color as Lakin’s.