I press him anyway. “You knew that she had been imprisoned in the Shadowhold. You knew they lied to Sel when they told him she died fighting an uchel.”

And you still know nothing about what really happened to his mother, I think, but I bite my tongue. Now is not the time to reveal that Natasia Kane has not only escaped the Shadowhold, but the danger of her blood as well. And now is especially not the time to share that I know these things because I broke her mesmer and saw the truth.

His face closes up tight. “Every Merlin who ascends to Seneschal is told which of our ranks has succumbed to demonia. Who, how, and why. So that we know what to watch for in our peers and we can keep the Order and its king safe.”

“So that you can punish Selwyn for someone else’s mistakes and make him out to be my villain, you mean.”

“We are Merlins, Crown Scion. Cambions bound by Oaths that we hope will maintain our humanity for as long as possible, but in the end… we are, all of us, marking the days until we become your villain.” He eyes me. “Do not think you know enough to judge our fates.”

I don’t want to hear the certainty in his voice, or the suggestion that Sel might hold that same certainty within himself. That he is on borrowed time. I swallow hard and look away. “I know that Sel is a good person, and a worthy Kingsmage.”

“Was a worthy Kingsmage,” Erebus says. “And yes, he was excellent. I should know; I hand-selected him for the title when he was a small boy and performed the Kingsmage Oath myself. But he is not serving that Oath at the moment, is he?” He nods in concession. “I will give him credit for coming to his Crown Scion’s aid. Intention to serve counts for something and should slow his descent.”

The care in his voice hurts, because it rings true. Erebus cared for Sel’s mother, and he seems to care for Sel, too, in an almost fatherly way. Maybe even more than Sel’s own absentee father. But that “care” is laced with horrifying disregard.

I take a deep breath and recite my way through the panic. Keep my friends safe, keep them from harm. No more deaths, no more damage. Get through the Rite, then get through the rest.

I wish Nick were here so I could tell him that now I understand how many emotions he had held in check every day. The loneliness, the doubt, and above all… the slow-building anger born from carrying the burdens of a power you don’t fully possess.

We arrive at the Lodge just as the stars emerge from the dark blanket of sky overhead.