Then Casim’s face flashed in the eighth cloud and Wesley’s stomach lurched as he realized that meant Ashwood’s people were in Rishiya. That they were so, so close.

They cut through the underbosses one by one, knives at their throats and swords through their hearts. The blood splattered outward and Wesley blinked and stumbled, as though it might spill from the projection and rain down on them all.

Tavia caught his arm to steady him.

“Sacrifices are necessary for change,” Ashwood said. “I know that you think they were going to help you by sending you more buskers, but these are the vermin responsible for your shackles. These are the criminals who use your magic for profit. They are your enemies.”

The clouds disappeared and the vision in Wesley’s mind refocused on Ashwood’s ghostly face once again.

Tavia shuffled closer to him, her hand dangling by his, eyes searching the forest as if something in the wind was calling to her.

Wesley could hear it too.

He could hear the trees, no longer singing.

But screaming.

Whenever Wesley’s hand twitched against Tavia’s, the leaves of the forest hissed in warning. The branches smacked together.

They were not alone.

They were not safe.

Run, the trees said. You have to run.

“You must make a choice now,” Ashwood said. “Come to me in good faith, or die as traitors.”

Wesley kept ahold of Tavia’s hand.

And then, as sudden as a storm that had brewed in silence, an army appeared. Below the tree house, where Wesley watched the Crafters cry in pain and the rest of their people surrounding them unable to help, a new enemy blinked into existence.

First bones, then veins and skin and hair.

Teeth that glistened in the sun like monsters finally free to walk the day.

The invisibility charm they had harnessed shattered and they licked their hungry lips. Wesley could see the mark of the Loj on some of them, their eyes like broken stars. But the others, the ones who looked the most hungry and hateful, gave off a familiar wave of magic and blind devotion.

Crafters.

Soldiers.

Dante Ashwood’s willing followers.

“This is a new realm,” Ashwood said, his voice barely a murmur as their enemies descended. “And we shall build it together.”

19

TAVIA

Tavia ducked as a ball of fire flew straight at her head.

“How did they find us?” she yelled as Wesley grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said over the screams. “They’re here now.”

He threw open the door and barreled through, Tavia and Saxony following behind.

She knew he was lying, though, because it definitely mattered and they were definitely all thinking the same thing: Zekia.

Saxony’s sister had betrayed them, again.

She had finally told the Kingpin where her family was.