And boy did it suck.

“I do not want more strange Crafters in our camp,” Amja said. “Or more buskers from the other cities. You’ve already brought in an army of misfits to roam around our village. Now you want to fill it with more people we don’t know or trust? You want to start another War of Ages?”

“The war has already started!” Saxony said, failing to contain her frustration. “If I could contact the other Crafters myself, then I would. But only a Liege has that power, Amja, and since you’re standing in Zekia’s place, it’s your responsibility to help protect us.”

“I’m protecting us by staying far from this war and waiting for Zekia to return home.”

Saxony rubbed her temples to keep the growing headache at bay.

Amja was scared, she knew that. She was one of the few Crafters who had survived the War of Ages and now, fifty years onward, she bore those scars inside and out. But hiding wasn’t going to help them, and neither was the delusion that Zekia would run back into their arms the same as she was the day she’d left.

Saxony had seen her sister standing beside Ashwood. She had felt her power when Zekia tried to kill her and then stole Wesley away. She knew that if she wanted her little sister back, then they were going to have to drag her kicking and screaming.

“Father,” Saxony said, turning to Bastian. “Please, make her see reason.”

He sighed and pushed aside a strand of hair that had strayed from his braid into his face. He swallowed, and those piercing brown eyes that Saxony had looked up into for so many years dimmed. He was a large man, but at this moment she couldn’t help but think he looked so very small.

“We’ve lost too much already,” Bastian said. “I won’t lose the only child I have left.”

“Zekia is not lost,” Saxony said, with enough force that her father almost moved back in surprise.

She could get her sister back.

Even if Zekia had done terrible things and even if she had created that awful elixir. Zekia might not be able to lead their Kin anymore, but she was still Saxony’s sister.

She could still be saved.

“You don’t want to lose another child,” Saxony said. “But I don’t want to lose another sibling. I was too young to protect Malik when he died, but I can rescue Zekia if we do this.”

Her father stayed silent, but Saxony didn’t miss the way his frown twitched when she mentioned her brother’s name. They rarely ever spoke of Malik, like not saying his name out loud made the pain go away, but looking at her father now, Saxony could see the agony in his eyes. The grief at losing a wife and a son all at once.