“Agreed,” Asees said. She stood and pulled Arjun to his feet. “We must pick the best of our warriors for this. When did you want to leave?”

“First thing tomorrow morning. The train from Rishiyat station will take us straight to the Shores of the Dead in Tisvgen. From there, we can head to the mountains on foot.”

“Wait a moment,” Arjun said. “What are the Shores of the Dead?”

“It is a burial ground covering the entire seafront of Tisvgen,” Karam explained. “And it will be the quickest way in.”

“There better not be spirits roaming the place,” Arjun said. He sheathed his sword. “Do you think half a dozen of us should do it?”

Karam nodded. “A small group is better to go unnoticed.”

The last thing they needed was to march half their army into Tisvgen and alert the Kingpin to where they were and what they were doing.

“And the mountains?” Arjun asked. “How perilous are they?”

“The Uskhanyans call the mountain pass the Looming Valley,” Karam said. “So take from that what you will.”

Arjun sighed, as though he regretted agreeing to the mission already.

“We’ll need to amass the most powerful of us,” Asees said. “If it’s a small group, then we will need the best of us in case we are attacked. Come, let’s speak to the Kin.”

When Karam next let out a breath, it felt like she was pushing all of the frustrations she had been feeling over the last few weeks out of her. It would be good to finally do something of her own. Tavia had brought the buskers to them, Saxony had brought the Crafters, and now Karam could bring them something too.

Wesley was an asset that, once lost, had been a serious blow to their armies. The buskers were restless without him and Tavia wasn’t herself. Even Karam found herself missing Wesley’s insights. He had been the one to help shape her into a warrior, after all.

She owed him a lot, and a rescue from Ashwood’s clutches seemed like the perfect repayment.

“WAKE UP,” a voice said. “You should probably get going if you want to catch the morning train to Tisvgen.”

Karam opened her eyes to see Saxony hovering above her, the sun casting a halo through her wonderfully wild hair. Curls flowed in every direction, large ringlets to tight coils.

By the spirits, she was so beautiful.

“Good morning,” Karam said.

“Bad morning,” Saxony corrected. “You’re leaving me. For a man.”

Karam snorted and stretched out in a yawn among the bedsheets.

“Enjoy this bed while you can,” Saxony said, tapping the pillow. “You’ll be sleeping on the ground for most of your trip, I bet.”

Karam reached up and cupped her face. “The best thing I can do for this war is to bring Wesley back,” she said. “We have been over this.”