“I don’t want it, either. Not without you.” Nura tightened her embrace. “But don’t you remember how you once wanted to be a madcap, Oli?”

“Gods, don’t remind me.”

“You thought it would be a grand adventure to see the fortress in the clouds. So did I, after I met you.”

Olivette’s gaze drifted to the summit. “And now I realize how foolish I was to want that. We could all die tomorrow, up there in that dank fortress. It took me this long to realize how much I love Endellion. And those music classes we thought about taking? I don’t want to die before learning how to play the flute, Nura.”

“We aren’t going to die, Oli,” Nura whispered with a smile. “After this is over, you’re going to learn how to play the flute, and I’ll learn how to play the violin.”

I decided to give them a few moments alone and walked to the fire, the stars gathering overhead as the dusk deepened. Soon, Olivette and Nura returned, and I remained on the Wolfes’ side of camp with them, even though I made sure I ate the food the Vespers’ servants had prepared.

No one talked much that night. Not even the duke, who had strangely seemed the most affable out of our traveling party.

We continued to sneak glances at the mountains, at the fortress. It was dark; there was no visage of life in the stone, and yet all of us knew my uncle resided there, walking those corridors, waiting for us to return.

The lost one.

I wondered if he would challenge and kill us on sight.

“Lady Raven,” the duke finally drawled. “Since you are the one who has so generously collected us all and dragged us across the province to the mountain . . . what is the plan for tomorrow? How are we to prevail?”

Lady Raven took her time in responding, holding her goblet up for a servant to refill with wine. “We’ll approach the mountain doors tomorrow morning. They’ll open, because all of us are present. And then we’ll ascend and speak to Emrys.”

“What if he doesn’t want to speak?” Mr. Wolfe asked. “He nearly killed your son, Raven. Twice.”

“I know what he did, Aaron,” she snapped. “He attacked Phelan to prompt me to act. That is all.”

“Good thing we have plenty of wardens,” Mazarine said wryly from where she sat in a shadow, crunching on chicken bones. “The nightmares will no doubt run rampant.”

“We are prepared,” the countess insisted. “All of us are here and ready. There is nothing to worry about.”

“But someone is missing from our party,” Mr. Wolfe said. His statement made me glance around the fire ring. Everyone was accounted for.

“Who do you speak of?” Nura asked.

The smith glanced at my father. “Where’s your daughter, Ambrose?”