I swallow thickly, suddenly remembering “The Tale of the Woodcutter” and Theyen’s theory. Maybe Ronin doesn’t need a familiar because he devoured his Spinner. A sensation like hundreds of insect legs skitters down my spine. I draw my swords.

“You’re supposed to be up north.” Thankfully, my voice doesn’t waver.

He takes a leisurely step forward. The spider’s shadow follows, furred legs moving in time with his. I back away to maintain the space between us, but there’s no way out of this greenhouse except through the door he’s blocking.

“You’re not the only one with friends who can open shadow gates. Although such friends should exercise better caution when using such abilities.”

My lips tighten at the blatant threat. “Don’t you have an ambush to prepare for?”

“Among other plans. I’d meant to introduce you at dinner. When I sent for you, my servants reported you missing and your friend escaping with the prince of Evewyn. I thought it prudent to return here to check on things.” His gaze lifts to the cocoon behind me. “Just in case.”

Anger surges through me. “You’re going to let her kill all those people. Your own guests. Inside the manor, they’ll be powerless.”

“What would you have me do?” he asks, voice soft. “I am weary, Sirscha. Why shouldn’t it all end?”

“Because you’re supposed to keep the peace.”

His eyes unfocus as his gaze turns inward, pensive. “And I will. Once all the kingdoms have been dismantled.”

“So Queen Meilyr is as much your pawn as the rest of us?”

“I’m doing what I must.”

“And that justifies it? Genocide isn’t peace!” My shouted words reverberate through the large space.

“I didn’t take you for an idealist.”

I sneer. “I’m not. I’m just not a monster.”

At last, a reaction. One corner of his mouth quirks upward. “Aren’t you, though? Soulrender.”

I tense. Your powers are a question that must be addressed. Much relies on the answer.

“You suspected from the beginning,” I say. “That’s the real reason why you wanted Theyen to invoke my craft.” Every moment since I arrived at Spinner’s End suddenly sharpens into focus. “Allowing me to go to Vos Gillis—you wanted me to slip up. And Kamryne. You sent him, didn’t you? He killed himself because he knew you’d do the same when you learned he failed.” I point both my swords at him, my voice vibrating with fury. “He’s trapped now in those horrible trees.”

He doesn’t react to my words. “When you free the souls from the Dead Wood, do you even realize what you’re doing? Soulrenders don’t shepherd souls. You weren’t sending those spirits into the afterlife. You were destroying them.”

His quiet words hit me like a punch to my gut. I have to blink away the daze. Could it be true?