Questions plague me as I scale the walls and climb over sloping roofs, making my way up to Theyen’s room, where I hope he’s returned. Where is Kendara? Did the Nuvali and Kazan leaders listen to Prince Meilek? What will happen once word spreads that Ronin is missing?

And Saengo. Without the Soulless holding the spirits to the Dead Wood, will she be able to heal? The flickering light of Saengo’s candle still burns, so I know she’s alive. But she grows weaker with every passing hour.

I wasn’t sure what would happen once Ronin’s power was gone, but I expected to feel something. And yet the trees beyond the white drape surrounding Spinner’s End don’t seem any different. Maybe magic as powerful as the Soulless’s needs time to fade.

Within minutes, my fingers grasp the ledge of Theyen’s sitting-room window. It’s much too narrow for me to fit through, but I peek inside. A lantern on the mantel illuminates the room with a soft yellow glow. Theyen sits with one hand cupped over his forehead and the other wrinkling the hem of his sleeve. He’s trying to read.

“Theyen,” I whisper.

He starts and then rushes over to the window. “How in the—are all Evewynians as suicidal as you are?”

I roll my eyes. “Were you able to warn your clansmen?”

“Yes. They were preparing to leave when I returned for you.”

“Good. I’m ready when you are. The quicker the better.”

He rubs his temple. “This friendship business is a lot more troublesome than I was led to believe.”

“Theyen—”

“Yes, yes. I’ll meet you out front. Get down before you fall and break your neck.”

I reach the courtyard mere seconds before Theyen bursts out the doors, a sword strapped to his waist. His feet pause on the stairs when he gets a full look at me.

“Why do you look like you were wrestling a Spinner?”

“I sort of was,” I mumble. “Ronin was back there.”

Smoke has begun to rise from the rear of the castle grounds, but against the night and with most of the soldiers and staff still abed, no one seems to have noticed yet.

For long seconds, Theyen stares at me, terrible realization growing behind his eyes. When he speaks, there’s an icy tremor in his voice I’ve never heard before. “Did you kill him?”

“I had no choice.”

A muscle ticks in his cheek as he clenches and unclenches his jaw. He descends the stairs, but his steps are slow, deliberate. Predatory.

I square my shoulders. “Theyen. He was going to—”

“I told you not to do anything foolish. You killed the Spider King? Have you lost your mind?”

“He meant to kill everyone,” I say evenly. “I had to stop him.”