“You’re not going to believe me,” she said, after she and Hook had moved far enough into the woods that the others wouldn’t be able to overhear them. “But I think I know where to find Tourmaline. Or . . . where to begin.”

He gave her an incredulous look. “Just last night, you said you didn’t have any idea where it was.”

“I know. But then I used this.” She held up the locket, showing him the alchemical star. It was overcast this morning, a small blessing; she didn’t have to worry about the morning sunlight catching her eyes. “Hold it up to your ear and listen.” He did, and she watched his eyebrows rise when he heard the tiny inorganic heartbeat within, like the tick of a clock but more alive, tmp-tmp, tmp-tmp.

“This is a Made object,” he said, turning it over in his hands. He looked frightened, a little awed. “How on earth did you get ahold of this, Ayla?”

“Doesn’t matter. All that matters is what this locket can do.” Quickly, she explained the locket’s magickal properties, the memories within it, though she didn’t give him any names. “It once belonged to a man who used it to record his memories of his experiences with Tourmaline. With the Maker of Tourmaline. I figured out how to access those memories, and I’ve been sifting through them slowly, searching for leads. Last night, I finally found one. I think the man died in a raid at Lake Thea, sixteen years ago. And I think the Tourmaline stone was with him when he died.”

Lake Thea was the biggest lake in Zulla, half in Rabu and half in Varn, named after Queen Thea of Zulla, the Barren Queen. The founder of the Royal Academy of Makers. The one for whom Thomas Wren had created Kiera.

No, not Thomas Wren. A nameless peasant woman. H.

Hook narrowed his eyes. “And why should I believe you?”

“You don’t have to,” said Crier. “But I’m going to Lake Thea. To the Queen’s Cove. You and the others can accompany me or not, but I’m going. If there’s any chance at all of finding Tourmaline before K—before the Scyre does, I have to take it.”

He looked at her for a long time, scrutinizing.

“It’s only two days’ ride from here,” said Crier. “If I’m wrong, if it’s a dead end, you’ll have lost two days. But if I’m right . . .”

“And if you’re leading us into a trap?”

She blinked at him, surprised. She hadn’t even considered he might think that. “I—I suppose you can’t know for sure that I’m not. But there’s one of me and eight of you, and you’ve been roaming around killing Shades—what trap could be more dangerous than that?”

He was still hesitating.

“I said I’ll go alone and I meant it,” said Crier, resigning herself to a no. “Thank you for saving my life, thank you for a night’s rest. I’ll remember you and what you did for me. But—”