So I stuck to Marta and Maiwenn and how Kiyo had to help us defeat Varia. I even mentioned the menagerie of pets he had back in Arizona. When I felt I’d made a decent effort, I moved on to Pagiel, who was a bit easier. I praised his bravery and loyalty and talked about his family, even saying kind words about Ysabel and Edria. After Kiyo, those two women no longer ranked so high on my list of despised people.

That left Dorian. It was weird because I probably knew him the best, and yet ... I really wasn’t sure exactly which words would get through to him. As it was, I had a hard enough time making myself say anything. It was too weird seeing him so lifeless. Dorian was always in motion. Even when he was deceptively calm, there was an energy that crackled within him. He was always thinking something, always planning ahead. But now? This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how he was supposed to be. How many times had that little smirk of his infuriated me? I’d give anything now to see it replace this listlessness.

I stared at him for a long time. Panic seized me, mostly because I was suddenly afraid I would fail. There was so much between us that I’d been putting off. Had I lost my chance forever? It took me three tries to finally talk to him because I kept choking up.

“We can’t do this without you,” I managed at last. “Everyone talks about my powers, but you’re the badass here. We need you to pull this off—and for more than just your magic. Who else is going to be smart enough to get us to those gifts? Even Volusian’s not sure where they’re at. We need you for the planning—and I know you’re sure as hell not going to let that Varia bitch get the best of you. The Oak Land means too much to you. It’s everything to you.”

I exhausted those topics as much as I could, praising his strength and cleverness. I knew there were deeper topics to address but couldn’t quite get myself to go there. I was about to start the rounds again with the other guys when I heard someone coming through the woods. I turned, silently cursing Volusian for not warning me, and then saw it was Jasmine and Keeli. They and their horses looked as if they’d been traveling at breakneck speeds. Keeli climbed down practically before her horse even came to a halt and proudly showed me several vines of mistletoe.

“More than enough,” I said in approval. “Any trouble? Were you spotted?”

“Never saw anyone,” said Jasmine, joining Keeli. “We were lucky enough to find some oaks not far from the border that had this stuff growing.”