The buzzing and wailing in my ears stopped as one of the objects from the piles came flying over and hit Varia in the head. And when I say hit, it nailed her. There was an audible crack, and she went down instantly, eyes staring vacantly ahead. Her dogs—which had been yapping nonstop—fell silent in astonishment.

I heard a sharp intake of breath and saw Jasmine struggling to shake off the lingering effects of the disorientation. Blood ran from her ears, but she didn’t look like she’d suffered any other ill effects. I caught her hand and helped her up. Once on my feet again, I peered back at Varia’s still body and got a good look at what had hit her. It was the marble bust of Dorian that had been the Oak Land’s gift.

A tremor ran through the room, and I immediately looked up at the ceiling, afraid some earthquake was about to bring the whole place crashing down. Four floors underground was not a great place to be during seismic events. The shaking stopped after a few seconds.

“It’s just the land reacting to her death,” said a pleasant voice. “It’s now unclaimed and seeking a new master or mistress. You could add on to your empire, if you wanted.”

“Dorian?” I asked incredulously.

Sure enough, he was leaning in the doorway, looking as though that was all that was keeping him upright. He actually didn’t look much better than when I last saw him, fresh out of the torturers’ hands. The only difference now, of course, was that he was breathing and conscious. Otherwise, he still looked sickly and broken.

He glanced down at Varia. “That was rather clumsy of me to hit her so hard, I suppose. And a very brutish tactic to boot. I didn’t have much time to think and had to decide on the spot how best to stop her from hurting my two favorite sisters.” He suddenly looked very pleased. “I did, however, manage to do it without hurting those dogs. Very considerate of me. Don’t let it be said I’m not an animal lover—that wretched kitsune aside.”

“Dorian!” It was all I could keep managing to say. Assured of my footing, I ran over to him and threw my arms around him. He returned the hug as best he could while still managing to support himself in the doorway.

“Why, Eugenie. Once again, I almost think you’re happy to see me. Surely you didn’t expect me to let you keep being the hero, did you? You’ve saved me far too many times. I needed to pull my share.”

I was so happy he was alive and mostly well that I still struggled to say anything coherent. I carefully disentangled myself from him. “I don’t know what to do,” I laughed. “I feel like I should cry or slap you.”