He kisses my knuckles and the red stone of my ring as my eyes burn with tears. I collapse against him, wrapping my arms around his waist as he presses his nose to the top of my head.

“I don’t want to lose you,” I say.

“You won’t,” he replies into my hair.

“You can’t promise that.”

“But I do.”

I look up, seeing the conviction in his eyes.

My breath sticks in my lungs with the heavy certainty that someone will soon take him from me forever. I can’t let that happen. I will fight until I’m nothing but a pile of dust.

I let out a strangled breath. “Then let’s go,” I say.

The dogs trot in front as we head downstairs. Everyone is gathered in the library, perched on the various velvet upholstered chairs and sofas scattered throughout the room. Bookshelves line the walls and a fire roars in the hearth. The tall windows leak with plumes of colorful light, gilding everyone in rainbow edges.

Anemone, dressed in a tunic and leggings, has arrived with Etienne and the Book of Night. Cyan has also acquired some warmer clothing, and the dark colors seem to make his bright hair glow with even more brilliance.

“Have a seat,” Amya says as Nadir and I enter. She stands with her hands clasped, the lines around her mouth tight. Her dark hair is slicked into a high bun, and she wears black leather leggings with a corset, all of it embellished with bright streaks of violet, emerald, and fuchsia. Though I wasn’t expecting good news, she looks more worried than I’d like.

“What’s happening?” Nadir asks, clearly picking up on the same feeling.

“So, we returned to the Keep prepared to convince Father that Mael and I had abandoned you to your own devices . . .”

“And?” Nadir asks.

“And he’s not there.”

A pause of silence echoes around the room.

“He never returned after I escaped them in Alluvion?” I ask.

“No,” Amya says. “They returned, but everyone I’ve spoken to—his guards and attendants—all confirm that Father disappeared two days ago. His study is a mess—empty glasses and bottles lie all over the place with papers and books strewn everywhere.”

Nadir shakes his head. “That . . . doesn’t make sense.”

“I know,” she replies. “Mael and I searched through his things, but either he left, or someone took him.”

“Did you find anything useful?” Nadir asks.

“I’m not sure. There was a chest full of journals. From what I could tell, they were written by Herric.”

“What?” I ask sharply. Herric left journals?

“How could anything survive that long?” Cyan asks.

“I don’t know that either,” Amya says. “They must have been enchanted. There are dozens, and Father was definitely reading them. We found crumpled notes everywhere, too.”

“King Herric,” Cedar says, as if he’s tasting the bitter syllables while we all share a wary look.