Herric, the Lord of the Underworld.

Is this connected? Have the strings been pulled from such a distance?

“So we can enter the Keep,” Tristan asks, “without worrying about your father?”

Mael shakes his head. “I’ve questioned all his guards, and they could be lying, but it seems they aren’t currently in contact with him. It’s impossible to say. It could also be a trap, and we’d be playing right into his hands.”

“But we need to get the Torch,” I say.

“So we sneak in,” Nadir says. “We would have had to do that anyway.”

“What do we do about Zerra?” I ask, my gaze flicking upwards. Along with the destroyed castle, I can’t get the image of her screaming out of my head. The way she bent with pain and the look on her face when she sent that final blast my way. “If we go near the Torch, she might see us again.”

“You said the Keep is made of virulence?” Anemone asks, and Nadir nods.

“It should shield you long enough to get the Torch. That amount would block out her sight.”

“I wondered if that’s why Herric built it.”

She nods. “That would make sense.”

“What about the ceremony?” Willow asks. “Can we all go in?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Mael says. “It’s one thing for us to sneak in, but all of you will draw too much attention.”

“So, you will go under the mountain for the bonding,” Bronte adds a moment later, and every eye turns to her.

Anemone nods. “That would work if we can find a large enough deposit.”

“I think we also need to take a closer look at those journals,” Nadir says. “Maybe that will give us a clue about where he went.”

Amya nods. “We spent hours in there. If it’s a trap, then he’s either not worried about his study, or he’s specifically waiting for both of you.”

“He’s likely to have the ark with him,” Nadir says. “We might need to spring any trap he’s set.”

I wrap my hand around his forearm, and he covers his hand with mine.

“There’s something else you all need to know,” he says, looking at me before he turns to his sister. “After we get the Torch, I also will ask it to release me from my role as Primary.”

Collective surprise moves around the room. Everyone stares at the two of us.

“You’re . . .” Mael says, trailing off. I wonder if he’s ever been at a loss for a clever remark.

“We’ve discussed it and agreed that I would be the one,” Nadir says.

“I’ve been wondering,” Amya says. “I didn’t want to pry. But—”