The two bow their heads, and I let them leave without another word. If I open my mouth, it will not be diplomacy that comes out. My body radiates with anger. How insulting of them … but is my fury coming from somewhere else? We Leonodai pride ourselves on knowing our place in the world and among one another. The order our ancestors established holds up through today. There is no need to change it. There is no need to question it.

Or is there?

Lady Alys and Lord Rhys are right, I realize, the pit in my stomach growing. What we always called order is turning out to be stagnancy—and our people are dying because of it.

25

ROWAN

“The cure,” I say. “It’s here.”

Excitement sends me practically flying to the cabinets to double-check them for more.

Now all we have to do is get back to the Heliana. Everything’s going to be fine—the prince will live, and all the children will be safe. I’ll be safe, too, though in a different way. Like Callen said, helping bring back the cure will have to absolve me.

But my search inside turns up empty. I curse. “I’ll start looking outside.”

“Take something warm,” Seth replies. “Ox, check the other rooms.”

I follow Ox to a tidy bedroom. “This your size?” he says, holding up an obviously too-large coat.

“However did you know?” I reply. He hands it to me, stepping closer as he does.

“Rowan,” he says. “What are you not telling me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You went outside when Sethran told you not to, and you took Callen with you,” Ox says, an edge in his tone. “You bring up the urgency of this mission a least half a dozen times a day even though we all know what’s at stake. What’s going on?”

“Callen followed me,” I say. I lower my voice. “And I just don’t want to get off course. I can’t get off course.”

“Kind of feels like you are already,” he says.

“Ox, wait.” He lingers in the door. “This will all make sense soon,” I say. “I promise. Just trust me.”

There’s more I should say. My heart feels split in two parts, as opposite as night and day—and it’s not my heart I’m supposed to be caring about.

He nods. “I trust you.”

“Thank you,” I say, and we walk back to the main room as if nothing happened. Pulling the human’s coat tightly around my shoulders, I head out the door.

Sinking to my knees, I push my hands into the muddy dirt, ready to scream. Nothing. We’ve looked for hours now under a pale gray sky, and we haven’t seen any more of it. Seth salvaged the one flower we did find and pressed it into a pocket of his satchel.