“I hid the tree out here, far from the humans, where I hoped my mother would forget about it.” He smiles gently. “This is where I come to escape.”

I study the wishes, letting my eyes trail over a few of them. They ask for similar things—for their families to be looked after in the living world, for forgiveness for wrongs they weren’t able to mend, and for a chance to do things differently. They sound more like regrets than wishes.

Maybe because in Infinity, the past is the one thing we can’t change.

My eyes dance from branch to branch. “Are one of these yours?”

“Yes,” he says, eyes moving quickly, as if they’re chasing the sound of chimes. “It’s here somewhere. Though I must confess, it’s yet to come true.”

I make a face. “You’re a prince; you can have anything you want just by willing it into existence.”

His eyes sadden. “Not everything.”

I look away, fighting the guilt tapping at my heart. Trying to pretend like I don’t see his frustration.

Like I don’t see his cage.

But he put humans in a cage too. I won’t forget how he marched those people to Death like faulty merchandise being returned to a factory. This is his court—his world—and he’s as complicit as the rest of them.

I can’t humanize the Residents. Not anymore.

“Sometimes I worry we’ve chased all the beauty out of the world,” he says solemnly.

“What do you mean?”

The usual confidence in his voice fades. “I know it had to be done, but when I saw my brother’s ship blocking the sun, all I could think was how much darkness he brought to the land.”

I listen to the bells chime, wondering whether it’s safe to say anything at all. “If you don’t like the darkness, you have the power to change it.”

He looks at me carefully, silver eyes shining. “But what if we are the darkness?”

I stare back at him, the betrayal evaporating into something lighter. Something that looks too much like wishful thinking. It’s too late, my mind scolds. You know what you have to do. But my words leave me anyway. “Even on the darkest night, there’s a star to light the way.”

“Yes. Yes, I believe that’s true,” he says, lost in thought.

“What will they do with the humans?” I ask softly.

His face tilts up toward the wishes like he’s searching for his own. “Lysander was tasked with finding a way to separate human consciousness from Infinity. The humans will remain in his court while he searches for a solution.”

“So they’re to be test subjects?” My attempt at being inquisitive sounds more like an accusation.