“Trust me,” said her older brother fiercely. “Trust Mother, trust Alys, and thank all the surviving spirits of the land that you and Giles and Rosalind are still together. But you have to understand …”

He let out a long breath. “Mother would never have fled into the forest if she could have helped it. You know how she hates to back down from any fight—but she knew she couldn’t protect any of us if she stayed. First my father was killed in one of these stupid, endless battles over the crown, and then Lady Elianora used me to force her into marrying again.”

He took a shuddering breath, then shook his head hard. “Mother got me back, though, when she agreed to remarry for the family’s sake. And your father—oh, Cordy, if you’d only known him! Grandmother might have chosen him for his position, but the way he loved Mother and loved me—we both ended up loving him, too. How could we not? He said he was my father, no matter how we’d come together. He made family feel safe. But then he died fighting for a different heir. No one can ever hang on to that throne without the Raven Crown to seal it!

“Mother swore she wouldn’t let any of her children be stolen from her ever again, by her mother or by the throne—but everyone knew by then that she was pregnant. None of our families would ever let any heirs out of their grasp. I may not remember much from that time, but …”

His face twisted as he glanced at the cold stone walls that curved around them. “I remember enough—and I swore, even then, that Lady Elianora would never get hold of me again. I would have done anything to stay safe from her and keep all of you safe, too.” His hands fisted at his sides. “We had to get out, no matter what it took.”

“But why didn’t Mother just explain all of that to us?” Cordelia demanded. “If she’d only—ahh!”

White mist was suddenly curling up her legs, thick and sticky and cold, stretching tingling, grasping fingers toward her hands and arms to pull her down within it. Lurching away, she kicked out desperately—but that only made the mist cling even more closely to her gown and her shoes. The rough stone walls of Connall’s vision should have pressed firmly against her back, but all she felt now was a damp and spongy sensation, like cloud banks rising to suck her in.

“We’re running out of time.” Connall’s jaw clenched. This time, when he reached out for her, she couldn’t feel his fingers against her skin. They passed through her like ghosts. “The sorcerers here must have felt what I’m doing. They’re already doing their best to break my casting. They’ll be here any moment now.”