On her own, Cordelia would have had to beg the land to lead her, listening for directions with every step she took. Having her triplets by her side made everything so much easier. While she had trotted in horse form across the kingdom, keeping her focus on the mountains, and Rosalind had stayed alert to human threats, Giles had apparently drawn maps in his head and taken amazingly detailed note of everything they’d passed.

“I recognized the city where Mother’s being held,” he told them as they walked back down Mount Corve, ducking under twisted, overhanging branches and avoiding brambles. “It’s only two days from here, but that army wasn’t camped outside the walls when we passed it two days ago.”

Rosalind scowled consideringly as she pushed another branch out of her way. “Those flags in the army camp around it—they were boars, badgers, and falcons, weren’t they? So the duchess of Solenne and her allies are gathered there, trying to take the city for their own heir.”

“Yet another battle waiting to happen,” Cordelia said wearily. Inside her head, various pieces were moving through the near distance—the land keeping her aware of the positions of all nine soldiers still waiting outside the mist. They would be easy to slip past now that she’d welcomed the land’s guidance—but whole armies would be far trickier to avoid.

Rosalind nodded firmly. “The dukes of Lune and Arden must be holding the castle with Mother and Alys and Connall as their prisoners. Without the three of us, though, they can’t claim the Raven Throne—because everyone agrees that they aren’t the next heirs.”

“Who’s most likely to win that siege?” Giles asked.

“Who knows?” Rosalind shrugged. “All we need to know is that our family is trapped inside … and this time, we’re not running away from the battle.”

They didn’t. They aimed toward it instead once they slipped back through the mist. Cordelia became a sleek black horse once more, with a new makeshift sack hanging around her neck, while Rosalind and Giles rode together on her back. This time, though, every time they stopped to rest, she shifted immediately into girl form so that they could talk through all their memories and fears, trying to fill in the gaps in the history of their family.

Those gaps were still wide open and hurting. Giles hadn’t sung even once since they had left Mount Corve. He kept starting to, then stopping himself with a wince, shrinking inward as if some vital flame had faded to a bare flicker within him.

Rosalind seemed to have shrunk as well. She might have found her own way back to sorcery outside Mount Corve, but now, whenever their conversations died down and her practice sessions came to an end, she sat with her shoulders hunched and her expression dour.