“I’ve been seeing them, off and on, since we—since I healed you,” Han said. “I hoped they would come today. I don’t know if this will work, but…” He extended his hands toward the wolf queens. Flame danced on his fingertips. Light arced from his hands to the wolves and back to him.

Hanalea tilted her head, gazing at Han with a wolfish grin.

Why would Han Alister see wolves? Raisa wondered. That was a trait of the Gray Wolf line, linked to the gift of prophesy. It didn’t make sense.

Must be some quirk of the healing process, she thought. Of their joining together.

The wolves closed their eyes and laid back their ears. Lifting their muzzles toward the sky, they began to howl, a mournful cry that raised the hair on Raisa’s neck.

“Oh!” she said, shivering.

Nightwalker came upright, looking ready to spring. “What is it, Briar Rose? What did he do?”

“Your Highness, have you ever noticed how hard it is to concentrate and do things right when somebody’s yammering in your ear?” Han said. “If this goes wrong, I’m just saying, I’m not the one to blame.”

Despite his sardonic tone, sweat pebbled his forehead and dewed his upper lip, like he was expending considerable energy. Or was nervous about the outcome.

The wolves finished their dirge. Hanalea turned toward Raisa and dipped her head. The royal pack melted into shadow and dissipated.

Han withdrew his hand and stood, head down, taking quick shallow breaths like he’d run a great race. The Lone Hunter amulet underlit his face, creating shadows and highlighting planes. Sweat dripped off him, spotting the rug.

Raisa wrapped her arms around herself, gripping her elbows to either side. She still tingled all over, but that seemed to be the only lasting effect. “Was it…did it work?” she asked.

Han raised his head and blotted perspiration from his forehead with his sleeve. “We’ll see soon enough.”

Raisa saw the question on Nightwalker’s face and decided to ask it herself, thinking she might actually get an answer. “What were you trying to do?”

“I was creating a sending.”

“A sending? What’s that?”

“A glamour. An image to use once we’re on Marianna Peak. Something that will impress and confuse the Wizard Council and the rest of the bluebloods. Something that will make you a difficult target.” Han glanced at Nightwalker. “Remember? I said I would create a magical distraction,” he said, as if Nightwalker needed simple speech.

“Can I put my ring back on?” Raisa asked, pressing her fingers against her pouch.

Han frowned, biting his lower lip, then shook his head. “Better not. I think we have to keep the magical connection alive until after.”

Elena poked her head through the doorway. “Are you ready? We must go, granddaughter.”

Raisa would ride hidden amid the Demonai contingent escorting her grandmother to the queen’s memorial.