“I... You know what I mean.” He looks away.

“Raze.” She leans in, elbowing him gently until he finally looks back at her face. “I didn’t make a mistake. I chose your side because I wanted to be here.”

“Here?”

She takes a second to observe our bleak surroundings before an ironic smile tilts her mouth ever so slightly. “You know what I mean,” she says.

Raze’s shoulders are still hunched. “But Leira...”

“Is a power-hungry murderer who needs to go down. I want to be a part of that.”

“And the treasure?”

“Well, the treasure doesn’t hurt.” She leans her head onto his shoulder in a brief almost-hug that reminds me starkly of Isolde and me doing the same thing. Finally, Raze relaxes, allowing himself to smile back at her.

Isolde stares daggers at her splinted ankle, as if pure anger might be able to heal it faster. I know she’s taking the injury hard. I know there’s nothing she’d like more than to spring into action as the protector, the hero. “On my next quest, I’ll just have to try harder not to get hurt right as it’s getting good.”

“I—” I start to reply, but I can’t. Her next quest? She can’t be serious. That argument we had—that was just an impulse, like every other decision she’s ever made. That was before the faerie world, before she was turned into a fox, before her broken ankle, before we almost died. She can’t possibly still mean to turn her back on home. “W-we’re going home,” I stammer, eventually.

“What’s wrong?” Raze says.

Isolde ignores him. “Yes, we’re going home. But...after that. We talked about this, Seelie.” She pushes against the ground to force herself to her feet, too, gritting her teeth.

“No.” My voice shakes. “No, no, no. This was supposed to be fixed. I... I tried so hard.” I’ve tried to keep her safe, to finish the mission, to do everything I was supposed to do. To be the sister she wants me to be, so she won’t need to go. “And you still want to leave me?”

Isolde sighs, and I can hear the frustration in it. Pain and exhaustion are wearing on her usual patience. “It’s not about you, Seelie. Sometimes, things aren’t about you. Did you ever consider that?”

I’m stunned. Even Raze and Olani flinch, averting their eyes. Isolde never talks to me like that. I mean, we’ve fought before, plenty of times. But every time, it stings. My throat feels tight, and I have to focus very hard on shutting up, on not crying, on not embarrassing myself in front of my new friends.

“Maybe—” Raze tries.

“And it’s not like I said you couldn’t come along!” Isolde interrupts. She’s getting loud now, her voice magnified in echoes that crash down on me one after the other. “I asked you to. All the things you can do, and you just want to hide behind me like you can’t—behind Mami—behind any excuse.”

She seems angry about something else. I don’t know why she’s angry at me. It’s too warm in the morning air, it’s too uncomfortable in my own skin, and I’m squeezing my hands tight into fists and forcing down magic and tears and—