How did she know about the egg?

“Oh, come on,” she snaps, smug tone finally giving way to impatience. “Why do you keep assuming that I’m as ignorant about everything as you are? I’ve been studying that compass for longer than you’ve been alive, with all the knowledge from all the Wildline matriarchs who came before me. You’re way out of your depth, all of you.”

Raze isn’t acting like himself, and I can’t figure out why. I need him to say something clever or confident or incredibly foolish, to do something unexpected and escape this whole mess. “I-I know exactly what I’m doing,” he stammers instead. “And it mostly revolves around getting rid of you.”

Leira places her hand over her heart. “How sweet.” Her tone transforms in an instant, going sharp and brittle. “Grow up, Raze. If you had any sense you’d have realized a long time ago that working with me is always a better bet than working against me.”

He takes a step back. His voice is thick with tightly controlled emotion, his fists clenched. “You’re the one who kicked me out!”

She pauses, not so much as a twitch of emotion showing on her face. “And at what point did you decide you were too good to try to redeem yourself? Who raised you? Who taught you how to use your powers, no matter how—”

“You put me in a cage!” Raze’s shout echoes over the stone, not quite a sob. Sympathy shreds my heart, and I’m almost overwhelmed with the urge to put a comforting hand on his arm.

“You learned, didn’t you?” she snarls.

“Apparently I didn’t learn enough. I should have seen you for what you are. I was a child.”

“You were—are—an enchanter.” Her hands twitch, and I wonder what destruction she’s about to rain down on us. “You were weak. Pathetic. You would have been nothing without my training. It’s a shame,” she sniffs, tilting her head to the side. Her dragons sniff, too. “I really thought I could make some use of you. And I was so hoping we could resolve this without resorting to violence. Now, give me the egg, or I’ll kill all your little friends.”

On Leira’s command, Aris draws a shimmering silver dagger and presses it to my sister’s throat.

“No!” I scream. I realize I’m holding my hands out in front of me, palms raised. Tiny balls of flame flicker, dancing over my skin without leaving a mark. I hadn’t meant to summon them, but I hold my hands up anyway, trying to look threatening. Trying to look like I have any idea what to do with it.

Isolde’s eyes go wide, and a few of the guards around her take a step back. The dragons snarl, revealing their pointed teeth, and I see their muscles tense, waiting for permission to pounce. Aris’s eyes widen, and her hand trembles almost imperceptibly. Even though she tries to hide it, I see the truth: she’s still afraid of me. She covers it quickly, glancing at Leira, and holds her ground.