She stares him down, not even breaking eye contact as she raises the flask to her mouth and drinks deeply. “You held my sister hostage. Let’s call it even.”

He sighs, his hands flying up defensively. “I wasn’t actually going to do anything to her. Besides, she tried to fry me alive with lightning.” His attention turns to me. “Where did you even learn how to do that?”

I remember the sting of iron on my skin. I bite the corner of my mouth, pinching it between my teeth until it hurts. “None of your business.”

“Look at yourself. You clearly don’t know how to control it. How do I know you won’t do it again?”

Isolde’s eyes narrow, and she breaks in angrily before I can respond. “You don’t know us. You don’t know anything about Seelie or her magic, and you don’t need to know anything.”

“Believe me,” I snap, “it won’t happen again.” He has no right to complain when it’s my skin emblazoned with the memory of lightning, not his.

Raze snorts. “Oh, sure,” he says sarcastically. “Why wouldn’t I believe you? I trust you both implicitly with my life!”

“Everybody stop!” Olani growls, slamming down her cup. Sweet apple cider sloshes over the rim and puddles on the table.

Well, that would explain the stickiness.

“Raze,” she says calmly, “would you like to find the Mortal’s Keep?”

He turns his glare to her. When it becomes clear she isn’t going to let him off the hook until he responds, he says, “Yes,” in the quiet, sullen mumble of a scolded child.

“And you two,” she says, alternating her hard stare between Isolde and me, “would you like to get paid to guide us there?”

Isolde’s fingers twitch, clutching the flask harder. “Don’t—”

“Would you?”

She sighs. “Yes.”

Olani lets the pause drag out just long enough to become an uncomfortable weight on our shoulders. “Then, we’re all going to have to put up with each other. So can we try and cut down on the squabbling so I don’t have to play at being anyone’s mother?”

Isolde rolls her eyes. “I’d be willing to share,” she mutters, holding the flask out to Raze.

His eyes flick to her for a short moment, and some kind of stiffness leaves his shoulders. He accepts. “Okay. Let’s just get down to business. We need to be on the road by dawn.”

I’m about done speaking for the night, but I bark a sharp, humorless laugh at that. I’m too exhausted after everything to even think about waking before the sun. “Absolutely not.”

Raze lowers the flask from his lips, swallowing hard. He lets out a long-suffering breath. “And why not?”

“Do you want to hear again about the day we’ve had?”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “Every minute we’re asleep is a minute we’re falling behind. Do you want your wagon back or not?”

He’s right, but I’m too tired to deal with this.

“Seelie, maybe we should—” Isolde starts, but this time, I’m the one who interrupts.