Grim silence filled the tower as we all came to terms with the idea that we might not be able to do anything. That the survival of those people was entirely dependent on whether Tristan persevered.

“What about a song?” Sabine asked, and when I raised both eyebrows in askance, she added, “I saw your mother, I mean Anushka, do it at the masque. So did Tristan. When she sang, it seemed as though everyone was in a trance. No one moved – they barely seemed to breathe.”

But that had been Anushka, a witch who’d been honing her craft for five centuries. What she had been capable of and what I was capable of were two very different things. Still, the idea resonated with me, and the more I thought about how it might work, the more I believed it was possible. To focus on the song as sort of a spell. Not to compel, but to… mesmerize?

“It won’t hurt to try,” Sabine said, squeezing my hand.

I nodded slowly. “Marc, could you amplify my voice enough that everyone could hear without stopping what you’re doing?” I had no intention of sacrificing those at sea to save those outside the wall.

“Yes,” he said, then tapped a gloved finger against his chin. “We’ll have to muffle the ears of any human we don’t want affected, half-bloods, too.”

“Marie might still have rowan, which would work just as well. I’ll go find her,” Sabine said, helping me up before she departed.

My gaze went to the open sea. “I won’t be able to do this forever, Marc. What is it that we can hope to accomplish?”

“I’ll go out and help as many injured as I can,” Gran said before he could respond. “I’ll see if Sabine can get me the materials I need.”

“Speak to Lady Marie,” Marc said. “She’ll be able to help you faster. Tell her I sent you. And find Joss – she could be of use.”

It was only the two of us and the dog left on the tower. “Marc?” I asked again.

In a rare move, he pulled his hood back, revealing his disfigurement in its entirety. It struck me then that if I removed the iron from him, he wouldn’t have to look like that anymore. That is, if he didn’t want to. Part of me was certain that even given the chance, he’d remain the same.

“We’ll be buying time for Tristan,” he said. “That’s all.”

“And if he falls?” Even saying it hurt; as did the idea that there would be more for me to do if he did.

Marc was quiet, and I swore I could hear the screams of those outside the walls. “We can run,” he said. “Take those who matter to us and get far away, regroup, then try again another day. Or not.”