“For now. But what about when she figures out we’ve moved them?” Ryber’s hand dropped. “You just told her how to access a thousand years’ worth of guarded secrets. Goddess, what if she finds Eridysi’s workshop, Stix? Or she gets into the Crypts? Or … “Horror bulged in her eyes. “What if she finds the tombs? My sisters are frozen there. Kullen is frozen there.”

For the first time since leaving Kahina, the triumphant surge in Stix’s chest faltered. She had thought herself so clever for telling Kahina where she had found the tools, instead of where they were. After all, that meant she had lost nothing, while hundreds of prisoners had gained freedom.

“She won’t find the Crypts or tombs,” Stix murmured, but Ryber only wagged her head.

“You can’t know that. And again, what will happen when Kahina finds out you’ve tricked her? Need I remind you of what those tools can do? Why they were created in the first place?”

“No,” Stix mumbled.

Ryber reminded her anyway. “Eridysi made them to kill the Exalted Ones after they ruined the Witchlands with their tyranny. That broken looking glass will show Paladins for what they are, and that blade will kill them. It will kill you, Stix. Forever.”

“I know.” Stix’s mumble turned to a growl. “I’ve seen my own death a hundred times, remember?”

“But that wasn’t a real death.” Ryber fumbled her diary off her belt and thrust it toward Stix. Humidity-muffled moonlight beamed over it. “If you would just read this, you’d understand what I’m talking about. You’d understand why Kahina can’t have Eridysi’s tools—”

“I do understand,” Stix snapped. “And I have no plans to tell her where they are.” She dug a knuckle into her forehead; her crooked spectacles shifted down her nose. She didn’t want to fight with Ryber because it wasn’t Ryber she was actually frustrated with. It was herself—had she made a mistake?—and it was the voices gathering once more at the base of her skull. Why are you leaving? they wanted to know. Come back this way, keep coming!

She wasn’t sure how much longer she could endure this swollen pressure always buzzing. And she certainly couldn’t watch another person die in the Ring.

She had done the right thing to free them. Of course it was the right thing.

As if sensing Stix’s misery, the orange tabby piled onto her lap. Ryber must have sensed too, for when she spoke again, her tone had softened. “Kahina isn’t stupid, Stix. She has lived countless lifetimes, just like you.”

“Not like me,” Stix countered, but her heart wasn’t in the argument. She was tired of the Ring, tired of Kahina, tired of the blade and the glass, and above all else, tired of this Paladin soul she’d never asked for.