“Something you have been working on?” Tisaanah echoed.

I didn’t like the sound of that—Ishqa having secret machinations.

He inclined his chin. “Let us take a trip.”

* * *

Ishqa broughtTisaanah and I with him as he used magic to leap us to the outskirts of the city, then a forest, then three more times until we found ourselves standing before a stone house surrounded by trees. The house was small, but grand, clearly made for someone with an appreciation for the finer things in life. In design, it looked as if it could be part of a great estate, perhaps as a large guest house for high-ranking visitors, but there was no estate here, only forest. There was little in the way of landscaping, not even a gate, just a single brick path that led to a huge set of dark-stained wood doors.

The woman who opened the door was inhumanly beautiful—it was obvious that she was Fey long before I saw the points of her ears. She had a delicate face and sleek dark hair. She did not seem particularly happy to see us.

“Ishqa,” she said.

“Sareid.” Ishqa bowed his head. “We’re here to see your brother-in-law.”

“I don’t know if that is a good—”

“Please, Sareid. It is important.”

Her eyes flicked over Ishqa’s shoulder, to Tisaanah and I.

“They are safe,” Ishqa said. “Friends.”

A wrinkle of concern deepened between her brows, and she looked unconvinced, but she opened the door and stepped aside.

The home was dimly lit, the door leading directly into a narrow hallway with a curved ceiling, decorated with dusty paintings. We were led into a large sitting room that, funnily enough, reminded me of my old cottage. The furniture was mismatched, scattered about the room in an awkward semi-circle, and every individual piece seemed like a relic from a different age. Two large windows spilled tree-dappled light over fur rugs, but a fire still roared in the hearth anyway. A man sat before it, his back to us.

“Ezra,” Sareid said. “Ishqa is here to see you again.”

“Thank you for meeting me, as always.” Ishqa bowed. He shot me and Tisaanah a pointed look, and we hastily followed suit, though we didn’t know why we were bowing or to whom.

Sareid backed out of the room and closed the door. The figure before the fire stood and turned to us. He was tall and slender, with a smooth, ageless face. He was fair, with bright blue eyes and silver-gold hair cropped close to his skull, which emphasized the size and point of his ears.

“Maxantarius, Tisaanah, this is Ezra,” Ishqa said. “Ezra is one of the last remaining old kings of the Fey. He once ruled over the Kingdom of Niraja.”

Despite myself, my eyebrows lurched.

Niraja, as in, the city of ruins that we recently destroyed? And Ishqa still calls this man a king?

“Ezra, allow me to introduce you to Tisaanah Vytezic, leader of the seven Threllian nations, and Maxantarius Farlione, rightful Arch Commandant of the Aran Order of Midnight and Order of Daybreak.”

I almost choked. He introduced us like we wereroyalty. I glanced at Tisaanah, who looked like she was trying very hard to control her facial expressions.

Ezra looked us up and down. “Hm.”

Tisaanah recovered from her shock quickly. A split second later it was replaced by a gentle smile and another, deeper bow. “It is an honor to meet you, King Ezra.”

“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “An honor.”

It would have been an even greater honor if Ishqa had bothered to give us some background on this mess.

Ishqa said, “I bring them to meet with you, Ezra, because I think it is finally time.”

Ezra looked confused. “Time for what?”

“Time to reclaim your throne.”

Ezra made a choking sound that was almost a laugh. “My throne? My throne is gone.”