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“Morgs! Gods, Morgs! Are you hurt? What’s happening?” I tightened my hold, so relieved to see her, to hold her. To know she was okay. But she pushed me off.

“It’s Mercurial. He’s escaping. Causing a distraction.” She narrowed her gaze, as if communicating with the Afeya. “It’s because of the presence of the shard,” she continued, her expression focused. “It gave him the strength to escape. Aemon isn’t at full power yet. Not at his god-strength, but he will be soon, if he possesses this.”

“But he was already powerful enough to control Mercurial? To control akadim?”

Morgana shook her head. “He’s controlled akadim for years. Something he remembers from his past life allows it. And he’s started to create kashonim with them. Trading blood—giving them silver collars like armor—siphoning their power. The akadim couldn’t touch Asherah’s blood before. But they can now. They can touch the blood of any Guardian reincarnated.”

“I know. I encountered a few. Morgs, let’s go. We can escape. We just need to get Meera and Rhyan. He can get us out.” I took her hand, squeezing tight.

Morgana looked back at Aemon, his wrists turning against the black armrests at his sides, his body twitching, fighting to awaken.

“Come on,” Morgana said, running toward the poles. “We don’t have much time.” She pulled her stave from the folds of her black gown.

“You were able to keep your stave?” I asked in surprise.

“I was kidnapped and held prisoner by akadim before today. It was useless against them.” Quickly, she began muttering under her breath, pointing the stave at Meera, and then at Rhyan. At once, their ropes dissolved and they both slumped against the poles they’d been tied to.

She chanted again, and Meera’s eyes opened, hazel, wide and in shock. She sat at the base of the pole, stunned, her eyes looking at Morgana with betrayal.

“What?” she asked. “What happened?”

As Rhyan’s eyes opened, he moved quickly, traveling to our side, his eyes assessing, seeing the akadim were down, seeing Aemon’s head falling forward on his throne.

“We need to go,” he said. “Now!”

“Can you carry all three of us?” I asked, hating I had to put that on him.

Rhyan sucked in a breath, seemingly adding our weights up in his mind.

“How much time we do have?” he asked.

“Less than a minute,” Morgana said.

“I think I can do it.”

I nodded, and Rhyan reached immediately for me.

But Morgana shook her head. “No. You risk using too much power. Take us one by one.”

Rhyan’s eyes fell on me, unsure of the request, but without time to argue, reached for me again.

I shook my head. “No. Meera first. Please.” She looked so frail. I had to be sure she was free.

“Lady Meera,” he said, sweeping her into his arms. A second later they were gone.”

I stood with Morgana, my stomach twisting. Were you hurt? Then I suddenly remembered, she couldn’t hear my thoughts anymore. I opened my mouth.

“I wasn’t,” she said. “And I can hear you. It wasn’t the Valalumir that stopped me hearing your thoughts. Aemon…he gave you an elixir that night at Cresthaven. It protected your mind from mind-reading—like a shield over your thoughts. I should have known.” Her aura darkened, flaring out around me, and my stomach twisted.

“An elixir?” I asked. “To protect against vorakh? Morgs, there’s no such thing.”

She nodded solemnly. “There is. I should have told you a long time ago. There was a reason I didn’t know about Arianna’s treachery. And I’m so sorry. We found out…after they’re tested in Lethea, the vorakh who can read minds are sent to the Emperor. Their magic is siphoned, creating an elixir that keeps their thoughts hidden. Arianna was taking it. That’s how she tricked me.”

“What?” I asked. “Morgs…no. No. That’s not…. They take vorakh to the Emperor?”

Rhyan reappeared. The lights were flickering, and I could feel it. Mercurial’s magic, his chaos, was beginning to wear off. Aemon would open his eyes in seconds.

“Rhyan I don’t think we have time for two trips,” I said. “Can you manage both of us?”