I was shown to my room by a couple of Bajang cubs. Just as I opened the door, one of them snorted as the other whispered something in his ear.

“What’s so funny?” I asked, an eyebrow raised. I had a feeling it had to do with the whole “cats and dogs” thing my brother had told me about.

“We’re just curious what you look like as a wolf. We can smell it all over you,” said the first one with a grin.

“Tough luck, kiddo,” I replied with a smirk. “I’m only half wolf, and can’t turn.”

“That’s too bad.” The other frowned. “We would’ve liked to play with you.”

“I can still scratch, bite, and kick you two around, if you’re up for a game.” I winked, then tickled them both with a playful growl.

They giggled and turned into the small felines they were, both a bright orange and the size of a couple of lion cubs. They were absolutely adorable and started pouncing around, play-fighting, going for my legs.

I dodged them and laughed as they rolled on the floor, one on top of the other, with the clumsiest moves I’d ever seen. A growl echoed from another room, and they both stilled, looking toward the end of the hallway at the source of the sound.

They tumbled apart and trotted away, mewling at what I assumed was their mother calling out to them. I watched them until they disappeared around the corner, then went into my room and closed the door behind me. I’d needed a little laugh after what I’d been through.

I emptied my lungs with one heavy breath, then headed for a shower. After shivering under the cold water for a few minutes, thankful to discover a bar of soap in a cabinet under the sink, I washed my garments and hung them by the bathroom door to dry, then wrapped myself in a towel.

I wondered if the Bajangs kept any clothes in this place. I checked the dresser first, and found a multitude of once-colorful silken clothes, dulled by the passage of time. I picked a red robe that reminded me of a Japanese kimono. I figured it would do for the night, so I put it on and tied its fine, gold-threaded string around my waist. I noticed how the fabric molded itself against my breasts—it was one size too small, given the deep V cleavage, but it was better than sleeping in a towel.

A knock on the door startled me.

I opened it to find Field standing there—he’d found some clothes in his room as well, a pair of black pants and a white dress shirt with a ridiculous number of ruffles. I would’ve laughed at any man who wore this kind of garment, yet it looked gorgeous on him. His gaze darkened as he measured me from head to toe, and I could almost hear his heart thumping in his chest. He let out a stifled groan as he looked up, his eyes half-closed.

“I… I wanted to see you,” he managed to say, his voice barely audible.

I realized then that it was my outfit that had stirred him, and the thought of my effect on him agitated the butterflies in my stomach. I felt my cheeks burn as I stepped aside, inviting him to come in.

He walked through the door and stopped in the middle of the room. With his back to me, he glanced at the bed to his right, then over his shoulder, his eyes burning greenish blue as they found me. My breath hitched as he turned around and came toward me.

I stilled as he reached me, his face inches from mine. He didn’t say a word. Instead, without taking his eyes off me, he reached out and closed the door behind me.

He lifted a finger and gently ran it down the side of my face, his gaze softening as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice making my insides vibrate.

“Hot,” I managed to say, suddenly breathless.

He took me in his arms and pulled me tight against his hard body. I exhaled sharply as his chest pressed against mine, ripping a groan from his throat. He kissed me, deeply, and I evaporated under the sweet taste of his lips.

I opened my mouth and welcomed him, caressing his face with one hand while I snaked my other arm around his neck. His embrace was so intense, so delicious and so enlightening, that I nearly lost my balance. He held me up, then paused to look at me as I bit my lower lip, still tasting him. He was what I’d needed since the protective shield had fallen. His warmth, his comfort, and the sound of his heartbeat echoing in my chest. I relaxed against him, and he lifted me off the floor, placing me on the bed. He removed his boots and took me in his arms again, holding me close as we lowered our heads onto the pillow. He spooned me, his warmth invading my body, and I felt his breath brushing against the back of my neck.

“It’s been a long day,” he whispered.

“And night,” I added.

He kissed my shoulder through the red silk, sending heatwaves through my body. I listened to his breathing for a while, thankful to have him there and so close to me, so into me, before my mind drifted away.

My thoughts somehow wandered to the young Druids. Before the Daughters had taken Viola, before the shield had vanished and we’d had to abandon the mansion, running for our lives for so many miles, I’d made it my mission to find the young Druids in the present and make sure they were still alive.

Before I could even fully process the idea of a vision, I felt my eyelids getting heavy as the darkness came over me. My breath hitched, and my pulse started racing as I realized I was sinking into a vision. That automatically brought on the fear of bumping into Azazel again.

Please don’t, please don’t, please don’t. I mentally begged myself to stay focused on the young Druids before I blacked out.

* * *

I was taken to a desert, an endless ocean of red sand beneath a purplish sky, as the night set in. A wide river whispered to my right, its crystalline waters rolling over rounded black pebbles. The river bank was lush and green, spanning about half a mile before it faded into the desert, rich with arching palm trees and exotic flower bushes, and riddled with songbirds and various small reptiles.

A cluster of giant black rocks rested on both sides of the river, casting their shadows and keeping their residents in relative safety, away from plain sight.

I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that my vision had brought me to the young Druids, who were still very much alive. I counted six of them.

They wore reptile skins in shades of dark green and blue, their hair long and their skin tanned to a deep shade of cinnamon. Two of them were taller than their friends, with long, curly black hair and green-gray eyes framed by thick black lashes. Their expressions were rough, hardened, their gazes constantly checking the western horizon.

Two young Druids were bathing in the river, while the other two climbed the palm trees and started picking the fruit—bright pink globes that hung in clusters. The taller Druids kept watch, spears in their hands. They all looked slightly more mature, but the difference barely meant anything in Druid years.

There was a general feeling of angst floating among them, especially between the dark-haired males, who occasionally glanced at each other and sighed. One of them noticed the exchange from his spot in the palm tree, and rolled his eyes as he let a few succulent pink globes fall into a wicker basket on the ground.

“If you really want to see what’s on the western shore, you’re free to go,” he said, picking another fruit.

The dark-haired Druids looked up at him.

“And leave you, Ori, Cassin, and Dain on your own here? That doesn’t sound very cautious, Malachy,” one of them said.

“Well, we’ve been here for so long, I don’t blame you if you’re bored, Flynn,” Malachy replied. “I’d come with you, but we need to prepare food supplies for the next sandstorm.”

“You shouldn’t, anyway,” Flynn said. “Mason and I are fine here.”

“You should go check out the shore, though,” one of the Druids bathing in the river said. “I am curious to see what you can observe from there. I wonder if Azazel is still in power…”

Sadness made his eyes flicker black before he washed his face and neck.

“I’m not comfortable with leaving you here, unprotected,” Mason replied.

“Well, it’s not like we’re defenseless,” the Druid identified as Ori smirked. “We’re not wounded or anything.”

A moment passed before Malachy spoke again.

“Maybe tomorrow, when the sun comes up,” he said.

“Do you think you’ll find some sign from Jasmine?” Ori asked.

“I don’t think so.” Malachy shook his head. “We haven’t seen her in decades. She may very well be dead.”

They’d grown strong and resilient, from what I could tell. Taken from everything they’d known at such a young age, and dumped into a desert on another planet. And yet they’d made it their home. Draven was going to be very pleased with the news. I wondered if they’d be eager to join our alliance.

I felt a smile stretching my lips. At least they were still alive and well. It was a good starting point.

But what about Jasmine? Had she died trying to protect them?

* * *

My next vision took me deep inside a jungle. Judging by the plethora of giant purple trees and shifters growling somewhere in the distance, I was back on Antara. I stood in the middle of a narrow path, with no one else around.

I heard movement somewhere below and looked down. I let out a short, high-pitched scream, startled as I jumped back at the sight of a large cobra with dark green scales and patches of bright yellow on its underbelly. It slithered along the path, its forked tongue flitting out and catching the scents of creatures nearby.

Branches broke behind me. The cobra vanished to the side, in the tall grass, as four succubi ran past me in a flashing sprint. They wore tanned leather garments and stripes of white paint on their faces, arms, and backs. They carried crossbows, swords, and slim shields on their backs, as they hurried down the path, then took a sharp turn into the dark woods.

The white paint reminded me of what I’d recently learned about the succubi and their color-coded tribes. Anjani had said the White Tribe had vanished without a trace and that no one had seen them since.

“Not to be presumptuous here, but I think I just saw four of them,” I muttered, then moved to follow them.

The dark green cobra poked its head out from the grass and slithered ahead. It seemed to be going in the same direction as the succubi, and we both took the sharp turn into the forest. I saw the four succubi run toward a massive slab of gray limestone hidden behind thick purple trees, then vanish into it. The snake darted after them, managing to enter while the stone surface still rippled.

“Aha! Swamp witch cloaking spell,” I concluded like a good detective from a nineteenth century mystery novel. “Thank the stars no one can hear me…”

I ran after them and passed through the barrier like the ghost I was, and found myself stunned by the sight of a small, thriving succubi settlement with fur-covered yurts built around a white marble villa-type residence. There were at least three dozen succubi there, all of them wearing white paint on their bodies.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I think I’ve just found the White Tribe,” I muttered as I walked between the tents toward the white marble villa. Its walls were smooth, polished to perfection, and its straight lines opened into a spacious terrace, adorned with wild floral arrangements in yellow and pink and garlands wrapped around the square columns. The house had been built on top of an unpolished chunk of white marble, and the narrow steps leading to the open terrace had been carved into it.

The villa seemed like an eerie presence in the middle of this wilderness, skirted by small camp fires. I looked above and saw the night sky glimmering—the cloaking spell had a tall dome shape, with a diameter of half a mile, at most.

The dark green cobra disappeared somewhere behind a bush, its head poking out to get a better look as it watched the four succubi we’d first seen. It morphed into Kyana, much to my surprise, keeping a low profile in the shrubbery.

“Glad to see you’ve made it this far,” I quipped, already eager to let Vita know Kyana had gotten out and was far from Luceria.

But was she, though? I didn’t even know where we were, exactly. How far had Kyana gotten over the course of one day, in snake form?

My attention was drawn back to the succubi. They stopped at the bottom of the white marble stairs, dropping to one knee with their heads down, and tapping their sheathed swords into the hard ground in front of them—I found the rhythmic “tap, tap, tap” interesting, so I got closer.

A female emerged from the villa, stopping at the top of the stairs. She was tall and beautiful, with gray eyes, long, sand-colored hair caught in a bun, a Cupid’s bow mouth, and sharp cheeks I’d seen before. She wore a loose, white silk dress that covered everything from the neck down—with the exception of her bare arms, covered in ring tattoos from her wrists to just below her shoulders.

She was a Druid, and she looked too familiar for it to be a random coincidence.

There are still Druids in Antara?

Judging by the number of black rings on her arms, she wasn’t a Master Druid, but she’d made it pretty high up in the ranks. I would’ve stopped to count the tattoos and assess an exact level, but the four succubi said something that was even more interesting.

“We bring bad news,” one of them announced, her head down.

“Is Draven well?” the Druid asked.

What?!

I felt my brows pull into a deep frown as I listened quietly.

“The mansion was surrounded by Destroyers several nights ago,” the succubus replied. “They were discovered by Azazel but could not get in.”

The Druid gasped, her eyes wide with genuine fear.

“They were safe beneath its protective shield,” the succubus continued. “Two nights ago, however, they got out in organized teams to distract the Destroyers, while Draven and his companions fled in four different directions. We couldn’t follow, as there were too many hostiles in the surrounding area and we couldn’t risk it. I apologize for that, Mistress Jasmine.”

It was my turn to gasp. The female Druid was Jasmine, Draven’s aunt. She wasn’t dead after all.

“That’s understandable, Mairi,” Jasmine replied with a sigh. “Did you see where Draven went, though?”

“He headed east with a female companion, the one with black hair and blue eyes, not of this world,” Mairi said. “They used indigo horses. I doubt the Destroyers could keep up.”

“Blessed be the Dearghs, then, for giving them those horses.” Jasmine nodded.

I was stunned, a thousand questions racing through my mind, all at once. Jasmine had been around this whole time, hidden beneath this cloaking spell with the White Tribe. Watching.

How did she know about Draven? I’d thought no one knew about him, that everyone believed him to have died with his mother at birth. How long had she known about him and the mansion? Why had she never reached out?

I shook the thoughts away to focus on the conversation. I was bound to get my answers later.

“That wasn’t the bad news, Mistress Jasmine,” Mairi said in a low voice. “Last night, the protective shield came down. We watched it crumble into a rain of golden sparks, the mansion and its surrounding gardens revealed. Those still beneath it were left in the open, surrounded by Destroyers.”

“Oh dear,” Jasmine croaked, leaning against the white marble balustrade of the terrace.

“There were seven of them still there. Three not from this world, three succubi of the Red Tribe, and a Lamia,” Mairi continued. “They took advantage of the Destroyers’ understandable befuddlement by running into the house first. Our guess is they grabbed whatever they could from inside before they made a run for the east. Again, we were unable to follow them for too long. There were too many hostiles.”

“What about the Daughter?” A muscle in Jasmine’s jaw twitched, and I could see the same anger I’d felt toward the Daughters darkening her face.

She knew about the Daughter, too!

“She wasn’t there, Mistress Jasmine.” Mairi shook her head. “There is something else you should know, though.”

“Go on…”

“During their diversion, we saw the Daughter come out from the shield and approach a pack of shifters that had cornered one of their youngling succubi. She did something to them, but I don’t know exactly how to describe it. I’d say she fundamentally changed their behavior. Their eyes glowed violet, and they suddenly became very protective of those beneath the shield, including the succubus they’d first attacked. Some took on the Destroyers coming after them, and even killed one. I have a feeling that whatever she did to the shifters, it amplified their strength and their natural poison. Six of them were left after that scuffle.”

“It means the Daughter is slowly coming into her own,” Jasmine concluded. “And her sisters decided to take her away, removing the protective shield in the process. That is the thanks my nephew got for keeping the Daughter safe all these years…”

She scoffed, visibly disgusted.

“We managed to follow the group for a couple of miles. It may not bring you much comfort, but you should know that the six affected shifters went with them, and protected them from the Destroyers. We saw them kill several before disappearing into the woods, going farther east,” Mairi replied. “I’m inclined to believe, or at least hold out hope, that they survived, thanks to those shifters.”

“It does bring me an ounce of comfort, thank you, Mairi. So you said Draven headed east as well?”

“Yes, Mistress Jasmine.”

“He must have found something on the east coast. There’s nothing of use on that side of Antara, besides the shore and the derelict harbors…”

Her voice trailed off as her expression brightened, the corner of her mouth twitching.

“I know where they went,” she mumbled. “I know what he’s doing! All these trips to Mount Inon, the River Pyros, now the east…”

The succubi were quiet, but all four lifted their heads to look at her. She placed her hands on her hips, nodding with newfound satisfaction.

“He’s building an alliance,” she said. “He’s reaching out to the Dearghs, the Lamias, the Red Tribe. And now he’s headed east.”

“Three of his group took indigo horses toward the northwest, during the diversion. There was a Mara with them” Mairi added.

“The Tritones, I’m guessing, and they must have been riding toward White City. The Maras are clearly on board.” Jasmine grinned.

“What about the east, Mistress Jasmine? What’s there?”

“Stonewall, my darlings.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Before he passed away, my brother was kind enough to help resettle a pack of Bajangs in Stonewall, hidden beneath a cloaking spell like ours. My guess is that Draven finally decided to reach out to them. Surely Almus must have told him about the citadel. This is it!”

She paced the terrace from left to right several times, rubbing her chin with one hand as she processed the information. I still couldn’t believe she’d been here all along, watching Draven without ever reaching out to him. What had she been doing?

“This is it, my darlings,” Jasmine finally repeated, looking at the succubi. “The war we’ve all been waiting for is finally coming. Draven, son of Almus and Genevieve, is bringing the free nations together. My guess is they’re organizing some kind of meeting at Stonewall. It’s secluded enough to hold such an event.”

“What do we do, then, Mistress Jasmine?” Mairi asked.

“Send one scout to Stonewall. Just one. You want her to be as inconspicuous as possible. Have her keep watch, as they’re all bound to meet over the next few days. Now that the mansion is revealed and the Oracles are no longer hidden, Azazel will be making a move. Once she has gathered enough information, I will make a decision and inform you all. In the meantime, get a group ready, there’s valuable information in that mansion and Azazel will want it. Draven’s identity must be protected for as long as possible. You know what you have to do…”

Mairi gave her a firm nod and whistled to several succubi behind her.

“Oh, come on, you know about us too?!” I finally burst, though no one could hear me.

What else did she know?

I wanted to stick around, but, as usual, my vision ended arbitrarily. Darkness enveloped me, and I cursed under my breath, bracing myself for the third one.

* * *

As the image before me clarified into the black marble and limestone platform on top of Azazel’s castle, my chest constricted.

“Oh, crap,” I muttered, nervously looking around.

The three Oracles were still there, trapped in their glass bubbles. Abrille was the only one conscious. The other two had their eyes closed, looking pale, almost lifeless.

Night had fallen over Luceria as well, the indigo sky above sprinkled with millions of stars, a round moon casting its milky light over the land. It made the liquid in Abrille’s glass sphere glimmer slightly in a peculiar green, as she floated with her white eyes open and runes flitting across her skin.

Patrik emerged from below, occasionally looking over his shoulder. I had a feeling he’d snuck up without anyone knowing. He stopped in front of Abrille, placing his hand on the glass.

“Abrille, are you awake?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

The Nevertide Oracle moved her head slightly, as if reacting to his presence.

“Can you look into the present and tell me if Kyana is safe?” Patrik continued, biting into his lower lip.

Abrille shrugged before she looked away. Patrik sighed and took a step back.

“Silly of me to try,” he mumbled.

I felt sorry for him. He was obviously worried about his love. I figured then that I could very well reach out to Vita and let her know I’d seen Kyana alive and well, so she could soothe his concern.

I then turned around, and the blood instantly left my body. I yelped as I took a step back, ice shards shooting down my spine. Azazel stood in front of me, a grin slitting his face and the snake pendant quietly moving against his chest, its ruby eyes sparkling in the night. He had his hands behind his back, and he was watching me with childish delight.

Patrik sensed his presence and turned, unable to hide his surprise.

“Azazel,” he muttered.

“How are you, my darling?” Azazel asked me, sneering.

“Wake up, wake up,” I whispered to myself, my heart thumping.

The image before me began to fade, but Azazel snapped his fingers and it all came back into focus. I couldn’t wake up.

“Oh, come on!” I growled, balling my fists.

I hated the helplessness that came over me in his presence. I moved farther back instead.

“Not so fast, little one,” he hissed. “So nice of you to come visit! It’s been a while. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.”

“What person in their right mind wouldn’t want to avoid you? Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?” I shot back, my blood boiling through my veins.

“Milord, I wasn’t… Little one?” Patrik mumbled, visibly confused. He couldn’t see or hear me, so it probably looked like Azazel was addressing him in the strangest of terms.

He raised a hand to silence Patrik, who bowed his head respectfully.

“It’s a pleasure to feel you and the other one still out there,” Azazel said. “I’ll be coming for you both soon enough, my darling.”

“I don’t know why you’re still gloating, you disgusting piece of trash,” I replied through gritted teeth. “You know you’re going to die. And I’ll be there to make sure you die a slow and painful death.”

Azazel chuckled, his fingers instinctively touching the pendant in a reassuring gesture. I’d definitely hit a nerve, since Vita had told him he’d fail.

“Whatever the future shows, it can be prevented,” he hissed. “I will simply have to go to greater lengths to secure my dominion, that is all.”

“You’re delusional, Azazel. We’ll tear it all down, brick by brick. And I’ll have the honor of nailing your coffin.”

“Worry not, little one, I will come for you soon. I will come for the both of you. I’ve got your suites all ready.” He grinned again, and pointed at three empty glass bubbles hung beneath an archway behind Abrille. “Let the others know I will not tolerate defiance and mutiny. Their heads will fall.”

His eyes flickered green as he snapped his fingers, and I suddenly felt a bone-crushing weight removed from my chest. My body felt light as darkness once again enveloped me. He’d set me free, but not without a message for us all.

He was coming for us.