Clutching the silent tracking spell, Clio waited for the signal to return. If it didn’t reactivate, how would she find Lyre?

Throughout the reception hall, voices buzzed and advisors, messengers, and guards rushed around. Rouvin was barking orders, so focused on locating his missing son that he’d barely glanced her way when the tracking spell went off.

Why had it gone off? Why was Lyre so far from the garden storeroom? Her shaking hand tightened on the stone. If the palace guards had captured him, they would have brought him inside, not taken him away.

Why had the signal stopped?

“Lady Clio.”

She looked up. The nymph guard who’d been holding the tracking spell watched her warily.

“What is that spell?” he asked. “Why did it activate?”

She glanced at her tightly closed fist, the gem hidden in her grip.

“Were you signaling someone?” His voice hardened with suspicion. “Do you have someone waiting at the ley line?”

Her head snapped up. “Ley line?”

“I felt the signal,” he said, his tone suggesting he thought she was playing dumb. “The only thing in that direction besides wilderness is the North Road and the White Rock ley line.”

A ley line. There was a ley line north of here. She stared at the guard, her mouth hanging open. If Lyre had gone through a ley line, that would explain why the tracking spell had cut off. It couldn’t signal his location if he wasn’t in the same realm as her.

“Your Majesty.” A guard knelt before the king. “We’ve expanded the search into the city. Prince Bastian appears to have left the grounds.”

Rouvin folded his arms. “You found no indications of where he’s gone? Are we certain he left under his own power?”

“His guards are also missing,” the chimera replied. “I assume they’re with him. We found no indications of where he might have gone, but there are signs of a disturbance in the east garden.”

Clio’s lungs seized.

“What kind of disturbance?” Rouvin asked.

“The storage room door was open and there were footprints in the dirt and signs of a struggle. We don’t know if it’s related.”

“Find out,” the king commanded, and the daemon saluted.

Clio stared blankly at the chaotic bustling. A disturbance in the garden where she’d left Lyre. Signs of a struggle. Lyre activating his tracking spell and heading toward a ley line he shouldn’t know existed.

Bastian missing. His guards with him. Gone from the palace grounds. Signs of a struggle.

It was too much of a coincidence.

What were the chances that Bastian knew she hadn’t arrived alone? Hundreds of nymphs in town had seen Lyre’s golden aura and the strange spells he carried. She’d thought she’d have time to talk to the king and Bastian before rumors of a mysterious visitor reached the palace.

She looked at the king, tall and commanding amidst his people, then turned around. With purposeful steps, she walked away. In the bustle of soldiers and messengers, Rouvin didn’t glance in her direction. Everyone was focused on their tasks, too busy with their orders and searching for the crown prince to worry about the princess’s long-lost lady-in-waiting. Everyone except—

“Where are you going?”

The persistent nymph guard trotted after her.

“I need to check on something,” she answered through clenched teeth.

“On what?”

She marched faster. As she headed out of the reception hall and into a long corridor, he swung in front of her, forcing her to a stop. “You don’t have permission to—”

She flicked her fingers. Her binding spell was so fast he only had time to gasp before it immobilized him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m leaving. Tell the king … tell him I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Stepping around the frozen guard, she broke into a run. Her nymph swiftness carried her through the familiar halls in a flash and she burst out of a side door. She’d lived at the palace for over three years and knew how to avoid the guards. In only a few minutes, she had hopped the outer wall and was pounding down a path.

She’d never traveled on the North Road before, and if not for the signpost, she would have run right by it. She’d expected an actual road, but it was scarcely more than a worn track through the grass that branched off from a city avenue. She launched down the trail, hoping the ley line wouldn’t be difficult to find.

She wished she was leaving with her father’s blessing and the assistance of the palace guard, but she couldn’t risk it. She had to do this alone.

Sabir had shown her how other daemons, even Overworlders, could react to a rare master weaver. If she told Rouvin about Lyre, he might decide the incubus was a tool, a bartering chip, a spy, or a criminal. Rouvin hadn’t known about Bastian’s lies, which meant he didn’t know Bastian had sent her into the Underworld.

She ran on, long grass whipping at her arms, the trail nearly invisible. The enormous guardian trees petered out, replaced by smaller ones with needle-like leaves that were more suited to the rocky terrain and cool mountain weather. The road wound among crystal-veined outcrops and colossal boulders from ancient rockfalls, and soon the grass disappeared until she was jogging across a trail of fine gravel.

Even as her feet pounded the ground, she knew this was a fool’s mission. Ley line travel was untraceable. Bastian could have taken Lyre anywhere.

But if he had left the palace, it was because he didn’t want anyone to know about Lyre. They weren’t in Irida—she would have sensed the tracking spell if it was that close—and going to another Overworld territory would risk the attention of another caste or ruling family. Which meant he’d probably gone to Earth.

Brinford was the only human city she’d been to, and the only daemon-friendly one she was familiar with, so that’s where she’d start. As long as Lyre kept his tracking spell active, she could find him.

What she’d do once she reached him … that she wasn’t sure about.

She needn’t have worried about missing the ley line. It was easy to find—protected by a troop of nymph and chimera soldiers, positioned in an open valley, with the ley line running through a gully at the end.

She stopped on the trail and scanned the valley, but there was no way to sneak up on the line. Leaving the road, she trotted down the slope. The soldiers watched her come, and a pair of nymphs broke off from the wooden shelters where the rest were positioned.

“Lady Clio?” The nymph frowned at her. “I hadn’t heard you were back. This ley line is restricted. What are you doing here?”

“I’m following Prince Bastian’s instructions. I need to go through the line.”

His frown deepened. “He didn’t mention you.”

So Bastian had gone through this line. She lifted her chin. “Why else would I be here? I need to catch up with him. It’s urgent.”

The nymph exchanged a look with his comrade, then shrugged. “Go ahead, then, but make sure to return with His Highness.”

With a nervous nod of thanks, she approached the ley line. At a fast jog, it had taken her almost an hour to reach this spot. Bastian and his men must have captured Lyre almost as soon as she’d left him and traveled to the ley line. She was so far behind.

Her stomach twisted. She had to get to Lyre. She was the only one who knew what had happened to him. No one else could save him.

No one else would even try.

The realization came on a wave of quiet grief. She was the only person who cared about him, who would fight to save his life. Besides her, there was just Reed, and he had already done all he could.

She was the only one. Lyre had no one else.

The burn in her lungs and the ache in her legs faded. Determination lit through her, and her hands clenched into fists. She would not fail him. She would be there for him.

She stepped into the ley line.

* * *

The moment she stepped out of the line, she felt it: the pulse of the tracking spell. A beacon in her mind summoned her onward, calling her to follow.

She stumbled away from the ribbon of blue and green light and gathered her bearings. Though it was early dusk in the Overworld, on Earth, it was already dark. The stars glimmered in a clear sky and the three-quarter moon illuminated the scrubby forest that surrounded the ley line.

The tracking spell beat in her head, telling her which way to go.

She shoved through the underbrush, ignoring the thorns scraping across her exposed skin. Ahead, an old highway peeked through the foliage; she’d last traveled that road with Sabir on their way to the line a few days ago.

As she broke into a steady jog, timing her pace with the pulse of the tracking spell, her mind raced ahead. Bastian had brought Lyre to Brinford. She hadn’t wanted to hope it would be this simple, but it made sense. Brinford was the human city Bastian was most familiar with. He’d been visiting it at least once a month for two years.

Bastian had lied. The sick realization had hovered in her mind since her talk with the king, underscoring every thought. Bastian had lied about everything. Why? Why had he tricked her into leaving Irida? Why had he convinced her their homeland was in danger and sent her to investigate Ra spell commissions? Why had he asked her to steal warfare spellcraft from Chrysalis?

Why?

No matter how she twisted and wrangled the questions, she found no answers. She didn’t know where the truth ended and his lies began. With each question that spun through her head, the numb shield of disbelief cracked. Beneath it, pain waited—and beneath the pain, fury simmered, its heat growing swiftly.

Her legs burned and her throat ached from thirst, but she didn’t slow. She had to catch up. She had to find Lyre and stop Bastian from … from whatever he intended to do.

In the distance, a smattering of white and yellow lights glittered among the blanket of darkness: Brinford. The tracking spell called her onward. It was so pervasive she almost missed the second, softer beat of another spell—the beacon that marked a Consulate.

She hesitated, slowing to a walk. The last time she and Lyre had been there, they’d stolen the Consulate’s car. Had the Consulate recovered their vehicle?

Making a snap decision, she rushed down the long drive. The elegant manor came into view, its front lights glowing welcomingly. Ignoring the front drive, she cut through the trees to the hidden garage and narrow back driveway. A bolt of magic snapped the lock on the door and she flung it open to reveal the pitch black interior.

She cast a light spell and the green glow washed over the dull paint of a gray sedan parked in the center of the garage. Old, rusting, and far more beaten than the car she and Lyre had stolen, but it was a car nonetheless.

She pulled the vehicle’s door open and a musty smell wafted out. Dropping into the driver’s seat, she pawed at the various nooks and crannies where the keys might be hiding. Last time, Lyre had hot-wired the car—an unexpected skill she’d meant to ask him about—but she had no idea how to do the same. She needed the key.

She searched the car, finding nothing, then scoured the garage. Swearing under her breath, she considered how long it would take her to find the keys. Every wasted minute felt like a risk, but the time she lost here could be made up by driving into the city. At any moment, the tracking spell could disappear and she might never find Lyre again.

She shimmered into her human glamour so as not to draw too much attention, then raced through the trees to the back of the property. Cracking the back door open, she entered the gourmet kitchen where she’d cooked pancakes. It was empty and lit only by the lights under the cabinets. She hurriedly poured a glass of water and drank, her thoughts consumed with the question of where the Consuls would keep the keys to their vehicles. Not anywhere a daemon could stumble upon them.

After downing two glasses of water, she tiptoed across the kitchen and into the corridor, listening for any signs of life. The building was quiet except for the rumble of voices and the tinny crackle of a radio emanating from the basement.

Stopping in front of a door, she pressed her ear to it. No sound on the other side. A crude lock spell glowed across the wood and she dissolved it before trying the handle. It jiggled but wouldn’t turn, physically locked.

Adding a magical boost, she shoved down on the handle. The lock snapped with a loud crack and she froze. No change in the rumbling conversation downstairs.

Pushing the door open, she rushed into an office dominated by a large mahogany desk. Despite the opulence of the woodworking, the room was cold and businesslike, the desktop empty, and the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with bland leather spines.

She jumped over the desk and grabbed the first drawer. Locked. She used magic to break it open and rifled through the contents, finding nothing resembling keys. She broke open the next drawer and dug through it, dumping folders of paper on the floor in her haste.

“Damn it,” she hissed as she broke into the third and final drawer. Boxes of envelopes, paperclips, and other office supplies. She flung them onto the floor and sifted through the pile. Nothing.

“What the hell are you—”

Clio shot to her feet. The young apprentice girl stood in the threshold, one hand on the door. Her furious glower morphed into surprise.

“Clio?”

“Piper?”

“What are you doing?” Piper demanded. “This is the Head Consul’s office! You’ll be blacklisted for this.”

“I don’t care. This is urgent.”

“What’s urgent?” Piper pointed accusingly. “You and that incubus stole my father’s car when you left, didn’t you? When did you come back?”

“Just now.” Clio clenched her jaw. “Piper, I need another car.”

“What? You already stole our good one! How can you even—”

“I need it!” Her voice went higher as the frantic need to move, to keep going, to reach Lyre before she lost him pounded through her head. “I don’t have a choice.”

Piper blinked, her anger subsiding. She lowered her hand from the door but didn’t move from the threshold, blocking Clio’s path. “What’s going on? What’s so urgent?”

“My friend—the incubus—he’s been captured.”

“Captured?” Piper’s green eyes widened. “By who?”

“I can’t tell you, but his life is in danger. I have to reach him before—before it’s too late.”

Piper looked from Clio to the mess on the floor and back again. “He’s in that much danger?”

Clio nodded. “I have to get to him as fast as possible.”

“Where is he?”

“In the city. I’ve already lost too much time running from the ley line—”

“Running? You ran the whole way?” Piper’s gaze snapped over Clio from head to toe as though reassessing her. The girl shifted her weight, a furrow forming in her forehead. “Damn it. I’ll get grounded for a month for this.”

“For what?” Clio asked blankly.

“For helping you.” The girl’s hesitation vanished behind an excited grin. “Let’s rescue your incubus friend!”

Clio blinked. “Let’s rescue …?”

Piper marched across the room to the bookshelf, rose onto her tiptoes, and grabbed a thick volume from the top shelf. It jingled as she flipped the cover open. The interior was hollowed out, and inside it sat several sets of keys.

Piper lifted out a key chain, shut the book, and replaced it on the shelf. “Let’s go!”

“But—but Piper, I can’t take you with me.” Clio rushed after her toward the door. “It’s too dangerous for—”

“You’re not stealing our only other car,” Piper said, waving the keys over her shoulder as she strode into the hall. “I’m going with you.”

Clio bit her lip, then raised her hand at Piper’s back. The binding spell hit with a flash and Piper pitched forward, landing with a loud thud. The keys skittered across the floor.

“Hey!” Piper yelled. “What are you doing?”

“I can’t let you come.” Clio stepped over the girl and grabbed the keys. “I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous.”

“I can help!”

“No, you can’t. You don’t understand.”

“Wait!” Piper squirmed, furiously trying to free herself. “Do you even know how to drive?”

Clio hesitated, biting her lip. “It doesn’t look that difficult.”

Piper’s eyes bulged. “You’ll wreck our car! Let me do it.”

“You know how to drive?”

“My uncle taught me.”

Clio bounced from foot to foot, anxious to keep moving. How much time would she lose figuring out how to operate the car? She hadn’t paid all that much attention when Lyre had driven them into the city before.

Whirling back around, she crouched in front of Piper. “You can drive me, but once we get there, you’ll drop me off, turn around, and come right back here. Agreed?”

Piper grimaced. “Agreed.”

Clio touched the girl’s arm and the binding spell dissolved.

Piper popped back up and bounded ahead of Clio, leading the way to the kitchen. “I’m going to kick your butt later for putting a binding spell on me.”

“You can try,” Clio muttered. Piper might have better hand-to-hand combat skills, but Clio could out-spell the girl in her sleep. Based on the girl’s strange aura, she didn’t have enough magic to cast anything, let alone defend herself.

In the garage, Piper wrestled the overhead door open, then jumped into the driver’s seat, grinning the whole time. For the girl, this was a grand adventure—a daring rescue mission to save a handsome incubus.

As Clio climbed into the passenger seat, sending up a cloud of musty dust from the upholstery, she wished she could feel that kind of innocent excitement. But this journey wasn’t an adventure for her or for Lyre. She wasn’t sure what it was, but as Piper revved the engine and the car peeled out of the garage, Clio couldn’t shake her growing dread.

She loved her brother. She was sure he cared about her too, and no matter what happened, she shouldn’t be afraid of him. But deep in her heart, icy fear pulsed in time with the tracking spell.

Cherished sibling or not, she couldn’t trust Bastian, not with Lyre’s life … or her own.

This wasn’t an adventure. This wasn’t a rescue mission. It was a life-or-death confrontation with a daemon who had the power to destroy everything that mattered to her.