Queen Gianne departed as soon as the ceremony was over, while Aurelius whisked his new bride away, bundling her into a waiting ship and disappearing into the night. Seraphina didn’t struggle against him but accepted her fate with all the grace she possessed, stoic to the bitter end. I watched the ship go from the steps of the chapel, wishing there was more I could do. Judging by the look on Navan’s face, he felt the same.

“Come on,” he muttered. “I think it’s time I paid my father a visit.”

I reached for his hand, pulling him back. “What about the pickup?”

“Yeah, they should be here within the hour,” Ronad chimed in, brandishing the black box device that he’d brought from the cottage. A dialogue screen had pinged up, and though I couldn’t read it, I knew it was from the seller. Navan was clearly angry, but we had a package to collect.

He pulled a face. “Forget the pickup. We can rearrange.”

“You know what darkstar sellers are like, Navan. They’ll just give it to the next bidder,” Ronad replied.

“Fine, then they give it to the next bidder,” he snapped. “Right now, I couldn’t give a damn about a suit of armor pieced together from a load of dead guys. I need to speak to my father!”

I moved in front of him, forcing him to look at me. “We can visit him after we’ve made the pickup. What difference can an hour make now?”

“It will make all the difference to me,” he murmured, his chin sinking to his chest.

“And if we lose the armor?” I pressed.

“We’ll browse through the darkstar market again, until we can find something they’ll like just as much. I doubt it’ll be too hard.”

I flashed a worried look at Ronad, who offered a reluctant shrug in reply. There was nothing Navan could do to help Seraphina now—she was a married woman. Still, I could understand the desire for revenge. Someone had to pay for what had happened today, and it was obvious where Navan’s wrath was aimed. Only one person could have signed that document, since it would’ve been hard for Aurelius to forge a fingerprint.

“Then I guess we’re visiting the Regium dungeons,” I conceded, lifting his chin.

“You mean it?”

I nodded. “Come on, let’s get going before anyone notices we’ve left.”

Casting an anxious look over my shoulder, I realized nobody was concerned about us. Not a single soul was watching as we stood in the doorway; they were all too consumed by their own needs. The Idrax brothers were clustered around their mother, fanning her and trying to bring some vitality back to her limp frame. Evidently, the shock of what had happened had been too much for Lorela, sending her back over the edge of mental instability. Meanwhile, Seraphina’s parents were parading around the place, enjoying the congratulations of those who had lingered. By all accounts, there would be a party at their house and everyone was invited, though I doubted those invitations would extend to the snubbed ex-groom, a former coldblood, and a foreign pet.

Without pausing to say a single goodbye, we hurried out of the chapel and headed for the patch of grass where everyone had parked their vehicles. As we ran, Ronad cast a longing glance at the purple orb beneath the blood-red fronds of the willow.

“We’ll come back for her soon,” I promised.

“It’s okay,” he replied, pressing a hand to his heart. “She’s always here. I don’t need to see her hologram to remember the woman I love. It’s just a nice reminder, sometimes.”

Navan skidded to a halt in front of the vessel he’d come to the wedding in, only to realize that we didn’t have a way of opening it. He slammed his hand against the hatch panel, but it just gave a sad beep. The chauffeur was still inside the chapel, and Kaido’s ship would be locked, too.

“Are you looking to journey home?” a voice asked in the darkness.

“Kaido, is that you?” I asked.

He stepped out of the shadows, wielding a small silver disc. “I thought you might be eager to return to the cottage when I saw you rush out of the chapel without saying a word. I realize how utterly mortifying this must be for you, Navan. That was a very public humiliation. You have my sincerest condolences.”

I gripped Navan’s wrist, holding him back. “He doesn’t mean anything by it,” I whispered.

“Anyway, I thought I would offer you the key to my ship, so you might take it back to the cottage and hide there until the embarrassment eases. I will join you there soon, but Mother must be returned to the hospital, and I was the only one who volunteered to go in the ambulance with her,” Kaido explained. “Do not drive my ship too recklessly. I still have several plants that are averse to sudden movements in the cargo hold.”

“Thank you, Kaido. I will be sure to drive safely,” Navan said stiffly, as he took the offered disc out of Kaido’s hands.

He smiled, pleased with himself. “I can concoct some Elysium for you, if you wish.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Navan grimaced, his mouth set in a grim line.

“That is likely a wise option,” Kaido mused. “Memory serums are not my forte, and they are temperamental at best. You might end up losing years instead of hours!” Chuckling to himself, he blended back into the shadows, returning to Lorela and the rest of the Idrax clan. I felt sorry for him, knowing he was only caring for Lorela because of what he felt he “owed” her, even now. Surely, it was time one of the other Idrax brothers stepped up to the plate?

“How come nobody else looks after your mother?” I asked, as we headed for Kaido’s ship.

Navan gave a wry laugh. “They’ve gained everything they can from her. She gave birth to them, raised them, watched them fly the nest. Now that they’re no longer at home, she isn’t their concern anymore. Jareth still offers money and reputation, which is why they’ll never stop pandering for his attention, but my mother serves no purpose to them.”

I didn’t have any particularly good feelings toward Lorela, but it still seemed tragic that the rest of her children had all but abandoned her. Kaido was the only exception, yet she didn’t even view him as one of her own.

“That’s so sad,” I said.

Ronad shook his head. “No, that’s Vysanthe.”

After reaching Kaido’s ship, we clambered aboard, Navan taking up his position in the cockpit. A moment later, with the silver disc in place and the coordinates typed in, the ship rose, and we left the soft glow of the chapel behind us.

I caught sight of another building, not far from the chapel. Its ramshackle roof was barely visible in the silvery glow of the moonlight. I guessed it was the groundskeeper’s hut, where Navan had instructed the darkstar seller to bring the item so we could make the exchange. I had a bad feeling about leaving without the item we’d come for. But there was no way I could persuade Navan to turn around now.

* * *

Forty minutes later, we arrived at the mountain range that encircled Regium. I’d expected Navan to set the ship down somewhere outside it, or even within the city’s natural walls, but instead the vessel rose, surging through the clouds.

A spinning glass station appeared in the sky, turning slowly. I realized that an image of the skyscape had been projected onto the underside of the building, to keep it hidden from sight. Through the glass panels, hunched figures pressed against the outer panes, their eyes staring mournfully out at an endless sky. A few stood as we passed, banging their fists against the glass, their mouths open in silent screams.

“Are these the dungeons?” I gasped.

Ronad peered over my shoulder. “Doesn’t look too shabby for a prison, right?”

“Why have it way up here? Can’t they just escape and fly away?”

Ronad shook his head. “Not all the prisoners here are Vysanthean, and those that are—they clip their wings with metal clamps, to stop them from breaking out. It’s easier to keep them up here, out of sight of the ‘good’ civilians below.”

I was about to ask more when the ship began to descend, heading for a flat expanse of metal jutting from the side of the spinning circle. It landed with a jolt, and I braced myself against the curved walls. Up ahead, armed guards stood in front of a heavy door, their pikes crossed, their faces streaked with black and red.

As the cockpit door opened, I stared in disbelief at Navan, who stepped out shirtless, halfway through strapping his injured wing to his side while he tucked the other one away. Now that he had the artificial attachment, the injured wing no longer slid under his shoulder blades, unless he removed the fixture first. Knowing he might need to fly at a moment’s notice, he had taken to binding it instead. With that done, he slid two blades into the bandages, then threw his suit jacket back on and buttoned up the front.

“You two still have your weapons, right?” he asked casually.

“You can’t be serious,” I replied, aghast. “You want us to fight our way into a prison?”

He grinned. “I’m not waiting around for them to let us in.”

With that, he punched the button that opened the main hatch and strode down the gangway. Ronad and I exchanged a worried glance before hurrying after him. As we approached the glowering guards, I’d never been more conscious of having a gun strapped to one leg and a set of knives strapped to the other. It almost felt like they could see right through my dress, which definitely wasn’t fighting attire. Had I known there was going to be a brawl, I’d have changed.

“State your business,” one of the guards demanded.

“I am here at the behest of Queen Gianne, to speak with Jareth Idrax. He signed a document, and the queen wishes to know when the prisoner signed it,” Navan explained.

The guard frowned. “We haven’t been told of any arrivals today.”

The other guard shoved him in the arm. “Why would anyone tell us? Everyone else is home with their families, cozy as can be, enjoying the ceasefire. Meanwhile, we’re standing here like idiots, running a skeleton crew.”

“Shut up!” the first guard snapped, glaring at his colleague. “For Rask’s sake, your mouth is going to get us in trouble one of these days!”

“Sadly, that day is today,” Navan said with a grin, and he punched the first guard hard in the face. He grabbed the second by the neck and slammed the side of his hand into a nerve, where his shoulder met his spine, rendering him temporarily unconscious. It was an Aksavdo move I knew well, though it only worked if you managed to take your victim by surprise. Judging by the still-shocked expression on the crumpled guard’s face, Navan had done just that.

While the first guard tried to scramble for the alarm, Navan gripped him around the waist and turned him upside down, slamming his head on the solid metal ground. For a moment, I thought I was back at home watching wrestling on cable TV, but this was very real. The guard’s skull thudded as it hit the floor, and the vibration of it shivered through my legs. It sounded nasty, but it wasn’t an Aksavdo move that was intended to kill. Even so, I knew the poor guard would have one hell of a headache when he woke up.

“We’ve got to get them inside!” Navan urged, plucking an ID device from one of the guard’s pockets. He swiped it over the entrance panel, and the blast door slid open with a wheeze of heavy machinery. Beyond, a small foyer branched into two hallways, both curving to make either half of the spinning circle.

Navan took one of the guards while Ronad took the other. They dragged the two men down a wide, bright corridor into what looked like a holding pen, where prisoners were undoubtedly kept when they first arrived at the facility. After throwing the guards inside, Navan swiped the ID device over another glowing panel. The door swung shut, the lock sliding into place. They wouldn’t be bothering us for a while.

“Do you know where your father is?” I asked.

Navan shook his head. “No, but I’ve got a feeling this will tell me where the bastard is hiding.” He walked over to a screen on the wall and swiped the guard’s ID device across it, before typing in his father’s name. A moment later, it bleeped, revealing the whereabouts of Jareth Idrax. “This way!” he yelled, tearing down the hallway to the left.

From what I could tell, the slowly turning structure had four floors, and though the outer edge of the circle was made of glass, the interior circle was chrome, with the occasional glass panel. It meant the corridors would be blinding in the daytime, and fiercely hot, with the piercing light glancing from the metal into the cells that ran around the far side. I supposed it was some sort of punishment, the light and heat making it as uncomfortable as possible. Right now, the dark of night had made it cold, though strip lights illuminated the facility.

As we hurried down the hallway, I couldn’t quite see into the jail cells lining the wall to my left. A pane of frosted, reinforced glass separated the corridor from the prisoners, so all I could discern were shapes moving around inside. Occasionally, someone would bang on the pane, startling me, a muffled voice crying out for help. A shiver of unease ran up my spine.

We passed a few guards patrolling the floors, but they didn’t pay us much attention. Since we’d managed to get through the main doors and no alarms had gone off, I guessed they figured we were permitted visitors.

Ten minutes of jogging later, we arrived outside a cell on the top floor of the spinning prison. A strange figure was moving around inside, the frosted pane distorting the prisoner. Navan swiped his device across the control panel and pressed one of the flashing buttons that appeared. The frosted glass sheered out until it was entirely transparent.

Jareth Idrax turned in surprise, coming up to the pane of glass. “Have you come to break me out of here, my dear boy?” he asked, without a hint of sarcasm.

Navan glowered at his father. “You can turn to ash in this place, for all I care!” he snapped. “Why did you agree to annul the betrothal contract between me and Seraphina?”

“Why do you care?” Jareth countered, his hopeful expression quickly morphing into a sneer. “You never wanted to marry her. I did you a favor. You should be thanking me, not causing a scene.”

Ronad stepped forward, resting a comforting hand on Navan’s arm. “We thought you’d want to see your son married to a woman like Seraphina, regardless of his actual feelings toward her. Let’s not pretend that love has anything to do with marriage on this planet.”

“Ah, I see you brought the abomination with you,” Jareth remarked sourly. “I suppose you know, more than anyone, how things end when ‘love’—as you call it—gets brought into the equation.”

This time, it was Navan who had to hold Ronad back. “She wouldn’t have died if you hadn’t gotten involved! If you had left us alone, she’d still be alive right now.”

“Yes, but she’d be married to you,” Jareth spat. “I am not certain that is preferable.”

As Ronad lunged for the glass pane, I raised my voice. “We know about your plans with Aurelius. We know the two of you are working together!”

Everyone froze, turning to look at me.

“What did you say?” Jareth hissed.

“I said, we know about you and Aurelius. We know everything.”

He snorted. “You don’t know a thing, Riley. I will not be fooled by your trickery.”

I walked right up to the glass. “No tricks, Jareth. We unlocked your comm device—the one you got so pissed about. I might’ve told you to erase everything on it, so the queen wouldn’t find out the extent of your betrayal, but I read all of it—all of those sweet little poems you and Aurelius sent to each other. Something about twin blades… or was it a snake with two heads?”

He held my gaze through the pane, daring me to look away. I refused, standing my ground, letting him squirm. For once, we held the upper hand. At last, he stepped back, letting out a resentful sigh.

“Fine. Aurelius agreed to get me out of jail and back in Queen Gianne’s favor, in exchange for Seraphina,” he admitted begrudgingly. “He asked me to sign the document, knowing Gianne had forgotten to remove me from her appointed jury. I had no choice.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and reached under my skirt for the gun strapped to my thigh. “Open the door,” I instructed. “You had a choice, Jareth. You just made the wrong one.”

“You’re not going in without me,” Navan said, moving up to the control panel. “If he’s going to die, I want it to be by my hand.”

Ronad shoved Navan, knocking him to one side. “Neither of you is going in there!” he shouted. “Believe me, I have more reason than anyone to want him dead, but those who exact revenge always suffer a worse fate than the ones who receive it. I won’t see that happen to you. Let him rot—let that be his punishment.”

“But he won’t rot,” Navan spat. “He’ll worm his way out of it, same as he always does.”

“Maybe, but he’ll know to keep one eye looking over his shoulder because, if he slips up again, there’ll be no stopping us then,” Ronad assured him.

Navan slammed a fist against the glass. “You haven’t gotten away with this, Father. We will be watching,” he said. “And next time, Ronad might not be here to talk sense into me.”

Jareth chuckled. “I would never have expected you to be the one who saved my neck, Ronad.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a one-time thing,” Ronad replied. “Come on, we should probably get out of this place before those guards wake up.”

I took Navan by the hand and pulled him away from the glass, but it seemed Jareth wasn’t quite done.

“I have to say, Ronad, my daughter always knew what was best for her,” he said with surprising softness. “She knew far better than I did. It was a sixth sense that she had about people. Sometimes, she’d look at me as if she could see right through me, but I never dared ask what she saw.”

Ronad smiled tightly. “I imagine she saw exactly what you see in the mirror.”

With that, he turned and walked down the hallway, brushing past Navan and me. There was nothing in this universe that could patch up the damage between Ronad and Jareth. But hearing Jareth say that made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, he was finally acknowledging the fact that Ronad had loved Naya as much as he had—a tiny step in the right direction, from a man who could never fully make amends.

We’d just reached the holding pen where we’d left the two guards when I saw a weird version of Navan shoot out of a nearby door and hurtle around the bend, heading for the exit. Pools of pink flesh oozed through holes in his body.

“Mort!” I yelled.

The figure staggered to a halt. “Riley?”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, trying really hard not to look at the folds of skin poking through gaps in his disguise, in particularly unfortunate places. Not that his face was much better—the whole thing was slipping and sliding all over the place, with one eyeball down by his cheek and most of his nose creeping toward his jawline.

“And why do you look like me?” Navan barked, his expression horrified.

Mort shook his head, causing his lips to fall off. He caught them and tried to shove them back onto his face, though he missed his mouth by a good four inches. “Can’t talk now. I’ll explain everything in a bit. Right now, we need to get out of here!” he said, the words coming out garbled.

I grabbed him by the wrist, instantly regretting it. “Why are you in such a rush?”

“I’ve been found out, Riley!” he whispered, flapping his lipless mouth. “I need to cash in my side of the deal. I have to escape, ASAP!”

“Why?” I urged.

“The proverbial throat-tearer dung is about to hit the proverbial fan!” he hissed, dragging me toward the prison exit as his flesh oozed over my hand. The others followed, looking appalled. I wasn’t sure Navan would ever want to touch my hand again, after seeing that.

I rolled my eyes. “You need to stop with the vagueness, Mort! What the hell is going on?”

“It’s all about to go down in Northern Vysanthe! Gianne’s ships are poised and ready to strike, and when the retaliation comes, it is NOT going to be pretty!” he explained frantically. “I’m talking fountains of blood, limbs flying everywhere, and ash raining down like a volcano just went off!”

I shook my head, struggling to understand. “That’s not possible, Mort. Gianne announced a ceasefire for the wedding, and Brisha agreed to it. There’s some rule in the ‘big book of war’ that says it’s allowed. They have to abide by the terms of it.”

Mort laughed bitterly. “You think Gianne gives a hoot about what some book says? That stubborn wench does what she likes. She’s always played dirty, and right now she’s up to her creepy little eyeballs in muck. She’s even invited a star guest for the occasion!”

“What do you mean?” I murmured, stealing a glance at the others, who looked just as stunned. Even Navan, who’d spent most of his life in Gianne’s court, seemed shocked at the news that she was planning to break a ceasefire treaty.

“They always say there’s an evil twin, don’t they?” Mort mused.

“Mort!”

He lifted his gooey hands in apology. “She’s unleashing her secret weapon on Goody Two-shoes Brisha.”

“What is it? Can we stop it?” I asked desperately, knowing it would mean the death of countless innocents—not to mention the fact that my friends and Bashrik were still over there.

“Not what. Who.”

I grimaced, about ready to smack him. “Who, then?”

His mouth melted all the way down to his chest, but not before I heard what he said.

“The Titans.”