Raphael told me, Trap and the emperor everything—from their run-ins with the Cerixian mobs, coaxed by cultists into chasing them through the city, to their encounter with Cellos and the Brothers of the Shadow, the few hours they got to spend in the library, and, most importantly, the hell that was unleashed from the pink waters.

We understood that there was something about Lemnos Woods that jammed our communications. I went over all the scenarios that might have been possible, had I known that these… Shills were hunting them. Would I have been able to stop Inalia from having to sacrifice herself? Probably not. The crew produced the notes they’d managed to bring back from the original library, but there was nothing helpful there about replacing a Hermessi. The only solution, other than a mass evacuation, was her sacrifice.

Settled around a table, we were all on edge with Taeral gone. It was freezing cold inside the palace. That would soon be settled, thanks to Inalia’s incredible feat. At least we knew what the Hermessi were up to, manufacturing new monsters to hunt us down and take us out of the equation. It gave me the weirdest kind of hope. They knew something. The bastards knew something we didn’t; otherwise, I couldn’t, for the life of me, understand why they were so determined to get us.

Physically and mentally, I was exhausted. A considerable amount of my energy was going into the spell that kept Silvergate a few degrees above the others. But even that wasn’t going to work for much longer.

“If Inalia is going ahead with this, we should feel the fire come back, right?” Trap asked.

“Provided Taeral didn’t do something stupid,” the emperor replied.

“Your Majesty, please. We’ve been over this already. Taeral would never—” I didn’t get to finish my sentence, as flames burst vivaciously from all the candles and oil lamps in the room.

Amelia gasped. Glancing around, we could almost feel the temperature soften. The Fire Hermessi was back. Cerix had been saved. But at what cost?

The emperor smiled, then breathed a sigh of relief. “I must apologize for doubting you, or the Fire Star prince.”

“Your concern was understandable,” I replied, heat trickling through my veins as I released the spell I’d been holding over the city. All it took was scratching off parts of a symbol I’d drawn on a nearby side table, which kept the warming spell running while drawing from my physical energy. As soon as the connection was severed, I could feel myself relax a bit. “Desperate and difficult times don’t always inspire the clearest of minds. Sometimes dread gets the better of us.”

“Inalia’s gone now,” Eira said, staring at the floor.

Eva moved to face her, offering a warm smile. “No, she isn’t. She’s in every wisp of fire. Every candle that burns. Every flicker of light… It’s Inalia, watching over us. Just because she no longer has a physical form, it doesn’t mean she’s not with us anymore.”

Nodding slowly, Eira burst into tears. I understood her pain, I really did. I’d said goodbye to people dear to me many times before. Eva hugged her and didn’t let go, and Eira unraveled in Eva’s arms. Varga watched them with renewed interest—Eva, especially. She’d surprised us already, more than once, and I had a feeling our vampire-sentry charmer had, in turn, been charmed by the serpent-spirited princess.

“Look outside,” Herakles said from his chair by the window.

We all got up and followed his gaze. All over Silvergate, the lights went on. In windows and streetlamps. In small courtyards and in the massive torches that the four guardian statues of the city held in their silver hands. The fire burned bright and healthy, as the planet resumed its natural cycle, having narrowly escaped the clutches of a freezing death.

“At least that’s done and over with,” Raphael replied, his voice low.

It was written all over their faces. Despite the short time they’d spent together, they’d all taken a liking to Inalia. And what wasn’t there to love? The girl was an absolute firecracker, with a giant heart and a most vibrant soul. While her physical body was gone, her spirit remained—burning brighter and more powerful than ever.

“I wonder what Tae is up to,” Amelia said softly. “I’m a little worried he’s not back yet.”

“If he’s still in Lemnos Woods, you won’t be able to reach him. You could still try,” Raphael suggested.

“It can’t be easy for him,” I said. “Give him some time, Amelia. I tore him a new one just earlier.”

“You were a bit rough on him,” she replied.

“I had to be, and you know it.” Her nod was a good answer. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her. “We need to talk about what’s coming next. Because we all know it doesn’t stop here.”

Their shoulders dropped, almost in perfect unison. I hated doing this so soon, but time still wasn’t on our side. The Hermessi kept taking our fae, and these local Hermessi were especially eager to come after us. Nothing had changed on that front.

“We know there was an event about four million years ago that stopped the first ritual, right?” Eva asked, still close to Eira, who was now wiping the remaining tears from her face. I figured she had more to spill, but she was saving them for later. We needed her, too, after all.

I nodded. “We don’t know who or what was behind it, but we do know it killed some of the original Hermessi. Most were replaced by their Hermessi children; however, in a few rare instances, such as Ramin’s, they were created. As if the universe didn’t want their planets to die out like Cerix would’ve without Inalia.”

“That, to me, is peculiar. What force would be able to create Hermessi?” Amelia replied, frowning. “Up until now, I’d have thought that they were the most powerful entities out there. Should we now assume that they’re not?”

Taeral appeared in the middle of the room, covered in dirt and dust. His eyes were puffy, but other than that, he seemed okay. None of us said anything for a while, just stared at him, waiting for him to speak first. The tension between us was a smidge of awkwardness that we needed to get out of the way, eventually.

“No Shill came back with me this time, either,” he finally said. “Maybe they can’t teleport with us across larger distances, after all.”

I was genuinely surprised and speechless. I would’ve at least expected some kind of farewell remark about Inalia coming from him. Instead, he seemed focused on the mission, and I had zero problems with that.

“That’s good,” I replied, my eyes smiling at him. “The last thing we need is a Shill stowaway wherever we go.”

He grinned. “My fire is back.”

Eira seemed confused, her eyes bulging as she stared at him. She didn’t say anything, though, not even when he looked at her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier,” he added.

“Come here, you,” Riza replied, then grabbed Taeral in a tight hug.

One by one, the rest of the crew joined in, layering around Taeral as he stood there, closing his eyes and welcoming their affection. He wasn’t one to do any kind of caring and sharing, but his teammates knew him well enough to understand that he’d suffered a tremendous loss just now, even though he wasn’t showing it.

With Riza, Amelia, Raphael, Herakles, Varga, and Eva hugging him, Eira caved in and joined the huddle, while I stayed back, watching them and feeling thankful to have met such kind and caring creatures. Despite their thorns and snarky comebacks, they were extraordinary beings. The universe needed more of them, not fewer, no matter what the Hermessi thought.

“You’ve saved us all,” the emperor said to me, his tone low so as not to disrupt the group hug. I looked at him, my eyebrows arched.

“Your Majesty, Inalia saved us all.”

“Yes, but she had you all by her side. You inspired her. I can see how she found the courage to do this, in the end. I’m certain when I say that it is thanks to your crew, Lumi, and there is nothing you can say to change my mind.”

While all that sounded nice, it didn’t make me feel any less powerless. The Hermessi were still a few steps ahead of us, and we’d just lost a friend. I knew Inalia wouldn’t be able to go against the others without drawing their ire and retaliation, so I didn’t dare think of her as an ally anymore.

The truth was, it was time for us to start considering her a potential enemy.

That hurt me more than losing her.