Now or never.

Isa watched Basil step off the path into the underbrush to “go water some tree,” as he put it, giving her the precious opportunity she’d been waiting for. Ever since she paid her debt to him, she’d been racking her brain, trying to remember the correct spell to cast on Calâr. She still wasn’t entirely sure she had it right, but time was running out. She needed to act.

They’d left the inn at dawn, and with the midmorning sun peeking out from behind a layer of clouds, they were so close to Nornûn now she could sense its magic. This might be the last chance she’d get before they reached the oracle. Now Basil had left them alone for a few minutes, she could turn on Calâr and find out once and for all what, exactly, he planned to do—and how to stop him. If she managed to extract the details of Calâr’s agenda from him this way, she’d never need to reveal her own duplicity to Basil…she could sink into death’s arms without having tainted the bond she shared with him.

Leaves rustled as Basil disappeared in the bushes. As soon as he was out of sight, Isa glanced at Calâr out of the corner of her eye, her muscles tensing. He was righting his tunic, looking in the other direction. One deep breath…and she muttered the words that would hopefully shatter his mental shields, penetrate his mind, and reveal his thoughts and memories.

“Arîmai koyun’or tarhâ,” she whispered, forming the complex hand gesture to unlock the magic of the spell, and praying to the Fates she got it right. There was a reason witches studied years to learn this craft—it was tricky, complicated, and dangerous if done incorrectly.

Power charged the air, then struck and slammed into Calâr. He gasped, swayed, stumbled against a tree. Isa staggered as well, as affected by the magic as he was, drawn to the object she’d cast her spell on. She tumbled into Calâr, her thoughts whirling, sights and sounds of the outside world fading in a storm of mental images as she was sucked into the other fae’s mind.

Darkness, light flickering to and fro, shadows rising and falling like mist. Murmured voices echoed as if reverberating in a great hall. Colors and shapes formed out of the haze.

…unparalleled power…rare half-breed magic…

Basil’s image flashed, faded.

Make them kneel, make them weak. I’ll make them fear me.

Greed gripped her, so strong she shivered from it.

Voices whispered past, vicious and cold.

…not of royal blood…never ascend to the throne…keep your nose in those dusty books…

Anger roared like a violent, red-tinged storm.

They drown in their decadence, unambitious and without vision. Now is my time. None of them had the gumption to even try, and it will be their ruin.

Basil’s face again, his beauty like a knife to her heart. More images, thoughts, memories rushed around her, and she saw, felt the horror he planned.

“What's going on?”

The male voice punched through the swirling mist of Calâr’s thoughts. A hand grabbed her shoulder, pulled her away from the other fae, broke the connection of their minds. Isa staggered against Basil, blinked at the light of the real world filtering back into her consciousness.

“Isa and I were just—” Calâr began, his chest heaving as if he’d run a mile, but she cut him off, her heart racing.

“He’s set a trap, Basil.”

Basil frowned, snapped to attention. “What?”

“Don't listen to her,” Calâr said, taking a step towards Basil, his face set in such reassuring lines, his whole demeanor that of an honest, well-meaning male. “She seems to have had another of her seizures, and it confused her mind.”

Isa gritted her teeth, looking daggers at the other fae. “My mind is fine.” She stood, turned to Basil. “He cast a spell. While you were sleeping the other night. Some sort of mind mirror. He bound himself to you, so when you trigger the true name revelation at the oracle, he’ll see what you see, hear what you hear in your head, because your thoughts are mirrored in his mind. Once he knows your true name, he’ll be able to control you.”

Basil tensed, glancing between Isa and Calâr.

“You have no proof,” Calâr said, the calm of his voice betrayed by the twitching of his facial muscles, the murderous glint in his eyes as he glared at her.

Isa turned back to Basil. “I broke into his mind just now. I had to know, had to find out what he’s planning to do with you. Remember my warning? This is it, this is the part that I was missing—why he’d want to control you. As a demon-fae half-breed, your powers—”

Calâr made a move, but froze at the sight of a nocked arrow pointing directly at his face, ready to ram into his eye. The muscles in Basil’s arms flexed as he pulled the arrow back farther on the bowstring.

“Don’t even think about it,” Basil said to him. Looking at Isa, he added, “Keep talking.”

She gave him a grim nod. “Your powers are a direct threat to all living fae. Used maliciously, your magic can weaken and hurt every single fae in Faerie…even kill them. Calâr wants this power for himself. Half-breeds like you are rare since the fae consider them abominations, and they’re normally killed at birth, so he’s been waiting for one for hundreds of years. Most fae don’t even know about this anymore, because demon-fae relations have been forbidden for so long that all but a few of us have forgotten why. I had no idea. But he—”

She jerked her head at Calâr, curled her lip in disgust. “As keeper of the fae archives, he came upon this information. He found out about you, and now he’s on the verge of a power grab the likes of which Faerie has never seen.

“And he’s been lying to you beyond that.” She focused on Basil again. “That story he told you about how the fae who exchanged you at birth told him on her deathbed about you, and asked him to take care of you? That’s a bald-faced lie. Oh, he did learn about you and your identity from the fae who exchanged you…right before he murdered her. And he hasn't told you about your father.”

“She’s the one who’s lying,” Calâr hissed. “She hasn’t mentioned that she—”

“He’s still alive,” Isa added, in a rush to distract Basil from whatever Calâr was going to spit out. “Basil—your father is still alive. He wasn’t killed back then, he was imprisoned, and he managed to escape just a few days ago. He slaughtered the entire royal court to avenge you and your mother, and he injured the fae who exchanged you. She told your father about you, and he immediately left the fae in the throne room to go searching for you. Calâr was there too. He survived the slaughter, and he pressed the fae for more information and then killed her. He’s been lying to you from the start, just like I warned you. He’s been leading you here to the Oracle so you can learn your true name, but with the mind mirror he’s set up, he’ll learn it, too, and he’ll enslave you.”

The fae sneered. “Why should you trust her to tell the truth—”

“I trust her with my life.” Basil’s voice was deadly quiet.

“Oh?” The vindictive glint in Calâr’s eyes chilled the blood in her veins. “The same life she needs to take to break her death curse?”

Basil frowned, but kept his bow and arrow trained on Calâr. “What?”

Isa trembled, her pulse a roar in her ears. This is it. Her precarious house of cards was going to collapse and scatter to the four winds.

An evil smile sneaked across Calâr’s face. “She hasn’t told you about that, has she? Not even in those intimate hours she spent in your arms…” He clucked his tongue. “How disappointing. Then again, it makes sense she’d hesitate to tell you that she needs to kill you if she wants to live.”

The bow shook in Basil’s hands. “Isa?” he ground out. “What the fuck is he talking about?”

She opened her mouth, her stomach cramping, but her voice fled. Words failed her.

“Now, look at this,” Calâr said on a sigh. “She still won’t tell you. Well, I guess that leaves me to explain her deceit to you. Mind you, I’ve taken this straight from her thoughts. When she attacked me just now, trying to break into my mind, her little spell backfired and allowed me to see inside her head. So much in there she hasn’t told you, so much guilt and shame…”

Calâr shook his head. “You see, twenty-six years ago, she was cursed to die a slow and painful death, and the seizures she’s been having are the symptoms of that curse progressing. She’s stalled it with magic for a while, but death has been catching up with her. And you—” His smile was sharp like a blade. “—you’re her only hope to break the curse. For that, she needs to kill you.”

No, Isa wanted to scream, it’s not true. Not anymore. The bastard was twisting the truth, and yet her heart raced so fast, her breath came so uneven, she found herself incapable of uttering a single word.

Basil stood as still as if turned to stone, his widened eyes fixed on Calâr.

The nefarious fae weasel continued, his expression displaying more confidence than mere moments ago, apparently buoyed by the obvious impact of his revelations. “You’re probably wondering why she would need to kill you to break her curse. Know what else happened twenty-six years ago?” He made a dramatic pause. “When your mother ran from the royal court to save you, she was brought back…by a bounty hunter.”

Basil jerked, and the bow almost slipped from his grasp. His eyes flicked to Isa.

“Yes,” Calâr whispered. “It was Isa. Your mother pleaded with her, begged her to spare her and her unborn child. And what did your beloved do? She dragged your pregnant mother back to Faerie anyway, to collect her reward.”

Isa couldn’t see through her tears, but even so, she felt Basil’s look spear her like a physical weapon.

“Your mother,” Calâr went on, “realized the bounty hunter didn’t have a shred of compassion or decency, so she cursed her.”

A gasp broke from Isa’s throat. Air. Where was the air? Her lungs tried to haul in breath.

“When your lovely Isa later learned that the only way to break the curse was to kill the one who cast it, or end her bloodline, she despaired. Roana died in childbirth, and her babe as well, from what she heard. Now, imagine her joy when she found out Roana’s child was alive all along—she only needed to find him, kill him, and her curse would shatter.

“And guess how she found out about it? She was there the night your father slaughtered the royal court. She was present in the throne room, hiding in stone when the massacre began. She heard the fae tell your father about you.” Calâr lowered his voice to a vicious snarl. “She knew your father was alive all this time. She knew, and she kept it from you, even though she understands how much it would mean to you.”

Her chest constricted at the look on Basil’s face. At the pain etched into his features. “Isa,” he rasped. “Is this true?”

Shaking, she was shaking so hard she barely got the word out. “Yes.”

Something broke in his eyes, and her heart splintered along with it. “You saw my father? You knew he’s looking for me?”

“Yes.” Her voice, it was a hoarse whisper.

“And you were the one who brought my mother back to Faerie?”

“Yes.” Her heart, it could not hurt more than this.

“She cursed you to die?”

“Yes.” Her soul, it could not be any more stained.

His voice was barely more than a croak. “You want to kill me?”

“No.” She shook her head, frantically, and took a step toward him. “No, I don’t.”

He frowned. “But you just said—”

“I wanted to kill you.” The words tumbled out on a sob. “To break the curse. It’s the only way, but I don’t want to anymore. I can’t take your life. I just can’t. And I won’t, I swear to you.”

“But all this time,” Basil ground out, “you’ve been lying to me.” He exhaled roughly. “That’s why you were so mad when I saved your life. Because owing me a life debt meant you couldn’t kill me, right? There I was, falling in love with you, while you were biding your time until you could turn around and kill me.”

He shouted the last part, and she flinched.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please understand… I’ve been suffering from this curse for more than two decades…when I met you, all I cared about was survival. I didn’t know you. To me, you were the one thing left between me and an end to my curse, my suffering. But the more I got to know you, the more I—” She tried to draw in breath, and her lungs stung. “Basil, I could already have killed you, right after I paid my debt. I didn’t. I can’t.”

Sniffing, she wiped at her eyes. Her chest burned from the pressure of suppressed sobs. “You won me over, you stole my heart, you changed everything. I love you. More than my own life, which is why I changed my mind. I’ll rather die than take your life.”

“And yet,” Calâr chimed in, his voice insidiously smooth, “she never told you the truth until now. She would have kept all this from you, would have gone to her death, leaving you to mourn her, without ever warning you that you were going to lose her. A fine lover you have there.” He clucked his tongue again. “Betraying you until the very end.”

* * *

The pain piercing Basil’s heart spread through his chest, through his veins, like corrosive acid, until everything, everything hurt. His arms trembled as he held the bow and arrow still trained on Calâr, though he looked at Isa. “Why? Why haven’t you said anything?”

“Basil…” Tears trailed down her cheeks, her face contorted. “I didn't want to spoil what we had. I know I'm going to die. I can’t change it. You can’t change it. And I…I just wanted to enjoy you, wanted to enjoy what little time I have left…”

“And you kept this from me.”

Her chin quivered, her eyes liquid silver. “And what was I supposed to say? How should I have told you about the curse, and your mother, your father, about—” A sob visibly destroyed her. “I was ashamed. I was afraid of how you’d look at me, that I’d lose your love if you learned how I betrayed you—”

“You should have told me you’re going to die!”

She jerked as if he’d slapped her.

“What the fuck do I care about the things you had to do to survive—I fucking care about you not dying. I had a right to know I’d lose you!”

“I know,” she choked out. “I’m sorry. I’m so s-sorry…”

A stealthy movement in the corner of his eye. Basil whipped back toward Calâr, who’d drawn a dagger out of nowhere, his face set in harsh lines. Basil raised his bow again—which he hadn’t been aware he was lowering—and pointed the arrow at the duplicitous male fae once more.

“You,” Basil growled. “Do not even dare to breathe. I’ll get to you in a minute.”

Calâr narrowed his eyes but stayed where he was, both hands half-raised, his right one holding the dagger in a non-aggressive way. Basil ground his teeth, his blood on fire with too many poisonous emotions he didn’t even have a name for.

Isa’s strangled cry startled him. His attention shot to her, and his stomach dropped. She was doubled over, jerking. No. Another seizure?

Symptoms of her death curse progressing…

His heart froze, along with the blood in his veins. His chest knotted, locked in his breath.

Isa convulsed and collapsed on the ground. Without thinking, on instinct, Basil lowered his weapon and rushed forward. The same instant, Calâr jumped to the side in a lightning-quick move, grabbed Isa off the ground and hauled her up in front of him, the blade of his gleaming sharp dagger held under her chin.

“Stop right there, or I'll cut her throat.”

Basil stumbled to a stop, his heart racing.

“She’s convulsing heavily, and shaking hard, and I’m doing my best to keep her still, but if you take one more step toward me, my hand might just slip.”

Reflexively, Basil raised his bow again.

“Uh-uh.” Calâr increased the pressure of the blade until it nicked her skin, and a rivulet of blood trickled down her throat. “Lay down your weapons. Now.”

Gritting his teeth, Basil lowered his bow, relaxed the arrow, and laid both on the ground.

“All of your weapons.”

With a curse, he complied. One dagger after another clattered on the growing pile in front of him, until he was done, and held up his hands, palms outward.

Calâr sneered. “Good. Do what I say, and I won’t harm her. If you come along and trigger your true name revelation, I will hand her over to you, unspoiled.”

Basil fisted his hands. His muscles tensed with the instinct, with the urgent need to lunge at Calâr and free Isa from his grasp. But he knew, he fucking knew he wouldn’t be quick enough. Calâr would slit her throat before Basil ever reached him.

A keening cry floated down from the breeze, followed by the flap of wings. Basil looked up, as did Calâr, and the next second a bird of prey shot out of the stretch of sky between the trees lining the forest path.

Kîna.

Claws outstretched, the hawk launched herself at Calâr. He ducked his head and lost his grip on Isa, who slumped to the ground.

Now.

Basil grabbed a dagger from the pile and ran toward the other fae. Calâr had shaken off Kîna, but she came back at him immediately in a quick flight maneuver, distracting Calâr while Basil charged him.

With a roar, a mighty wind rose up out of nowhere. The squall hit Basil full-on, shoved him back with the force of an oncoming truck until he slammed down on the ground. The violent gust also hit the hawk, whipped at her in the middle of her attack, and hurled her away. The raptor crashed into the bushes several yards into the forest.

No. Not Isa’s beloved bird. Rage boiling in his gut, Basil glared at Calâr. That fucking air-manipulating bastard.

Breathing hard, Calâr hauled Isa up again, set his dagger once more at her throat. “Now,” he snarled, “we walk the last bit to Nornûn.”

A thought flitted through Basil’s head, unwelcome and devastating in its implications. He didn’t even want to entertain it.

But it must have shown on his face, for Calâr quietly said, “You don’t know if she’s really going to die. There may be a cure yet, one she hasn’t found. If you comply with my demands, I’ll hand her over, and there will be time for both of you to search for a cure. Aren’t the witches in your family especially talented? I’m sure they will find a way to break her curse, and then both of you will be able to live happily ever after. But if you don’t do as I say, I will cut her throat, and she will die, right here, right now. Don’t gamble your chance at a future with her for the uncertainty that she might die anyway.”

Shit. No matter how he turned it, Basil was well and truly fucked. Give in to Calâr’s demands, and he’d enslave Basil and use his powers to begin a reign of terror in Faerie, or refuse to obey in the belief that Isa was doomed to die anyway, and watch him kill Isa right in front of him.

But the bastard was right—Basil wasn’t completely convinced her curse could only be broken by killing him. Maybe there was another way. If he only had more time with her…

Dammit, he would not risk Calâr killing Isa on the off chance that she was right and her impending death was inevitable. He really didn’t have a choice.

With a grim nod at Calâr, he resumed his trek toward the oracle.