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But I did know he’d been the ruler of this island once, more than five hundred years ago. If anyone could win the throne back the proper faerie way and get the island to recognize him as the rightful king, it was him.

I’d still have to bring Mydusia her sister’s head, but there would be no branded citizens under her rule, so there would be no one else for me to kill.

Rayna, her friends, her family, my family, everyone else… they’d be safe from my hands already stained red in the name of the queen across the sea.

In theory, at least.

Oh, come here. Rayna’s voice was suddenly in my head, her own Mind Manipulating power finding me and reeling me in with surprising strength.

I went willingly.

In the real world, I continued to lean against the mansion across the street, bathed in shadows as water dripped from the eaves above while she settled into her bed, yanking the covers up to her chin.

In the confines of her mind, however, we landed hand-in-hand amid the cobbled walls that lined her thoughts. A perpetual sunset streaked the sky overhead and a creak gurgled past us, the crystalline sound like a lullaby to my ears.

“We’re going to do it, Coen.” She angled toward me and trailed her fingers over my face, her outline wavering ever so slightly. “We’re going to make Jagaros king of this island again.”

Refusing to dim the determination shining on her face, I shoved every goddamn bit of doubt and fear far, far down and pulled my mouth into a lazy grin. “I guess that starts with finding the bastard, doesn’t it?”

Because that was the problem now. Where even was the damned tiger? If I knew, I’d Walk to him right here and now.

“Don’t worry. I’ll ask the jungle to take me to him tomorrow,” Rayna said confidently, and then paused with a slight grimace. “But maybe don’t call him a bastard in front of his face if you want to keep all your limbs.”

“I don’t know, Barberro looks pretty makyi with his missing hand.” I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Makyi means the equivalent of ‘cool’ in Sorronian, but don’t you ever tell him I said that.”

She threw back her head and laughed. “Oh, I’m sure he already knows.” Right on time, a pocket of mist behind us morphed into a memory of Barberro talking about his oversized dick.

At which point Rayna groaned and massaged her temples.

“Hey.” I smoothed a thumb over her forehead the way she had to mine, noting the dark circles blooming beneath her eyes even here, in her mind. “You should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow. Your first day as a third-year and all.”

“Right. Because The Language of Plants 103 is definitely the most important thing to worry about right now.” But there was a twinkle in the jade-hue of her eyes as she tilted her head at me. “How do you say goodnight in Sorronian?”

I cleared the sudden lump in my throat, knowing that in another life, we might have met in Sorronia, conversing fluently in the language of faeries under the same roof. “Floer awi. Better translated as ‘drift into the abyss.’”

She nodded and pressed something into my hand: a dark violet flower with dozens of little buds, one I hadn’t even noticed her pick. “Floer awi. Neh vi otla.”

I closed my fingers around it delicately, knowing that as soon as I opened my eyes in the real world, it would be gone. Wishing that it would stay.

“Goodnight, my via. I love you, too.”

As soon as my star-flecked darkness spit me back out onto the flagship, the world tilted and rocked with violent force, shouts crashing into my ears as loud as waves.

“Furl the mainsails! Belay that line before it kills someone!”

The captain was on deck, spitting orders at faerie crew members who dodged this way and that, shooting various types of magic at the masts and rigging to keep the ship steady. Terrin himself was leaning against the taffrail, palms outstretched as he attempted to calm the storm with his Element Wielding power—a success, to some degree.

The ship hadn’t capsized yet, at least.

Already drenched, I rushed forward to help tie gaskets around the lowered yards, which unfortunately brought me right next to the captain herself.

“Look who decided to show up,” she hissed over the shriek of wind.

“You know I have other duties to attend to.” I gritted my teeth, my grip on the gaskets tightening as I tied slipknots with practiced precision.

She shot me a snide look. “Like cuddling your girlfriend.”

I nearly snorted. The term girlfriend sounded far too simple for what Rayna and I had built between us—and I’d take a dagger to the heart for a chance to cuddle her. But I shrugged as I clung to the mast after the ship pitched sideways. “Something like that.”