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I’d been planning to tell Visha to start cutting, but now I paused, unable to believe the stubborn keeper had actually said the words. “And?”

She drew a breath. “And I am sorry. I made a mistake.”

Kazmyn looked at me. “I think that was her first apology. Ever.”

“I don’t fucking care,” I snapped, my rage returning. “Pendragon is gone.” I turned and began stalking toward my tent, already thinking of the gear I’d need and what I could leave behind.

“Blake,” Sankara called. “We need a plan.”

I whirled. “The plan is I go get my girl.”

“Sankara is right,” Visha said. “Think, Blake, don’t just be reckless. You need us. You’re not attacking Mortis alone.” She moved closer to me, blade tucked away again. “Let’s go and make Silvio Santos wish he’d never been born.”

Her words cut through the red haze of rage. I knew she was right. I took a deep breath. “All right.”

Chapter 62

MEDRA

By the time Gretchen shoved me inside Silvio Santos’s tent, I was furious. With her, Silvio, and all of House Mortis. But especially with myself.

Silvio’s tent was bigger than any of the ones we’d brought. Probably because he was using his people as his pack mules. He had enough room to stand and move around. A lantern hung from a pole in the center, and he had an actual cot to sleep on. He also had a table—covered with maps and notes. He stood in the middle of the tent, arms crossed, grinning like he’d just been handed a present.

“Wipe that look off your face,” I snapped, fidgeting against the rope restraining my wrists. “Where are my friends?”

“Well, well, well,” he drawled. “Welcome to Camp Mortis. Honestly, Pendragon, I’m a little surprised to see you. I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to come.”

I glared at him, but really, I’d been thinking the same thing. What else could I have done, though? They’d said to come alone, which meant they must have had a plan to kill Neville or at least Hawl if we dared to attack first.

I lifted my chin. “Where are Hawl and Neville? Are they safe?”

“Hawl?” Silvio scratched his chin.

“The giant armored bear.” I’d already seen the damage Hawl had done to the Mortis camp. “Didn’t bargain for Hawl when you took our fluffin, did you, asshole?”

“So Neville is … ?” Silvio gave a barking laugh. “Oh shit. You gave the thing a name?” I didn’t answer. He took a step closer, looking me up and down in that lascivious way he had. “Of course the fluffin is safe. We need it.”

“And Hawl?”

He ignored me, which wasn’t a good sign. “In fact, I’d say that little furry ball of fluff is the most valuable thing here.” His gaze slid over my face. “Well. Second-most valuable.”

A chill went through me. “You said this was an exchange. Neville for me.” Obviously that wasn’t going to happen; they weren’t going to let Neville go. I figured they’d let Hawl go, though. I’d stay with Neville, and Hawl could go back to Blake. They’d regroup and attack, and …

And the way Silvio was looking at me said I’d miscalculated about more than his honor.

He leaned in, voice low like we were sharing a secret. “We needed your fluffin. But we also needed you.”

I took a step back, the blood draining from my face. “What?”

He smiled, showing his fangs. “Oh, your little Stone Keeper didn’t tell you that?”

I stared at him stupidly. “You need dragon blood.”

“Do you see any dragons down here, Pendragon?”

I didn’t answer that. I hadn’t been sure what Mortis had been planning to do about that part. I figured we’d wipe them out before they got that far, or that Lord Sharma had lied to them about what was needed.

But we were the ones who had been lied to.