“I don’t need rescuing!”

“As I feared, the Vrekeners brainwashed you, just like so many Sorceri before you. But I vow I will get you back. When we return to Rothkalina, I’m enrolling you in cult deprogramming.”

“You’re not hearing me. I want to stay with Thronos.”

As if Lanthe hadn’t spoken, Sabine said, “The stress of all you’ve been through isn’t helping. I know about the Order, about your fight to stay alive. About your capture and imprisonment here.”

“I’m not imprisoned! Why would I still have my sorcery if I were a prisoner?” Nothing. “How did you find the Skye, Sabine?” Can others?

“The same way that Dacian vampire did: with a one-of-a-kind scry crystal. It’s been tucked away in hidden Dacia for ages. Anyway, the leech let us borrow it. And then we used a portal power similar to yours.”

“We?”

With a wave of her hand, Sabine used her sorcery to make Lanthe’s necklace invisible. “I wouldn’t want that to be taken from you. She’ll think I merely gave you a glamour.”

“She . . . ?” Lanthe trailed off, swallowing with fear when Morgana emerged from the threshold, also in war regalia.

Her pale blond hair was interwoven throughout her gold headdress. Her irises were the color of a bottomless pit. Sorcery of differing colors swirled around her. Lanthe had never perceived so much of it in one being—Morgana was overflowing with reclaimed powers, laden with them.

Like a snake who’d recently fed.

The queen glared at her enemy’s domain with a vicious eye.

Lanthe held up her unlit hands, a gesture of yielding for Sorceri. “Now, let’s just talk about this, Morgana. Can we do that?” Lanthe glanced around; the people were all gathered in the bastion, which meant no targets at hand for Morgana to smite. For now.

But this also meant Thronos would return soon. . . .

“We shall talk,” Sabine said. “Back at Rothkalina. Come, Lanthe, we’re on a bit of a clock here.”

“Tick tock,” Morgana sneered. “I’ve seen more than enough.”

When Lanthe vowed, “There’s no way I’m leaving here,” Sabine clamped her arm in her gauntlet, turning her toward the portal. On the other side, visible through the threshold, was Lanthe’s tower room.

“Behold, sister, your room in Rothkalina.” As if speaking to a baby, she asked, “Do you remember your room? All your fabulous clothes, luxuries, servants, and self-help books are just beyond this threshold. Your TV and vault of gold await you. That is where you belong.”

Lanthe fought to throw off her grip. “I belong here. What can I do to make you believe I’m not brainwashed! I’m not going anywhere—”

“Nooo!” Thronos had caught sight of them from above. “Don’t touch her!” His wings snapped close to his body as he dove for them.

An enraged Vrekener was attacking, expression grim, eyes deadly.

A reckoning.

“Stay away!” Lanthe screamed. He was the embodiment of physical power, Morgana of mystical. Despite all the strength in his mighty body, and all his battle-hardened centuries, Thronos couldn’t match that queen. “She will kill you!”

He didn’t even slow; the rage in his eyes . . .

Morgana raised one hand. As if a giant fist had seized him in the air, he was brought up short, held in place—though he grappled to reach Lanthe.

“Don’t hurt him!” She started drawing on her own power.

Morgana squinted at her as if she were an insect in need of a good crushing. “Careful, little girl, I’ll snatch that persuasion from you before you could ever wield it against me.” She turned her attention back to Thronos in the air. With another wave of her hand, the queen began lowering him in front of her for a better look.

Lanthe turned to Sabine. —Ai-bee, please, please help us! I love Thronos.—

Behind her mask, Sabine rolled her eyes. —You cannot be serious.—

—I’ve loved him since I was nine. I have so much to tell you, but if Morgana kills him, she’ll be killing me!—

—I don’t believe your brainwashed babble. It makes no sense!—

—What if there’s even a chance it’s true? Imagine if Morgana was about to murder Rydstrom. Imagine how you’d feel. This is HAPPENING to me, right now.—

—How could you possibly love one of . . . them?— Sabine flicked her hand in Thronos’s direction.

Lanthe wanted to strangle her. —If I’m brainwashed, you can always kill him later. For now, HELP US!—

—I suppose that is true.—

When Morgana brought Thronos to the ground, to his knees, he grated, “Release my mate, and begone from these lands.” Gnashing his teeth, he fought her sorcery enough to stand.

Morgana appeared surprised by his strength. But when Thronos again tried to reach Lanthe, the queen redoubled her hold, halting him in place. “This one had the audacity to abduct one of my subjects.” Prismatic wisps of sorcery coiled around her. “Actions against Sorceri will now have swift and severe consequences.”

“Morgana, I wasn’t abducted! I made a conscious decision to come here!”

The queen merely ignored her.

—Ai-bee, please!—

—Fine. My gods.— Sabine’s insouciance never faded as she said, “Morgana, though this is tiresome even to bring up . . .”