Fraschkit's eyes still flickered with skepticism. "Who would come looking? And when?"

"The Queen's Scouts." When everyone exchanged confused glances, including me, Isalio continued. "Beasts that scope out villages and reports to the Queen."

"How powerful are these beasts?" I asked. "Can we destroy them before they have a chance to deliver the message?"

He licked his lips. "They can fly quickly, and they've got deadly venom. On the ground, they look and move like slugs, covered in eyes and ears. Theoretically, a Demon-slayer mace could strike them down."

"Theoretically?"

"I've never seen it happen. The Sidabeast usually doesn't let them land. And if even one makes it out alive, the whole force of the palace will be here within hours."

"So the Sidabeast controls the Scouts."

Fraschkit looked at me. "What is this 'Sidabeast?'"

I glanced at Isalio, but he didn't answer. "It's the beast the Queen summoned," I said. "When I met the Queen, the Sidabeast made a high-pitched sound that brought me to my knees, but the Demons couldn't even hear it."

"So beasts can control other beasts?" Fraschkit's gaze trailed from me back to Isalio. "Can the Morgabeast control other beasts, as well?"

"Not yet," said Isalio.

"Not yet?"

"It's trying."

The tension in the room ignited, and reactions rippled across the table. My fingers on Isalio's leg curled into a fist, but when I felt him tense in response, I forced myself to relax my hand and hummed an encouragement for him to continue.

Isalio swallowed. "When I first summoned the Morgabeast, I had full control...or at least, I had as much control of the beast as I did of myself." That last part raised some eyebrows, but he continued before anyone could raise a question. "Back then, I just followed all of the General's orders, and the Morgabeast seemed happy to obey. But when I tried to restrain the beast, it rebelled."

A few seconds passed in silence before Sister Rapchuk spoke in a high-pitched croak. "You're saying you can't control the Morgabeast?"

"I can, with enough lifeforce. But it's getting stronger, and I'm..." I heard Danif's slithering whisper: 'You're getting weaker, baby.' Isalio sucked in a breath. "The beast is getting harder to control." He raised his cuffed hands above the table. "Especially with cuffs."

Fraschkit had been listening with rapt attention, but now she snorted derision. "So that's your game; I was waiting to hear that. Remove the cuffs, or the beast will attack?"

He dropped his hands to his lap once more and averted his eyes. "I didn't ask you to remove the cuffs. Anyway, the Morgabeast is not currently a threat. If the Morgabeast were nearby, the animals would be fleeing."

That was what Manikbar had claimed, and it also reinforced the connection with the crows. But if the Morgabeast was not nearby, and Isalio was not currently controlling it...

"Then where is the beast now?" I asked.

Silence hung heavy as all eyes pierced Isalio, and the band of tension stretched taut, ready to snap.

The door burst open.

Around the table, Guardians jolted halfway out of their seats as if the beast itself had burst through the door. But this was not the Morgabeast—this was a different force of nature. Zuzette bustled into the room, skirt swishing around her ankles.

Manikbar released a relieved chuckle. As Zuzette passed his chair, he lifted his tea cup. "I'd like some more tea, if you don't mind."

Zuzette shot the tea cup a scathing glare but then flashed Manikbar a honey-sweet smile. "I don't mind at all, especially if you grab me some while you're up."

Manikbar's jaw dropped. Zuzette snatched a stool from the kitchen area, dropped it next to the table, and plopped down.

Fraschkit frowned. "Zuzette, I don't believe you were invited to this meeting."

"Don't worry," said Zuzette. "I can forgive that oversight."

Fraschkit ground her jaw as though chewing leather. Zuzette leaned forward and propped her elbows on her knees, smile still pasted on her face. Around the table, eyebrows ticked together, and mouths opened in silent protest. Everyone looked between Zuzette and Fraschkit, awaiting a response.

Finally, Fraschkit shook her head and released a breath of mingled exasperation and...amusement? "Fine. We'll continue." She nodded at Isalio. "Where is the Morgabeast, Demon?"

All attention drilled Isalio once more, but he only shook his head. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, you don't know? Can't you sense it?"

"I can sense when it's getting near, and I know when it's..." He trailed off, and his eyes found mine before dropping to the table in front of him again.

Again, I wondered what he still wasn't telling me.

Fraschkit blew out a frustrated exhale. "We don't have time to waste. First, we need to send a few Guardians out to deliver the message to Borgal's followers. And after that...if the Demon is telling the truth, the palace will find us here. How will we protect all of the humans?"

"We can't," I said. The words felt heavy—defeatist—but I had to make sure everyone understood what we are up against. "The Demons and beasts at the palace are far more powerful than the Guardians here. If the palace attacks Sitaklasa with full force anytime soon, we don't have the numbers or strength to protect ourselves, much less the humans."

Desperation sharpened Rapchuk's voice. "We'll use the prisoner as leverage. We can tell the palace that if they harm anyone in Sitaklasa, we'll smash their precious prince to a pulp."

"That's not—" Not what he's here for; not something I will allow. But those answers would not sit well with this group, so I changed track. "He's not precious to them. They sent him to us to be tortured before. The moment he's not helping them, they'll turn against him."

Rapchuk growled. "Then what do you suggest, Remgar? The humans of Sitaklasa welcomed refugees believing Guardians would protect them. Were they wrong? Will we all go down together?"

"Together is the only way we can survive." I was repeating a platitude I'd heard many times before, but now the words sounded flimsy, a mirage that would fade if one stepped too close.

"Together?" Zuzette scoffed. "That's cute. The Guardian team is a fucking mess. Though, I will admit, the Demon team is also a shit show. The question is, whose shit show is shittier?"

I drew a breath, grasping for something more constructive than my previous statement and more positive than Zuzette's. "We need more time to recover and recruit more allies before we face the enemy."

Fraschkit nodded. "There must be a village further from the palace, maybe one with homes built underground?"

"I've heard of such a place," another Guardian offered, a trim man with gray hair standing on end in a frizzy bush as though he had been electrocuted. "'The Mantle,' people have called it. But no one I know has seen it, and even if it exists, I'm not sure they are still accepting refugees."

Fraschikit hummed. "Vanchbar, can you lead a team in search of the Mantle? You may choose two Guardians to accompany you, whoever you think might help most."

"Yes, Leader," said the man.

"Find somewhere with signal so you can update us by mid-afternoon, and return to Sitaklasa before nightfall. Same goes for the group warning the Guardians of Borgal's betrayal."

"If the palace finds us before we can relocate," I said, "We need to hide everyone who is not fighting." I turned to the decorated Sitaklasa Guardian across from me. "Sister Rapchuk, does every house in Sitaklasa have an underground cellar?"

She tilted her head high. "Yes, of course. I mean, the humans are all..." She darted a glance at the human servers in the kitchen. "They should probably have..."

"You don't know," said Zuzette, sounding equal parts amused and angry. "Luckily, there are humans here just waiting to be asked. Or is that too much of a blow to your almighty egos?"

The Guardians eyed the Sitaklasa servants, but the humans' heads remained lowered, gazes averted.

The spark of discomfort I had felt when Baggunt addressed me as 'Brother' now kindled a full-blown burn of embarrassment. I was coming to trust my own team less, but was I any better? Why had I addressed Sister Rapchuk alone when several Sitaklasa humans were present? And along with the embarrassment, a new kind of protectiveness surged within me. I wanted to save the humans here from those who wished to harm them, but they needed to be defended from those who belittled them as well—like the Guardians. Like me.

These thoughts were new and uncomfortable, but power surged beneath my feet, assuring and emboldening me.

"Brother Baggunt," I said.

Everyone turned toward me with eyebrows raised, but the human I had addressed appeared most flustered of all. He dropped the plate he had been washing, which resonated against the counter as it rolled to a halt.

"No need to call me that, Brother Remgar." He gave a nervous chuckle and shuffled on his feet. "I'm not the one saving the world."

"None of us are, yet. But that's what we're all here for: Guardian, human, and Demon. So, Brother Baggunt...can you answer that question? Do the humans here all have an underground cellar?"

He exchanged a glance with the other humans before answering. "I regret to admit that most here still don't have any underground dwelling. The Guardians made this suggestion over a week ago, but some humans have regrettably been preoccupied with other matters."

"Other matters like tending crops and feeding everyone?" Zuzette guessed.

He offered an apologetic shrug.

Fraschkit blew out a breath. "I don't think the Guardians here require any further service. We can clean up after ourselves. I would like every Sitaklasa human present to disperse and find out how many humans have underground shelter—and whether there's enough extra space for those who don't."

"And ask if any humans here would like to fight," Zuzette added.

"No." Fraschkit shook her head. "This battle is not for humans."

"If humans have been allowed to die, they should be allowed to fight."

"That's not how Guardians operate. We protect humans, not fight beside them."

"Ah, so you're sticking to the plan you've followed for the last fourteen years. How's that going for you?"

Fraschkit's jaw clamped. "Guardians have served humanity the best we can."

"Really? Because all I see here is humans serving Guardians."

Fraschkit blinked. Others' reactions were less subdued. Manikbar's tea cup slipped from his fingers and clattered to the floor, rolling to a halt beside his muddy boot.

To my surprise, Isalio was first to speak, turning to address the humans in the kitchen. "This is grouse, isn't it?" He picked up his fork and poked at his barely-eaten stew.

Their eyes widened, but a couple nodded their heads.

"Do humans hunt the grouse?"

Again, a few bewildered head nods.

Isalio turned back toward the Guardians. "Grouse are fast. If the humans can shoot them, they might be able to shoot the wings of the Queen's Scouts. They just need rubber-lined arrows. If the humans can ground the Scouts, the Guardians can kill them. But none can be allowed to escape, or the entire force of the palace will be here within hours."

A few Guardians hummed thoughtfully, though their eyebrows were drawn in skepticism.

Fraschkit drew a loud breath. "If that's true—if—we need to keep a kill count. How many Scouts are there?"

"Last I heard, there were thirteen."

"Leader," said Manikbar, "With all due respect, why are we listening to this rude, ungrateful human, and this"—he eyed Isalio and shuddered—"this monster? I'd call him a wolf pretending to be a sheep, but I'm not sure he's even bothering to pretend. He doesn't have to, it seems. You're welcoming him even with his fangs fully bared."

"The Demon is not welcome," Fraschkit said. "He's an unfortunate necessity right now, and everything he says will be held under appropriate suspicion."

Isalio's fork clinked against his plate, though his expression remained blank.

"Oh, is everyone here holding him under suspicion?" Manikbar rounded on me. "I hear Remgar slept in his cell last night! What if Remgar is another Borgal?"

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but the memory of my father's shame twisted tight over my lungs, and I didn't trust myself to manage an even tone.

"Remgar is not another Borgal," Fraschkit spat. "He brought this Demon to us because we believed he could be useful, and he slept in the cell because we believed the asset needed to be secured." Fraschkit nodded at me. "Isn't that right, Remgar?"

The rest of the room appeared impressed by Fraschit's argument, and I should have been grateful at the lifeline she had handed me, but her words sounded so wrong, so heartless, so at odds with the memory of Isalio's tense body finally softening in my arms. I side-glanced Isalio, but he would not meet my gaze.

Realizing the Guardians were still awaiting my response, I forced myself to nod. "I believe we cannot win this war without him."

I inched my hand a little further over on his thigh to find his fingers, hoping to offer reassurance. The moment I brushed his cold skin, he jerked his hand away.

"There you have it," said Fraschkit. "And, as for the 'rude' and 'ungrateful' human..."

All eyes traveled to Zuzette, who ground her teeth in anticipation.

"Well, the human is..." Fraschkit's tongue pushed against her front teeth, hard, as though trying to roll away a boulder. "Probably right."

Zuzette's eyebrows shot up.

Manikbar hissed an exhale. "She's right? You can't possibly be serious. We've never entertained this kind of nonsense at a Council meeting before."

"Maybe that's why we're losing," said Fraschkit.

Zuzette leaned back on the stool and folded her arms over her chest, studying Fraschkit. "If you think I'm right...I'd like some tea."

A human grabbed the tea pot, but Zuzette shook her head at him. "No, no, relax—let's let the 'servants of humanity' handle this one."

The man's eyes widened, but he let the teapot drift back down to the table. The Guardians around the table exchanged shocked and enraged glances.

I winced. She may have had some valid points, but she was taking this too far too fast. The peacemaker in me wanted to just get Zuzette the tea, but I was already on shaky ground in this community, and anyway, Zuzette's challenge was not directed toward me. She was staring at Fraschkit.

Soon, everyone else followed Zuzette's gaze, waiting for Fraschkit's response. When Fraschkit rose from her seat, her stance emanated power. Her head brushed the ceiling, and the overhead lights lit her hair like flames.

"You wish to be served tea by the protectors of humanity?" Her voice was low and slow.

Zuzette shrank back slightly, but she lifted her chin in defiance. "I want to see a Guardian actually serve a human."

Even after so much time spent with her, I wasn't sure how Fraschkit would respond to Zuzette's challenge. I believed my friend was kind and compassionate, but I knew she could also be prideful and quick to anger.

Fraschkit's burning green gaze traveled around the room, from the uncomfortable humans to the offended Guardians, and then back to Zuzette. "And," she said, "Would you like milk or sugar with that?"

Breaths of disbelief traveled around the room, from humans and Guardians alike. Zuzette appeared just as taken aback as the rest, and her mouth opened several seconds before she managed a response.

"I...no." Her gaze dipped from Fraschkit's face to her broad shoulders and muscled arms. "I like it strong."

Was that a blush tinting Fraschkit's cheeks? She whipped around before I could be sure. Then the only sound was Fraschkit's retreating footsteps, the musical patter of hot liquid in a ceramic cup, and her footsteps approaching once more.

Fraschkit set the cut in front of Zuzette, who stared at it. Although any bystander would say Zuzette had won this face-off, the interaction oddly seemed to deflate her a little. She looked more confused than victorious.

"Thank you," she said, a little too quiet and a little too late.

Fraschkit tilted her head to acknowledge the gratitude before sitting back down, back straight and head held high. "Well, you heard the question." She turned toward the Sitaklasa servers. "Do you believe any humans here would like to fight?"

As before, Baggunt was the first to find his voice. "The humans here all trust the Guardians here to defend us, of course! But I..." He fingered the teacup he had set down. "I suppose I've heard a few villagers speak of such things."

"Then you'll ask them that, too," said Fraschkit. "Tell them that if Sitaklasa is attacked, they must hide underground unless they have both the skills and desire to defend this town alongside the Guardians."

When no one moved, Fraschkit snapped her fingers and nodded at the door. Baggunt gave the Guardians a brisk bow and headed toward the door. One by one, the rest of the Sitaklasa humans dropped whatever they were holding and followed him out.

After the door swung shut behind them, Fraschkit addressed the table once more. "It seems the rest of us have some training to do."

Fraschkit began delivering orders, and around the room, shoulders relaxed and heads nodded. When she finished giving general directions, Fraschkit turned toward me.

"Remgar, you will help me lead the training."