I spun toward Isalio. "Is that the Duchess?"

"I don't know, is it?"

"You know her better."

"But I can't fucking see!"

I blew out a breath. "Ok, right. There's a small scaly beast leading the way, and whoever is steering the ship has silver hair and...wait, what is she doing?" As the ship sailed closer, I could clearly recognize the Duchess, which would have been a relief except that I could also see what she was doing. "Oh fuck, what is that thing they are pointing at us?"

"...I still can't see."

"It's a metal rod covered with light."

"Oh. An electric blaster."

"A what?"

He shoved me sideways.

The shove threw me off-balance, both physically and mentally, but I recovered quickly. My mind whirred, calculating the best next action. I could try to wave off the attack, but she probably still couldn't see us well enough. And if Isalio was shoving me out of the way, he knew the blaster had a narrow focus.

I tackled Isalio forward.

Zap.

The surge of electricity rattled my eardrums and flung sand into the air from behind me, a spray of tiny pebbles that burned my skin. Struggling to focus through the tinny ringing in my ears, I wheeled toward Isalio, who was unharmed and staring back at me. Behind us, the spray of sand had hollowed out a person-sized crater, and electricity still sizzled across the ground.

Isalio's lips moved. My eardrums were still vibrating from the explosion, but based on his clenched jaw and furrowed brow, he was angry at me. I was twice as angry at him—he had known what was coming, and he'd pushed me aside instead of trying to save both of us?

However, we didn't have time to discuss what had just happened, so I whipped back toward the flying ship.

The beast in front nosedived, and the ship behind it followed suit. My heartrate spiked—then settled, upon noticing one other important detail. The blaster had been tugged back to an upright position.

The Duchess now leaned over the front of the ship, peering down at us. I hoped that meant she now realized who we were. As the ship drew nearer, I registered more details: the tattered garb of the Demons onboard, the dents in the metal, the water-damaged ripple of the wood, the holes in the sails.

"It's an old ship, and badly damaged," I told Isalio. "It was probably already decommissioned."

But he just stared at the figure at the helm, and his eyes burned bright. "It's the Duchess." He sounded cautiously delighted—and painfully hopeful. "She came for me. Don't you think? Or am I just being too..." He blew out an uneven laugh.

My heart clenched. I prayed, not for the first time, that someone other than me would support this man who so badly needed allies. Forgetting my earlier anger, I took a step toward him and laced my fingers with his.

"I think you're right," I said.

Still, I couldn't help wondering why the Duchess had fired at us even though she was the one who sent us here. So I thought but didn't say: But if you're wrong, I'll still be here. And if they want to hurt you, they'll have to get past me.

However, the first attack came faster than either of us expected.

Something crashed into Isalio, bowling him over and ripping his hand out of mine. I seized my mace and spun toward the attacker—only to let the mace fall back to my side.

Isalio was laughing.

The Rogabeast now pinned him to the ground, stomping around him with jittery excitement, sending sand flying. Her tongue flapped right over her sharp teeth to lap at his face, neck, and hands. He guffawed in protest and flung his hands up to protect himself as her slobber coated him, but his laughter never stopped.

And his smile was as big as I had ever seen it.

As I watched him, I realized I was grinning, too. As he soaked in the Rogabeast's aggressive love, I soaked in the sight. I had seen him near death and jittery on power, but I had never seen him looking quite this...

This, what? Handsome? Sexy? No, he looked handsomest in his suit with a mysterious half-smile, and he looked sexiest when his desire for me incinerated all his other thoughts.

But beautiful. Laughing like that, he looked so beautiful.

The ship thumped the ground.

Sand crunched, then rippled away like waves, making way for the massive vessel. Isalio and I both startled. He pushed the Rogabeast off of himself and clambered to his feet, regaining some of his usual indifferent composure.

When the ship stopped, we tipped our heads back to see the figure who stared down at us from the helm, a dozen feet off the ground, silhouetted by the setting sun. The Duchess.

Casually, she hopped off the front of the ship.

Her hair flung upward from the motion as she dropped. As she hit the sand, she dropped into a squat—then pushed up to standing, brushed the sand from her leather pants, and pulled back her shoulders.

"Well, fancy meeting you here," she said to us. "I take back all the cursing I did a minute ago when the blaster missed."

I scowled at her. "You could have hit Isalio."

She flicked a fishnet-clad wrist. "Oh, the blaster wouldn't have hurt him."

I spun toward Isalio. "Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I was trying to!"

"You told me after it already happened."

"You should have known when I pushed you out of the way."

"Isalio, that didn't tell me shit," I said, "Because I still don't trust you not to hurt yourself."

He rolled his eyes. "For the record, I had multiple chances to impale myself on a stalagmite, and I didn't do it."

"Yeah, but only because it wouldn't have helped me in any way. If it would have helped me—"

"He would have done it," the Duchess finished.

Isalio whirled toward her. "You're on his side now?"

She shrugged. "I'm on your side, even if you're not. So yes, I'm on his side."

He blasted her with a glare. "But you fired a blaster at him, and he is not immune!"

She waved a dismissive hand. "Obviously, I didn't mean to fire at Remgar. When I saw two figures standing right outside the forest, I certainly didn't expect it to be—well, why are you two here?"

Wrongness pinched my gut. "You didn't send us here?"

"Why in Dominion's name would I do that?"

Isalio blew out a sigh. "You didn't talk to Borgal."

"I don't think I've ever exchanged a word with him."

I ground my teeth. That fucking traitor. I had never fully trusted him this time—I'd only decided we had no better option. But why would someone else at the Palace have wanted Isalio to venture to the Forest of Lost Beasts? Possibilities raced through my mind, each scarier than the last. Had the Palace hoped their High Prince would die in the forest, or that he would fall fully under the Morgabeast's control?

Or, most terrifying of all...had they hoped for exactly what had happened?

"If you didn't know we were here, then why are you here?" Isalio asked the Duchess.

"Well, first, I saw the Demon army leaving the Palace, including the General. He rarely sends the whole army, and he never goes himself, so I thought the Palace must know where to find Isalio. So, I gathered a crew of Demons who are loyal to me, and I stole this ship. Took me a bit of time, unfortunately, so we couldn't follow the army's trail. Then Rogabeast wanted to take the lead, and she brought us here."

"Duchess, that's...that's a full-scale rebellion against the throne."

"Well it was supposed to be, but currently I'm just chit-chatting with my nephew outside this lovely forest. Now, what about you? Why are you here?"

Isalio began to explain what had happened since we left the dungeon. He skipped over many parts, especially his own heroics. He didn't tell her about his newfound ability to give lifeforce, or how he had saved Andradkut and Ranndu. Still, I forced myself not to interrupt him. There would be time for that later—I hoped—and right now, we needed to relay information quickly.

When Isalio finished speaking, the Duchess blew out a weary breath. "So, the Morgabeast is either gone or more dangerous than ever."

Isalio shrugged and nodded.

"And the Palace found your secret hideout, and the Guardian leader is there now too."

He nodded again.

"Well, this is bad. Very bad. And worst of all, I didn't even bring any zaikut." When Isalio scowled at her, she continued. "And the other worst part is, the Queen's Sidabeast has been missing for over a week. I saw Danif having private conversations with the Queen, so now I'm sure the two of them were plotting to use the Sidabeast to find you."

"Use it, how?" I asked. "Does it have some kind of tracking powers?"

"No, but it can easily hide in someone's pocket. Did anyone new enter your secret hideout recently?"

That question was painfully easy to answer. "Borgal. But the crew who brought him in claimed they searched him well, and they even made him change his clothing. So how could the Sidabeast..." With a chill, I remembered the bulge and wiggle of Borgal's gut. "Could it survive inside someone's belly?"

"Probably—there isn't much that tiny fucker can't do. It can summon the Scouts to it so the Palace ships can follow the Scouts, and its howl can disable your whole Guardian team so the Palace can easily take them all captive."

The Rogabeast yawned loudly, exposing rows of razor-sharp teeth, and then settled her snout on her front legs, apparently unimpressed by all of this.

The Duchess nodded at her beast. "Right, we're taking too long." She looked back at me and Isalio. "We better get to that secret hideout fast. Do you know the way?"

I shook my head. "Not without a warper programmed with the Mantle's location."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Wait, the Mantle? Your secret hideout is the Mantle?"

"You've heard of it?"

"I lived there for a year, when Isalio asked me to leave the Palace. "I think I can get us there. So, hop on board, boys!"

Isalio and I exchanged a shocked glance. But before we could ask any more questions, the Duchess spun on her heel and strutted toward her commandeered ship. With a shrug, Isalio followed her, and I followed him.

As we reached the top of the ladder, everyone on board swiveled toward us—Demons in mismatched eccentric garb, many clearly not in prime physical form and a few reeking of zaikut. Some balked at their proximity to the High Prince, but none of them bowed. Instead, they all turned toward me.

Their eyes bored into me, and they sniffed the air like wolves scenting a prey.

Isalio clamped a hand over my wrist, pulled me behind him, and lifted his palm toward the rest of the Demons in warning. Electricity crackled over his raised hand and then sizzled over the rest of him. His fingers on my wrist burned uncomfortably hot.

"Stay away from him," he warned everyone in a growl.

Most of the Demons ducked their heads an inch, murmuring, "Yes, High Prince," though their eyes flickered with contempt. And one Demon didn't ever bother pretending—an older man with a wispy gray mustache smirked at Isalio.

"Right, right." The man bared his teeth and bent in a shallow dip, a mockery of a bow. "We all heard you back at the Revival: he's your cow, and no one else is allowed to touch him."

Isalio tensed, and for a second, I was afraid he would blast this man to the ground like he had done to the Farmer back at the Revival. I hummed a low warning to him. We couldn't afford to divide the team further.

But Isalio did not lash out; he did something that surprised me much more.

"It's true that no one is allowed to touch him," he said, "But the other part was not true. He's not a cow, and he doesn't belong to me." He glanced over his shoulder at me and dropped my wrist to grab my hand before turning back to the Demons. "I belong to him."

The declaration made my heart beat a little faster, but it also made me frown. He had belonged to the General, and I never wanted anyone to hold that much power over him again. So while I of course didn't want to be a cow, if Isalio was going to belong to me, I wanted to belong to him, too.

Before any of us could respond to Isalio's bizarre statement, he decided to prove his point. He shoved lifeforce toward me.

Electricity streamed from his hand into mine, raw power surged through my veins, and warmth tingled over my skin. I had experienced this feeling enough times by now that without even looking down I already knew I was glowing. The reactions of the Demons confirmed it; everyone except Isalio stared at my chest. Some gasped and stumbled backward, while others cocked their heads thoughtfully.

Meanwhile, the Duchess grinned so hard her cheeks scrunched. Her boots clicked on the wooden panels of the ship as she strode toward us. When she reached Isalio, she yanked him in for a hug.

He grunted in surprise, and pink tinged his cheeks. He was a head taller than her now, which seemed to strike both of them as awkward. I wondered if this was the first hug she had given him since he had become an adult—since everything changed. This bear hug from the Duchess probably negated whatever fear Isalio had instilled in the crew, but he didn't pull away.

She clapped the back of his head, forced his face down into her shoulder, and whispered in his ear. My Guardian hearing allowed me to catch every word.

"I was wrong about you," she told him, "And I never should have left."

He clucked his tongue and muttered back, "It was my fault. I forced you to leave."

"Dearest Isalio, you should know by now...no one can force me to do anything."

Before he could respond to that, she clapped the back of his head once more and turned toward the still-watching crew.

"Chop, chop! Positions, everyone! Let's get this ship in the air."