When I reentered the meeting room, Isalio was already halfway to the door, hands fisted and lip caught between his teeth. I forced a reassuring smile, but I apparently was not sufficiently convincing; he strode toward me to walk me to my seat, and as soon as we sat, he put his hand over mine beneath the table.

For a second, I grappled with competing impulses, and my hand lay stiff beneath his, not responding to the touch. It was embarrassing to be coddled this way, and it offended my Guardian sensibilities. But I knew Isalio had been equally humiliated when I was giving him support, and he had accepted it anyway.

And, fully selfishly, I didn't want to lose the skin contact. I had told him before that I needed him, but I had never needed him quite as much as I did now.

So I turned my hand upright to interlace our fingers.

When I refocused on what Fraschkit was saying, she was still giving everyone a recap, since I was apparently not the only new member at the table today. I had heard most of this news already from Isalio, but I appreciated the opportunity to refocus before the real discussion began—especially since the first person she invited to speak was the one I least expected.

Ranndu.

He had transformed, and it wasn't just the lifeforce from Isalio. He stood strong, his eyes blazed with determination, and his voice exuded confidence.

"First of all, that thing I was working on last meeting...I think I figured it out."

I shot a quizzical glance at Isalio—neither he nor Fraschkit had mentioned this—but he just nodded at Ranndu, fighting a smile. That hint of a smile meant Isalio was very excited about this, maybe as excited as Ranndu was, so I leaned forward and awaited his next words.

"Here's phase one of the experiment." Ranndu picked up a machine, a speaker of sorts, and plopped it on the table. "Guardians, I apologize in advance for this."

Isalio squeezed my fingers and sent me a jolt of lifeforce. I sent him a questioning glance, but because he could reply, Ranndu turned a knob on the machine.

A horrific sound split the air. The Guardians around me toppled out of their chairs and hit the ground, hands jammed over their ears. I was the only Guardian who remained seated, though I swayed a little and winced.

Ranndu switched off the sound. As the rest of the Guardians rose back up, disoriented and still rubbing their ears, Ranndu's eyes caught on me, and he cocked his head. Then his gaze moved to Isalio, and he gave a slow nod. Instead of questioning my very apparent difference in reaction, he continued to address the whole group.

"That's how the Sidabeast sounds, by my best approximation. Now, let's see if this helps."

He passed something out to each of the Guardians. When he dropped the gift in my palm, I studied it more closely: a pair of foam earplugs lined with concentric rubber circles. I pushed the plugs into my ears, and the other Guardians did the same.

Ranndu cranked the knob, harder than before, and I braced myself for the screech—but this time, there was no pain, and the Guardians all remained seated. I could still register the sound, but the shrillest edges had been sanded smooth. Perhaps even more surprisingly, when Ranndu spoke, I could hear him perfectly clearly even though my ears were still plugged and the noise machine was still turned to full blast.

"Ah, good, looks like it's working. How's everyone feeling?"

Around the table, Guardians gave bemused nods of approval. Ranndu switched off the machine, and a few Guardians reached up to take out the ear plugs, but Kardki slammed a fist on the table, startling them into stopping.

When everyone whipped around to stare at her, her cheeks reddened, and she cleared her throat before managing to speak.

"Keep the earplugs in until Ranndu tells you to take them out," Kardki commanded the rest of the Guardians. "Ranndu needs to see how the ear plugs will affect us if we have to wear them for a longer time."

Ranndu smiled at her. "Yeah, that would be great. Thanks, Ki."

Ki? Apparently I had missed a lot.

A Guardian I didn't recognize asked, "How did you know how to do any of this, Ranndu? That machine, these ear plugs...?"

Ranndu shrugged. "I used to do a lot of tinkering in my village, trying to fix problems. Of course, this one took a lot of guesswork. A special thank you to Kardki for allowing me to experiment on her in private earlier." He shot Kardki a shy smile.

Her eyes flared wide, and she choked out, "Just trying to help the team."

"Great work, Ranndu," said Fraschkit.

Manikbar snorted. "Yeah, great. But couldn't you have made these ear plugs a few days ago, before we lost half our team?"

Ranndu shrugged an apology. "I didn't know it was needed."

"And we Guardians never asked humans to help." That addition from Kardki, which drew attention to her—much more attention than she was probably used to as a quiet low-ranking Guardian. Her cheeks reddened, but she doubled down on her statement. "We always just assumed they had nothing to offer."

Ranndu's reply could have been for all Guardians, but he directed it straight to Kardki. "You also didn't know the Sidabeast existed."

Eranea blew a breath through her lips. "You would have known if you'd asked a Demon."

The Bazabeast nuzzled at her cheek, rat-like whiskers twitching and slimy torso wriggling, as if consoling her. It was hard to imagine that tiny critter was the same horrifying monster I had watched eat through the brains of several Demons in less than a minute.

"We had always assumed the Demons have nothing to offer us, too," I said. I nodded at Eranea, ostensibly addressing her, though I rubbed my thumb over Isalio's hand that still lay on my lap. "Now we know differently."

Eranea was unimpressed. "Well, it's too late now. The best among us have already been killed or captured."

"Right," said Manikbar. "It's too late. We barely stood a chance before, and we're down to less than half our previous Guardian army. We're down to trusting Demons."

Eranea hissed. "You're too late on trusting Demons. Those at the Mantle already recognized what Demons had to offer—"

"And what did you do with that knowledge?" Manikbar spat back. "You hid. You knew villages like mine were being destroyed, and you just kept hiding."

"So did the Guardians," said Eranea.

"At least the Guardians were planning an attack," said Manikbar. "Meanwhile, the so-called 'warriors' at the Mantle were just—"

"Living." This response came from Zuzette. "They were living; you were living; we were all just living. And we all made hard choices."

"Hard choices?" Eranea scoffed. "I left the Palace even knowing I was safest there, but you went out of your way to seek out the Palace, didn't you? You crawled over your dead comrades to seek out the most luxurious life you could find."

"Eranea, you can't say that," said Fraschkit. "You don't know what she's been through."

"And you do?"

Fraschkit shot a glance at Zuzette and swallowed. "I mean, I assume she—"

"You assume. Great. Well, I assume Bakvar needs me, and I'm starting to assume no one here has their shit together, so maybe I should just head to the Palace alone and try to—"

"Don't," I growled.

My unexpected first contribution to the meeting silenced everyone, even Eranea. Everyone looked at me, some worried, some surprised, some frightened, and all wondering what I would say next. Unfortunately, I had no idea what to say. I had told Fraschkit I was ready, and I was ready, if everything went according to my perfect vision of completing my father's vision. But already, people were veering off-course from that script, and my breaths were getting faster, and maybe I just needed to leave before I...

Isalio squeezed my hand that still lay on his lap and shot me a stream of lifeforce. The lifeforce he sent me helped, but the physical reminder of his presence did more.

I drew a deep breath. "We're all mad at someone, we've all made questionable choices, and... and we've all lost people." My voice choked, and I swallowed hard before continuing. "We can sit here blaming each other, but it won't bring anyone back, and it won't bring us any closer to defeating the Palace. The one thing we have over the Palace is our ability to work together. We aren't working together right now, but we can—and we have to. It's our only chance."

I expected an immediate rebuttal, but instead, seconds ticked by in silence. When Eranea broke the silence, her voice was legitimately questioning rather than derisive.

"Even together, how can we beat them? If we wait for them to attack again, we won't know when it's coming—and we might be too late to save the prisoners they took. But if we go to the Palace, we won't even be able to find a way in."

Just at that moment, the Duchess strutted into the chamber clutching a scroll in a fishnet-gloved hand, the Rogabeast trotting at her heels. "Apologies for my tardiness, but you can't rush true genius. I present to you: my newest creation."

She flipped out the scroll—a full map of the Palace grounds complete with arrows, circles, stick figures, and labels scrawled out over different features. I recognized the forcefield, the main entrance, the crow tree, the Revival, and the dungeon. The Duchess scanned the room, then snapped her fingers and pointed at Manikbar, her sharp red fingernail honing in on him like a sword.

"You there," she said to him. "Come here."

His heavy brow furrowed. "Am I supposed to take orders from a Demon now?"

"You're not taking orders from a Demon, dear. You're taking orders from the Duchess." Then she pointed to her side and raised an eyebrow at him expectantly.

He hissed an exhale, but to my surprise, he pushed to his feet and lumbered toward her.

She shoved the map at him. "Hold this up high so everyone can see, please."

When a bemused Manikbar did as she asked, the Duchess turned toward the rest of us and rubbed her hands together.

"Now then, please hold your applause until I'm finished speaking." Most of those seated exchanged skeptical glances, but the Duchess seemed not to notice any of it, lost in her own world of self-congratulation. "Humans, Guardians, and fellow Demon outcasts... I've found a way we can infiltrate the Palace."

For the next ten minutes, everyone listened in silence as the Duchess rattled off her plan, occasionally jabbing at a location on the map held by Manikbar. Little by little, the skepticism in the room tapered. Her idea lacked a number of important details, and everyone who joined the attack would require extensive training, but for the first time since my father's death, hope flickered bright in my chest.

Her plan could actually work.

When the Duchess finished speaking, Manikbar was the first to break the silence—he set down the map, gave the Duchess a begrudging nod, and to everyone's surprise, he clapped his hands. When the rest of us joined in the applause, the Duchess clucked her tongue and flicked her wrist in dismissal, but her smile stretched wide. Meanwhile the Rogabeast wiggled her spiky spine and swished her clubbed tail in celebration.

After that, we discussed the next steps. Fraschkit and the Duchess both thought that Isalio and I should lead the group in training. I was skeptical about my own ability to contribute, but I supported Isalio's involvement. Meanwhile, Isalio thought I should lead but opposed his own leadership even more vehemently than I opposed mine.

"No one here wants to follow my command," he told them.

We all agreed to shelve that conversation for now since there were other details that needed to be decided before we could train, such as who in the Mantle would join the attack.

Even so, I left the meeting in better spirits than I had been in for a week.

With the brightness in my chest came a flood of desire. Sheer unadulterated want filled my chest. I had promised Isalio would explore his fantasies as soon as he sent the Morgabeast away. Now we might finally have time to do so.

Isalio and I started back toward the chamber where we now stayed—the same room in which he had been a prisoner, though I now only rolled the stone over the entrance when we wanted privacy. As we drew near, I traced fingers down the side of his neck to test his mood.

Then I blinked at him in surprise.

His whole body was tense, his muscles clenching so hard that he trembled a little.

A wave of guilt sloshed through my gut, familiar yet new; I'd been flooded with guilt many times before, but I hadn't had the bandwidth for that emotion over the last few days.

"Isalio, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine," he claimed.

As if to prove his point, he expelled a slow exhale, and his neck muscles relaxed beneath my hand. But his skin was a little too hot and sticky, and beneath my thumb caressing his jawbone, I could still feel his heart beating way too fast.

My hand dropped to my side. "You're not fine. Even someone who doesn't know you would be able to tell that, and I know you."

"You have plenty of better things to worry about."

"You've had plenty of better things to worry about over the last four days, yet you've spent every spare minute listening to me."

He shot me a hard look. "There's no way I'd rather spend my time."

His eyes said he was serious, but even though we were no longer touching, I could easily see that he wasn't ok. His pale skin glimmered with sweat, and he was visibly shaking.

"Isalio, what's happening? How can I help?"

"I'm fine," he repeated, but when I shot him a glare, he amended it. "I'm just a little sick, maybe."

"Demons get sick?"

"Maybe—probably. Why wouldn't we?"

That statement just made me more worried. Clearly, he had never been sick before.

Focusing on the pulse of the First Guardian beneath my feet, I summoned all the power I could. Then I grabbed his hand and pushed lifeforce toward him.

He shot me a sad smile. "Remgar, not now, ok?"

With a sickening flip of my gut, I realized that he was still shaking.

"What do you mean, not now?" I demanded. "Why isn't my lifeforce helping?"

"I'm just sick, alright?"

"And lifeforce doesn't help with that?"

"Guess not."

"Then how can I help?" I demanded, desperately.

He shook his head and shrugged at the same time. That told me all I needed to know: he didn't know how to fix this either, and he was just as scared as I was. I opened my mouth to voice that concern, but he spoke before I could.

"I'm sorry, Remgar."

"Sorry for what?"

"I don't..." His teeth chattered a little, and he locked his jaw to stop the motion. "I don't know what's happening to me right now. I'm supposed to be here for you right now. You're not supposed to be worrying about me."

"Don't worry about that. You've already been here for me for four days."

"You've been here for me for much longer."

I shook my head. "This isn't a contest. You're here when I need you, and I'm here when I need you. That's the only way a relationship can work."

His lips twisted at one side, an ironic, whimsical kind of smile. "Does that mean we're in a relationship?"

I rolled my eyes. "I think that's obvious to literally everyone by now. Now please, just tell me how I can help you."

"Just sleep next to me again?" It was half suggestion and half plea.

"You don't have to ask for that." I wrapped an arm over him, stabilizing his shaking shoulders. "By now, that's just the default. Unless you tell me to leave, I'll always be here for you."

Then we reached the chamber. After Isalio had entered, I shoved the boulder back into place to give us privacy. When I lay down beside him, I shot him another stream of lifeforce and ran a hand through his hair, down his spine, and back up again, over and over. Gradually, his shaking stopped, and his breaths slowed. Then my own consciousness ebbed away.

***

I awoke drenched in sweat. That was the first thing I noticed, and the second thing I noticed was even more alarming.

None of the sweat was mine.

The shaking body pressed against me made me shake too, half from the residual movement and half from the sickening jolt of adrenaline.

"Isalio." Still fighting the sluggish, distorted panic of one trapped in a dream, I seized his shoulders. "Isalio!"

He whimpered, then muttered something indiscernible even with my Guardian hearing. When I squeezed his shoulders tighter, he whimpered again.

"Isalio, it's me, Remgar," I said. "I'm here. I got you. Wake up, please."

"No, no, no..." His eyes remained shut, but his eyelids flickered. "You can't have me..."

Cold terror crawled over my skin. "...Isa? We need you; I need you. I..." I love you. But even though I had already told my father, I was still too afraid to tell Isalio. What if he laughed? What if he went silent? Or what if the shock of hearing that statement made his condition even worse?

"L-let's j-just s-s-s..." He clamped his jaw shut to fight the stutter. "Let's sleep."

Even though his eyes were still shut, I shook my head vehemently. "No. Something's wrong, and I'm not going to sleep again until you tell me what's happening."

His eyes flicked open, and horror siphoned the air from my lungs.

Blood-red streaks zigzagged through the whites of his eyes—an uncanny resemblance to the Morgabeast's eyes.

"This isn't real," I whispered, willing this nightmare to disappear like the nightmare-beast I had faced in the Forest. "You're not really here. We already defeated you."

The response came from Isalio, but it sounded nothing like him, a slithery chuckle that spilled from his lips like oil spreading over clear waters.

"Oh, sweet, sweet Remgar... did you really think I would leave so easily?"