She still couldn't believe what had happened. That one moment they had been on the backfoot, about to die and lose all hope of resistance and the next Layla had been Singing, a strange woman beside her. Then the armada and wall of flame had crumbled to nothing, Silvera's guards had been destroyed and the islands had risen, and their people had risen up.

All over the twelve islands elves had fought together against their captors, inspired by the survival of their queen. By the time the rebels had arrived, bent on liberating the remaining eleven islands the people themselves had

done half the job. Only Nala hadn't been celebrating wildly when they took over Asriel and had Layla's coronation. Because there was still a job to be done. As long as Medea was still alive, they would never be safe.

Nala was going to Crimsith, the beating heart of the Kallian Empire, to take down its Empress by Lysandra's side. Only then would the war be over. Only then would she get to rest at last after decades of fighting against an unbeatable enemy.

The palace was crawling with security. There was no way in or out unless you were of royal blood. Medea would now only see her two children, fearing everyone else was a spy, an assassin. Even then she was covered head-to-toe in weapons, not to mention protected by shadow magic she always kept at the ready. For decades no one had ever managed to so much as come close to assassinating the Empress, even in the early days of her rule when her reign was not as stable as it was now. Even when the country was filled with hundreds of thousands of people who itched for her death and were willing to get their hands dirty to achieve it. Hundreds had tried. Their heads now adorned the castle gates.

Yet of course Lysandra had still failed to give her the details-or even, in fact, a vague idea-of her plan. Nothing but several assurances that it would work and mentions of working on it since she was eight years old, which she found frankly worryingly. What eight-year-old plotted to kill their mother?

Before she had had faith in Lysandra but as she boarded the ship to smuggle her into the Kallian Empire, she started to question the princess. Lysandra might have turned the tide of the war on multiple occasions, found intelligence that enabled dozens of priceless attacks and rescues and managed to manipulate the Empress into killing five of her most trusted children but maybe assassinating Medea herself was a little too much to ask of Lysandra. Nala suddenly found herself thinking back to all the failed assassination attempts of the past, some of which she herself had organised. That inevitably made her remember how the assassins had died-slowly, gruesomely and very, very publicly.

She shut down those thoughts as quickly as she could. If anyone could assassinate Medea, then it was Lysandra. And Lysandra wouldn't risk her life on some long-shot, desperate plan. Unless she's not planning on participating in this at all, Nala wondered miserably. Unless she's just sending in guinea pigs to see what works. That thought got shut down even faster. Lysandra wouldn't do that to her, not after all they'd been through together. Nala was as close to a friend as Lysandra could have.

Still, her thoughts haunted her throughout the journey to Kallias.

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Nala landed on the shore near Crimsith, waiting for Lysandra to arrive. She had promised to be along shortly and was now running late. What if something had gone wrong? Maybe Medea had figured out what Lysandra had been doing to help them for all these years. Maybe she's already dead and Medea was torturing her whilst she had been twiddling her thumbs, doubting whilst her friend was dying...

Just as she was thinking that, Lysandra sauntered up to her. Even with the cloak, hood and moonless night, Nala recognised her swagger immediately. What had caused her to be late?

"I was trying on shoes and lost track of time," Lysandra said, not sounding remotely sorry. Nala held back her groan. Of course. Lysandra walked quickly, leading her towards a forest.

"What's the plan?" she hissed, half-running to keep up with her.

"I'll tell you when we get there," Lysandra grumbled. "It's a surprise."

"This is an assassination attempt, Lysandra," Nala begged. "And if we fail, we get chopped up into tiny little pieces and spiked on the gate. It isn't a birthday party. Tell me now."

"What about what you just described isn't a birthday party?" Lysandra asked, sounding totally serious. "I haven't had this much fun since I snuck Myra and Layla out under my mother's nose."

"We're killing your mother," Nala replied. "How is that fun?"

"I'm not accepting that she's my mother until I see a birth certificate." Lysandra replied.

"You inherited her magic." Nala snapped. "What more proof do you need? Also, don't change the subject. Tell me what the plan is."

"Shush. You'll alert the guards." Nala was just about to slap Lysandra when she yanked her down into a tunnel.

"Where are we?" Nala demanded.

"Secret entrance to Dorgon," Lysandra whispered back.

"Why are we going to Dorgon?" Nala asked.

"Because Dorgon connects to the palace," Lysandra replied. "And we'll get straight past the guards there if we take this way."

"There are more guards in Dorgon!" Nala protested, momentarily forgetting to be silent.

"Not anymore," Lysandra replied. "When Myra and Layla escaped and she was...finished with Rose, she emptied Dorgon completely. There weren't many prisoners there anyway, but she killed anyone who was left. No one bothers with guards here anymore. They're busy defending the entrances to Crimsith and the palace. No one knows about the tunnel but Medea, Aaron and I." Nala smiled slightly. How had she ever doubted Lysandra's brilliance? Trust her to find the perfect passage into the Marble Palace.

Dorgon was exactly as she had imagined it. Nala thought of all the friends she had known who had ended up here. Lysandra squeezed her hand as though she could read her mind. She was relieved when they made it out and entered the abandoned halls of the palace.

"Keep your head down," Lysandra instructed. "Change into this and you'll look like a servant. That way you should be able to get into my

rooms unnoticed. No one's so much as allowed in my wing, so no one will find you there. We can figure things out once we've arrived."

Nala's heart was in her throat the whole time as they walked through the palace, but they made it through unscathed. Lysandra, as always, was completely unflappable. Once they made it to her quarters—a mini palace of their own—she had no time to marvel at the extensive collection of shoes, dresses and jewellery before Lysandra closed and locked the door.

"One of the witches is still alive."