Iree Nobelis wouldn’t tolerate being made into a fool.

The very fact that Atlin had left the scene alive betrayed her influence in her own capture. There was no reason for the rats to spare her unless they were actively working together.

Additionally, Atlin wouldn’t cooperate with the Ghurians unless she knew the truth about Sirpo. That meant Kingfisher had let her guard down and made a mistake, and that warranted punishment. She needed to be reminded where she was in the chain of authority, so Iree took her hand as punishment and then got back to Udara as fast as possible. Olyen had been easily convinced to ferry them there, under the impression that Atlin was in danger and with a beaten, unconscious Cerid in tow to fuel their anger.

Ariana had killed two Ghurians in that attack. The two-magic rat had fled under Shark and Iree's attacks once they were able to join forces. Gren Fall was the only one left.

Once Atlin and Fall were secured in cells within the Catacombs, Iree descended to its lowest floor. In the grotesque room of dolls and frills, Rhys was sitting huddled in a corner. He wasn’t restrained at all. Since his arms had been removed, he posed no threat.

Disappointingly, he shot her a glare. His resilience was surprising and clearly built on fuming rage. The usual words of guilt weren’t so effective now that she’d tricked him like this. That was fine. Iree never went into something this important without a plan.

“I’ve got your precious Dorothea in custody. She’s three floors up enduring interrogation as we speak. Don’t believe me? Just listen.”

In a few seconds, a scream reached them. Right on time, as Iree had directed her subordinates to start their cutting after exactly a minute had passed since she left them. It was unmistakably Atlin’s voice.

“How long do you think she’ll last?” Iree asked with a smirk. She drew something from her pocket and tossed it at Rhys. Sharee’s pin, which he’d so disgustingly gifted to that meddling bitch, hit his chest and bounced off to clatter to the floor.

The sheer horror on his face told her she’d won with this measure. Even if he wouldn’t do as Iree wanted in the name of Sharee, he’d do it to protect Atlin.

“I’ll make it simple. I won’t kill her if you do one little thing for me.”

“Stop,” he gasped. “Please stop. Please, finally, listen to me and stop!”

“That all depends on you. Every second you hesitate is another one she’s torn up.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “What do you want?”

Iree grinned, bending down and tilting his chin up to make him look her in the eyes. “All you have to do,” she said, “is say yes when the time comes.”

*

It hurt. It hurt. It hurt, and Dorothea was trying not to scream, but she couldn’t control how she reacted to the pain.

A knife had been inserted into her arm just under the skin and then dragged along, flaying her like a fish. The wound started at her wrist and was spreading as the blade carved up her forearm. It was six inches long when Iree came bounding up the stairs, wearing a triumphant grin.

“You can stop now. Cut her ankles loose.”

“Iree,” Dorothea gasped through frantic tears and labored breath, “don’t, we can—” She cut off with a shriek as Iree seized one of her wrists to prevent her from using her magic, then grabbed onto a bunch of hair with that same hand. Dorothea hit the floor hard, the chair she’d been strapped to clattering down with her. The stairs beat against her back and legs as Iree dragged her down through the room with cells, one of which held Gren’s inert form, then down to the doll room of the Catacombs.

“Hey, Rhys! Brought you a visitor!”

“Dorothea!” He started to rush closer, but Iree held up a hand and froze him.

“Sit.” She pointed to the bed, and he perched on the edge, watching them warily.

Dorothea grit her teeth, trying not to sob with pain and fear. Iree dragged her to Rhys’ feet, then hoisted her onto her own, keeping her injured arm in a death grip and displaying it to him.

“Now,” Iree began, chipper, “Rhys, I have a single question for you.”

He nodded, staring blankly ahead.

“Do you want to go back to the person you were six years ago, before Mom died?” she asked. “Do you want Atlin to reverse time on your body and change who you are?”

Dorothea went cold. It was something she’d never considered before, but Iree was absolutely, horribly correct to think it was possible. It used the same principle she herself had explained for healing a wound.

Rhys didn’t hesitate. “Yes,” he murmured. “Do it.”

“Before you try to give me a speech about friendship circles and hugging it out, Atlin, realize I’m doing this for his sake. Rhys wants to die, and you can save him this way. Would you really deny him happiness just for your own personal benefit? Letting him go can protect his life. So what’ll it be?” Iree asked calmly.

Those words were meant to manipulate her, trapping her with fake arguments that ignored the cruelty and selfishness of Iree’s actions. There was no way Iree would protect Rhys’ happiness if she went through with it. She’d keep using him until he broke.

“Kill me, torture me if you want. I’d rather die than do this to him,” Dorothea stated, soft and with utter conviction.

Flame flared up in Iree’s hand, Dorothea’s skin bubbling beneath her touch. “You’re going to do it,” she hissed.

“I won’t,” Dorothea snapped through tears.

“Fine. We’ll see how long you keep this up.” Iree looked at Rhys. “Just know this is your fault, for dragging her into this.”

Dorothea tried to refute, but Iree’s hand clamped over her mouth, threatening further burns. She could protest as much as she wanted, but Iree had her right where she wanted.

She was hauled back up the stairs and locked into a cell with her wrists chained to be level with her head on either side. In no uncertain terms, she had lost.

After Iree had turned the key, Dorothea spoke up weakly. “Why? You knew about the epidemic, you destroyed my home, you hurt so many people… Why?”

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Iree sighed as if she were dealing with a bratty child. “Why should I tell you? You’re only here right now because you’re foolish and weak-willed enough to think the world’s problems can be solved if we all just hold hands and talk about our feelings.” Her voice turned to ice. “You tried to come into our world playing by your rules, Atlin. As you can clearly see, that’s not going to work.” Then she called to the upper floors. “Bring Kingfisher in. I’m done for now.”

Everything to this point had been twisted to work out on Iree’s terms. So Dorothea had been doomed from the start because she was trying to force her views in a world that would never accept them? And wasn’t Dorothea being here proof of that? The stronger, more violent belief had won.

Ariana had come down the stairs. Over her shoulder, Dorothea saw that her eyes were trained on her feet. Her face was totally blank as she awaited further orders.

“Watch her to make sure she doesn’t try anything stupid. We still need her.” Iree went up the stairs two at a time, disappearing into a darkness Dorothea couldn’t see beyond.

“Ariana, your hand—”

“All I’m here to do is make sure you don’t hurt yourself. Just shut your mouth.”

What more did she have to lose by saying whatever she wanted? “You don’t have to answer any of my questions, but…” She tried to move her hands up or down a smidge, but they were totally locked in place. “Please let me heal you.”

Ariana’s shoulders started to tremble. “Are you…” Her voice was grated by rage. “Are you insane?! I helped capture you both, so why…!” She groaned with frustration and sat with her back to Dorothea’s; she could feel just a little warmth through what divided them. “You can look at anyone and see a shred of goodness, so you appoint yourself as the savior of all humankind and try to kindle that goodness, not caring about what’s been done. You’d forgive any monster if they gave you a good enough reason, wouldn’t you?”

“No. Even if it’s me, some things are unforgivable,” Dorothea said softly. She pressed closer, as much as she could. “Why did Iree do that to you?”

“If you managed to get as far as you did and know as much as you do, she knows it’s in part because I let you. So I got punished.”

“Ariana, please let me heal you,” she begged again. “Please. That’s too awful.”

“This is what I’m talking about. If Iree had asked me to kill you, don’t you know you’d be dead? You’ve lost. Your ideals won’t win out.”

Dorothea thought about the difference in Ariana now. She had never seemed like she’d let Iree make her do things she didn’t want to do. Ariana Kingfisher had given up. “What else happened?”

Ariana was so still that Dorothea could barely tell she was breathing. This heavy grief was familiar; she’d seen it in Gren too. “I killed my sister. I killed Pearlie. I thought…” Her head fell back, and she stared at the ceiling. “Don’t I deserve to be punished?”

“You don’t.”

“Seriously… You’re insane.” Ariana hugged her knees to her chest. “I snuck a read of the letter Iree’s mom gave her in all the chaos. And you know what? I don’t think it matters.”

“How could it not matter?” Dorothea demanded. “So many people died for a malicous lie!”

“The truth doesn’t bring anyone back. And it could happen again and again. It’s like you wrote in that journal of yours. There’ll always be another war. The lives lost here won’t matter centuries from now. Whoever wins or loses, lives or dies… We’re pretty stupid to think it has significance.”

“Ariana, please don’t say that…”

“I joined Iree because I wanted to believe none of that was true. I didn’t know what had been done. If I had, I… Well, that doesn’t matter. All I knew was that Iree was going to make a world without war, and I wanted that. I was willing to hold on to anything if it gave me a chance to live and live well, no matter how dirty my hands got.”

Her fist flew up to beat against the bars, rattling them against Dorothea and making her jump. “And now I learn it was all some kind of setup! But normal people can’t take back the things they’ve done, Dorothea, and not even you can change the whole world. I helped destroy Sirpo. I killed my own sister. I can’t turn away from that, so I can at least accept the punishment I deserve.”

“There has to be something we can do…” There just had to be, but Dorothea couldn’t think of a single way out.

“Just accept it’s over.” Ariana shook her head. “I’ll find someone else to watch you. This is no good.” She stood and approached the stairs. “I don’t know what else Iree has planned for you, but I’m washing my hands of it. Good luck.”

The silence her absence left was cold, lonely and filled with thoughts Dorothea couldn’t escape from. Were Shark and Cerid okay? How about Wesley? How could she possibly help Rhys now? What horrible things were they planning for Gren?

What if Ariana was right and there really wasn’t a point to anything?

*

“And that’s that,” Iree sighed from her place sitting on Cinder’s desk, legs waving in the air. “We have the Bittersweet Nightshade-user in custody and completely incapacitated. Atlin will break with torture. Then we can count on her cooperation.”

Cinder was looking out the window, studying the sky as the sun set. The faint colors were reflected in his eyes, pooling in their depths. Iree had never seen those eyes be anything but clear; he was always sure, never hesitating, not even in the face of the slaughter of five years ago.

“We need that magic to ensure the prosperity of our people,” he stated. “But ever allowing Miss Atlin to go free is dangerous, even if we think we’ve collared her.” He turned, smiling slightly. “Do you see the key distinction in that first statement, Miss Nobelis?”

“Sir?”

He chuckled. “Normally you’d have understood instantly. Maybe it’s because you’re a woman that you wouldn’t consider necessary measures like this.”

Was he suggesting…? “We need her magic. Not her specifically,” Iree realized. Because Atlin was the last of her line, Iree had considered her an irreplaceable asset. But Cinder was right; she could be replaced. If they were willing to treat Dorothea as a tool to create an heir of Eternal Rosemary they could raise into compliance, then Sacer’s future would be completely secure.

Cinder had made his decision. “I’ll find a suitable partner and we’ll get started tomorrow morning. Be present to help restrain her, and conclude your business with Rhys Tamlin as soon as possible so we can have your full focus moving forward.”

“Yes sir.” Iree rolled her neck to stretch it as she left the office. “Kingfisher,” she said as she entered the hall to find her waiting outside. “You’ll be coming with me. You couldn’t even bear to be in the same room as Atlin earlier, so prove your loyalty by facing this without complaint.” Or else, came the deadly implication.

Kingfisher just nodded. Iree was part satisfied and part disgusted to see her fall so low.

Leaving that sad, loyal dog behind, she stopped to take a breather in her office and reflect on how she had gotten here, so close to the end.

Iree’s mother had approached Cinder Creed with a certain proposition six years ago. Her aim was to create a world without war by eliminating Ghuria.

The magic inherent to the Nobelis family was called Datura Whispers. It was an annual magic that could create illusions in the mind of only one person at a time through touch. The illusions were up to the mind of the wielder, and it was hard to properly terrify someone without knowing them, so what use was it against the typical Ghurian soldier?

But, Sharee had reasoned back then, the mind of a child was more susceptible. If she targeted a child of Ghuria’s Fall family, what catastrophe might that unleash?

She and Cinder already knew that this magic coursing through Ghurian territory would easily divide the population by at least half, and the survivors would face harsh conditions due to their lands dying off. It would only work because Datura Whispers was special in that the illusions, once they had taken hold, lasted for a few minutes even if the wielder lost contact with the target.

Even if they died.

Sharee agreed to sacrifice herself, and the rest was simple. She went on a supposed diplomatic visit to Ghuria with a group of other brave souls who agreed to their own deaths. Using details from reconnaissance Cinder had gathered during his own previous visits, she located the Fall residence. She brought food and medicine as a sign of good will. The Falls let their guard down in the face of this beautiful, soft-spoken woman.

Iree hadn’t been there, and none of the Sacerians who’d gone that day lived to tell the tale. Still, she could surmise how it all went down.

The soldiers would make quick work of killing the parents so they wouldn’t interfere. Caught off guard, their deaths were quick and silent. If there were siblings, the youngest would have been chosen. Either that or Sharee would have picked the first one she reached while under the threat of Bittersweet Nightshade.

Either way, it was Gren Fall. Sharee took him into a world of illusion, of a nightmare far deeper than the one he was already living out. She had pushed and pushed his mind until it broke, and he released his magic in a tidal wave to fight back.

So came to be what Sacer called the epidemic.

Iree’s mother had died to start the war to end them all. If Iree didn’t create peace, then it would all be for nothing. She couldn’t live with that idea. She refused to.

Now, the commander smiled in the fact of her victory. Her mother’s spirit would know peace.