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Emilia shakes her head. “We can’t get to her. We should try to draw a circle here and get out while we can. We’ll come back⁠—”

“No!” Valen yells, panic pitching his voice high. I’m shoved onto my ass when he practically crawls into my lap and shakes me. “Save her! She’s going to die!”

“Fuck!” I snarl, bolting to stand and accidentally dumping Valen’s body at my feet. I whip my head back and forth and then look up. We can climb out, but we might be seen by the Order if they’re searching for a way in.

Emilia grips her brother and eyes the door as well. She looks down at Valen, then me, and back at Alasdair’s rotting body. She sighs heavily, head tilting back. “Fine! I’ll save your asses, but once Tori is out, you all come with me. Swear it. We all leave this doomed hell and run.”

Valen nods, and I say, “Works for me.”

She points to the roof. “Take my brother and get out through there. I’ll distract them. There shouldn’t be anyone else in the estate.” She stands, smoothing her dress like she isn’t covered in blood. “Once you’re up on the roof, release the door. I will handle the Order.”

I meet Valen’s gaze. He shakes his head and turns back to his sister, his voice scratchy and broken. “Emilia, don’t.”

She arches a brow. “You have no choice. You’re the only one who can heal her ripped-open body once she returns to it. Go. It will be easier without you, anyways.”

Fuck, Tor’s injury. I meet Valen’s gaze. “Can you heal her?”

He swallows, his eyes tight and complexion waxen. “I must. There’s no other alternative.”

“Good enough for me.” I grab Valen and throw him over my shoulder. He grunts at the impact, and my threads wrap around him to secure his limp body to mine.

His voice breaks when he reaches for his sister. “Emilia.”

She smirks when they clasp hands. “See you on the other side.”

Valen’s breath trembles, but there’s no time for a longer goodbye. I grab the wisteria that has snuck through the walls. My rings burn me, but not as badly as before now that they’ve gotten a chance to rest. I heave us both up to where the broken glass lines the stone, my threads protecting my hands and strengthening my muscles. It would be easier if I poured power into both, but I have no idea how powerful Alasdair’s curse still is now that he’s dead. I can’t risk using my magic now in case I need it later. My muscles are tired from fighting, and I groan when I drag us over the destroyed roof with trembling arms. Finally, we make it over, Emilia waving at us.

I salute her. “Good luck.” And I call my threads back.

Valen chokes on his breath when the door opens. I don’t wait, using my threads to jump from the roof of the temple.

Emilia’s voice rings out powerfully. “Your Archweaver and Heir are dead! Corrupted by their own foolishness. The Amur Guild’s leader is slaughtered in the estate. The humans are coming for vengeance, and we must be prepared. Go, return to strengthen your domains. War is at our doors!”

The rest of Emilia’s twisting of events to inspire compliance and fear is lost as I sprint through the gardens, backtracking the way we came.

CHAPTER 32

THE TAPESTRY OF MAGIC, THE WEAVE

ASTORIA

I have no plan. All I can do is run and try to keep from falling through the holes in the Tapestry. The queen is close behind, screaming her bloody vengeance. My heart pounds, and my eyes burn. I keep screaming for Jinx, but there is no answer.

A hand rips out from the Weave and grabs my foot. I hit the Tapestry and throw my fire forth. The hand releases with a screech, and I clamber back to standing.

I must keep going. I can’t stop. Valen and Lucas will get me out. They have to. Surely the curse keeping me in the statue is weakened without Alasdair or a grimoire powering it.

The Tapestry jerks, rippling. A fissure rips before me, widening more and more, a small army of the spidery creatures meticulously working along the edges with their many hands moving so fast that I cannot track them.

I exhale harshly, shivering as I behold the gap. It is a dark pit, like the one I threw my father’s shredded soul into. I could try to summon my wings to fly, but I am no longer an Heir. I don’t know if I can form them again.

Prickling awareness tingles up my spine. It’s too late.

I turn slowly to face the queen. She stares down at me with her too-many eyes glowing, her spinneret rippling with thousands of threads. Her limbs frame me. There’s nowhere to run.

She lifts a spindly leg with a shriek, bringing it down to crush me.

A roar rattles my teeth, and Jinx’s massive jaw clamps down on the limb, her momentum throwing the swing wide to crash into one of the spidery creatures working on the torn ledge. It falls off the Tapestry with a shriek. Jinx doesn’t let go even as the queen stumbles back, shaking her grotesque body.