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I fling out my palm. “No. More. News.” Every muscle in my body aches with exhaustion.

Rafe’s expression remains grim, but there’s something else. A hint of…vengeance? “You’re going to want to hear this. It’s not completely bad.”

He gestures, and two Tirenese soldiers drag forward a pair of figures in dark cloaks. Their hands are bound, and when they glance up, I note the star-marks crawling up their wrists that disappear.

Devoted.

“My informants spotted them chanting at the edge of the grove right before the trees started moving. Then kept an eye on them until we could arrive and arrest them.” Satisfaction radiates from Rafe. “Seems someone might know exactly what’s happening to our sacred sites.”

For the first time since the chaos began, a tiny spark of hope ignites within me.

Not much. Just enough to fan the embers of determination still burning in my chest. One enemy we can see is better than a thousand we can’t. And we have two of them.

Rafe shoves the two Devoted forward, allowing their robes to drag through the mud.

Even with blood trickling from the man’s split lip, my skin crawls when they smile. Like they know something we don’t. Their sparkling constellation marks serve as a subtle reminder of their devotion to Zeru.

My teeth clench. I’d like nothing more than to sear those marks right off their skin.

All around us, royal guards form a protective perimeter, their faces somber beneath their helmets. Farther down the slope, Agnar directs a group of earth elementals who continue to stabilize the area, their hands pressed to the ground as they channel magic into the soil. The earth still trembles occasionally beneath my feet, aftershocks from whatever the Devoted have done.

Sterling towers over the male prisoner, his presence commanding and cold. I recognize the stance well. Legs slightly apart, shoulders squared, chin lifted just enough to stare down his nose. He’s assessing the situation.

And looking as intimidating as hells.

I take my place beside him, and our shoulders nearly touch. Even in this moment of tension, I find comfort in his proximity. “Start talking.”

The male Devoted tilts his head up. A thin red line trickles from his split lip and disappears into the scruff of his beard. His head is shaved bare, including his eyebrows. When he smiles, he reveals red-stained teeth. “About what, Your Majesty?”

My jaw tightens. “What were you doing here?”

A muscle in Sterling’s neck tenses. The only indication he’s as pissed as I am. Inside my chest, fire magic throbs in time with my heartbeat, begging for release.

Should I brand the word Traitor on both their foreheads?

“We’re here to watch you flounder.” The Devoted man settles into the churned mud like it’s a throne. He possesses the soft hands of a nobleman. Or perhaps an accountant.

My own fingers curl into fists at my sides, nails digging into my palms. The pain helps center me and keeps the fire inside where it belongs.

For now.

Rafe lurches forward, radiating impatience. “Where are the scientist-priests?”

The Devoted woman lifts her brown gaze, her eyes unnervingly vacant. “Who?”

Yeah, time for a branding.

Sterling must sense the direction of my thoughts because his shoulder brushes mine in a subtle reminder to maintain my cool.

The male Devoted’s smile widens as he watches our exchange. “Or…maybe you’d rather know what happened in Kamor’s central square this morning?” His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “What about in Tír Ríoga’s temple district?”

An icy finger trails down my spine.

His female companion picks up the thread, her previously vacant eyes now alight with unhinged fervor. “Meridia’s central plains? The outreaches of the Northern Volox?”

Sterling shifts beside me. “What the fuck are you talking about?” His voice remains level, but I catch the undertone of worry.

“While you’ve been here playing with trees,” Baldy’s gaze sweeps across the grove and damaged village, “magic has become possible again. It will soon be returned to the world.”