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“Then no one will attempt it,” Theron says.

Kelaros doesn’t argue. “It may fade once the court is laid to rest.”

Nyctarian moves away from us to consider the mirrors. “Kelaros’s indiscretion has left us with few choices. The Opal Court survived its King. Its rift remains open.”

Kelaros receives the full force of Nyctarian’s displeasure. “And now representatives of two sithes have formally acknowledged both.”

Kelaros has the good sense not to respond.

Theron’s jaw tightens. “Which means we are bound to act.”

Nyctarian turns toward him in a swirl of shadow. “The rift can no longer remain hidden without exposing our deception. Before the other courts arrive to investigate, duty requires us to lay the court to rest and make every effort to contain the breach. We may not possess the strength to seal it alone, but no king worthy of his sithe would stand idle while waiting for those who do.”

Theron turns statue still. “With my brother still inside.”

Nyctarian grants him the point. “Which complicates what would otherwise be a simple solution.”

A chill crawls over my skin. “Meaning?”

Theron answers before Nyctarian can. “If Prince Elionn were not inside, there would be no reason to enter at all. We would seal the rift from this side and leave what remains of the court to die behind it.”

My nails dig crescents into my palm. “But we can’t with Elionn trapped in there.”

“We could,” Theron counters, then continues before I can protest. “But this knowledge of the hollow stag changes things. Closing the rift will not solve the larger problem.”

Nyctarian’s fingernails click together once. “And if we must kill the stag to seal the rift, then why not save the Silver Prince at the same time? Strip the court of what it needs to sustain itself and close the breach once you return.”

“I have more experience with the court’s pathways than anyone,” Kelaros says. “I should lead the return.”

“You already demonstrated your commitment to my brother’s welfare,” Theron says, contempt sharpening every syllable. “Forgive me if I prefer other arrangements.”

Kelaros bows his head in false contrition. “My actions were regrettable but necessary. If the hollow stag is left alive, then even if we seal this rift, the Opal Court could open another somewhere else, and the cycle continues.”

“You weren’t thinking of the safety of the realm when you shoved Prince Elionn into that cocoon,” I snap. “You were only thinking of yourself.”

His attention settles on me. “The instinct to survive runs in the family, cousin.”

My dagger clears its sheath by an inch.

Nyctarian raises one hand. “Enough.”

The word falls with such power that the shadows shudder.

“We gain nothing by sending either of you into the rift alone,” Nyctarian continues. “You both survived the court. You both faced its dangers. You will both return.”

My stomach twists, while the fragment gives a cold pulse. “Together?”

Nyctarian’s amusement is immediate. “Try not to stab him until after the stag is dealt with.”

“No promises.”

A poorly disguised cough comes from Thalindor.

Kelaros ignores me. “If we are to hunt our way through a court that changes its own paths, we will require Black’Thorn.”

Nyctarian goes still.

Theron catches the sudden tension. “Black’Thorn?”