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“The Amber Forest is the home of the Verilissia, a sacred sisterhood of guardians that have watched over Ur-Durik for a thousand thousand years. Awaiting the five fae princes who will vanquish Ur-Durik when he rises. A little over twenty years ago, he breached the prison they had made for him. That was when we knew what had been foretold was coming true. When we knew we had been right to bring the five fae princes back. Ur-Durik is rising.”

“Five,” Rafus says. He cannot understand. There are not five. His sons total seven, but three of them are dead. And only three of the ones that live still are the bastard born children Karo told him would form this army. She had told him his true born children would not count. That only his sons born of sin against Zai could enact the rites.

Doroth Zain looks at Rafus with his calm grey eyes. “Let me explain,” he says. “You have sired five bastards. The first, the warrior.” He places a small brass sword on the table map. Beside Attar. “The thief,” he says, placing a brass hook beside the sword. “The fool,” a brass cat he places in the north of the Forest of Amber. “The magician,” a brass coin he places on the isle of Ulla. Finally he takes a brass hare. “And the scholar.” He places this final token in Attar.

“They must all come together. All of them. Including Tobi.”

Rafus’s heart starts to beat fast. Suddenly, he realises this is about more than Tobi’s safety. This is about…“Are you telling me that they are all safe. All alive?”

“One of your children is dead. Prince Endrew. But your children with Princess Ullinor do not concern us. They are not part of this.”

“But the others all live still?” Rafus points to the cat. “And this is Tobi. In the forest. The fool?”

Doroth Zain nods.

“And this is Lukas?” He points to the hook. “The thief?”

“This is Jemel.” He points to the hare. “The scholar.” Another nod.

“And this, this is Kerik. The magician.” Rafus points to the coin. As Doroth Zain gives him another nod, he says, “Then you believe Kerik still alive? You commended him to Zai?”

Doroth Zain nods. “Kerik is alive. He is on Ulla. With another of our allies.”

“Ulla?” Rafus is shocked. “That is one of the isles of the Fae. Is he safe?”

“He is at the Ice Court in Vylenor,” Doroth Zain says.

This is strange news, but Rafus has other concerns. He points to the brass sword. The first token Doroth Zain laid on the table. His hand is shaking. He can hardly bear to ask in case he has somehow misunderstood. “And this is Damon? Damon, my eldest son. He lives too?”

“He lives. He is in Attar.”

“Damon lives.” Rafus’s heart leaps. Could this be the truth? “I must go to Attar. I must see him.”

Doroth Zain does not reply. He looks past Rafus, to the chamber door behind him, as a familiar voice says, “No. There is no more time for that.”

Rafus turns to see his wife Karo. She stands in the doorway, serene as ever with her cropped dark hair and modest, loose fitting clothing. Two Brides of Zai stand behind her. She could be one of them. Rafus has often thought Karo might have been happier joining the brides than being wed to him. “Rafus you cannot go to Attar,” Karo says. “Ur-Durik’s plans cannot be stopped now. You have another duty.”

“My love,” Rafus says, rising from his chair. “I didn’t know you wanted to join me. You should have said so.” But of course Rafus would never have been so crude as to ask Karo to come with him to visit the mother of one of his bastard sons — to talk of the fate of one of his bastard sons.

And something in that realisation makes a dark thought occur to him. Each token on that map represents one of his sons. One of his sons, abandoned and abused by the Rose Court and the Azurian Empire. Damon: exiled into death, Lukas: branded a traitor, Kerik: forgotten, Jemel: a filthy secret, his true parentage unknown even to him. And Tobi: left to his fate in the hands of a forest king.

But no matter, because despite all of this, they are still alive. Doroth Zain and his perfect wife have been watching over them all this time. They are his grand army of bastards, fae princes, prophesied to save the world. And he, their father. The key to it all. He must help them. He is no longer part of the Rose Court, but he is a rich man. He has the Ivory Palace and a fine income from his lands in Northern Azuria. Atticul has his birthright. Ferra has Vindar. But what do the others have? Nothing. Only him.

“I want to join you,” Rafus says, turning away from Karo to look at Doroth Zain. “You have been watching my sons, helping them. I want to help them too. I will continue to play my part in your fight against this demon Ur-Durik. I will open the Ivory Palace to all of my sons and any of your people who wish to join us there.”

But Doroth Zain shakes his head sadly. “Rafus, your son Atticul has already petitioned the Rose Court to have the Ivory Palace granted to him as the Crown Prince. You will be lucky to have a small keep to your name by Mulcemona. The Rose Court do not take tantrums like yours lightly. They cannot be seen to reward anyone who steps out of line.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Rafus says. “Selim is my brother.”

“Markus was also Selim’s brother.”

Rafus swallows. “That was a very different situation.”

Behind Rafus, Karo speaks again. “You are not going to play a part in this Rafus. You have only one duty left to perform.”

Rafus turns back to his wife, Karo is holding a small pearl-handled dagger. Rafus looks at it. He cannot imagine what his wife would be doing with such a thing.

At the same moment the two Brides with Karo move, rounding Rafus to take hold of him, one on each arm. “Karo?” Rafus says, feeling a jolt of fear in his belly. “Karo?” he says again. “My love?” He struggles in the arms of the Brides. But he is an aging man, never a strong man. He cannot pull free. And Karo is gliding towards him with the dagger raised in her pale hand.