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Father’s final sketch had depicted a sword.

“When did Rheya refuse the trade deal?” I asked Keil, heart racing.

“Erik must have received her response a few days after Rose Season ended.”

My stomach plunged. Because I’d seen no indication of Erik’s failure during those days in the cell. On the contrary, the king had seemed victorious.

Keil inched closer, his frown deepening. “What are you thinking?”

“That by the time Rheya refused, Erik didn’t care about the trade deal, or about keeping Ansora in his debt. Because he’d already found the right answers.”

He’d practically told me as much with that victory cake.

Why are you celebrating? I’d asked.

Because I’m about to get everything I want.

“I think my father worked it out,” I said. “I think he realized that rejoining the Unbreakable Blade and the compass was the only way to destroy either of them. But also, the only way to truly use them.” My fingers shook around the compass. “Briar gave my father’s research to Erik. He read it while I was imprisoned.”

Keil’s face sank with understanding. “Which means he now knows that he needs the original blade for the compass to work.”

“The Unbreakable Blade is an ocean away from your king,” Raff said. “How would he even get his hands on it?”

Keil and I locked eyes, horror pervading the air between us. This was why Erik had extended a hand of friendship across the ocean: not to interfere with the Western War, but to exact his own agenda.

The Unbreakable Blade was sealed in Saxon’s tomb, Keil had said.

And although I knew the answer deep in my bones, I asked him now, stomach tumbling, “Where was Saxon buried?”

Keil’s eyes shuttered in confirmation before he said, “Banarrat.”

18

“For future reference,” Lye said, lounging horizontally on the plushest sofa in the morning room, “next time you call a group meeting, it wouldn’t hurt to put out some plates.”

Dashiel looked at him disapprovingly from the window seat, rain lashing the dayglass behind him. This was the only dayglass window in the house—embedded with the marigolds Keil’s parents had used for their wedding—and now, under a summer downpour, the sunlight created dappled rainbows through the golden petals.

“I don’t want much.” Lye raised his hands. “Just some candied walnuts and a few grapes. Or maybe those goat cheese parcels with the fresh—”

Osana groaned, slumping on the armrest behind Lye’s head. “Please tell us why we’re here before Lye writes a sonnet to a piecrust.”

Lye tipped his head back into her lap and grinned. “What an odd way to admit that you’re jealous of a piecrust.”

“You should go into comedy,” she said flatly.

He winked. “Oh, but I’d miss you too much.”

She jerked her thigh out from under his head, which only delighted him further.

“What’s this about?” snapped Goren, who’d started pacing thirty seconds after Keil and I had called the meeting.

I glanced skeptically at Keil, who raised his eyebrows as if to say, We need them.

I looked away, knowing he was right.

To destroy the compass, I would need the Unbreakable Blade. But now that Erik knew he couldn’t build his empire without the sword, he would be going after it too. He’d already tried closing in on it once, reaching out to Banarrat with claims of building friendship. But since Rheya’s agents had intercepted the general’s reply, Erik would believe he’d failed. So he’d be looking for another way to access the island.

Which meant I needed to get the blade first.