The bodyguard leads us down the hallway, away from the chaos of the dining room.

“Miss Harlow!” A man runs toward us, and I’m instantly ready to shove Harlow behind me. I need this alliance to look real.

“Relax, that’s Arthur,” Harlow says. “He was Aidia’s bodyguard before she married Rafe.”

Arthur closes the distance between us. “Kellan is wounded.”

Harlow takes off behind him with surprising speed. We tear down the corridor. I can’t help but notice Harlow walked right by the rest of her wounded family in the dining room, but now she’s sprinting to get to Kellan. That’s valuable information.

When she rounds the corner ahead, she draws up short and throws an arm out to stop Gaven and me.

“Arthur, stop!” she shouts. But it’s too late.

The guard is several feet ahead of her. He goes rigid, shakes for a few seconds, and then collapses to the floor. Harlow drags him back from the invisible boundary and presses her fingers to his neck. I shouldn’t be surprised how casual the motion is for her, but it makes me wonder how often she checks a body for a pulse—or a lack of one. I suppose it makes sense if murder is one of her pastimes.

“He’s alive.”

“What is it?” Gaven asks, glancing down the hallway.

Her gaze tracks over something I can’t see. “It looks like some sort of trap from someone with a malice blessing. Do the rebels have⁠—”

“Magic,” Gaven offers. “Yes, your brother warned me there had been a few magical disturbances of late.”

Harlow scowls at him. “And you didn’t think to mention that to me?”

The guard crosses his arms. “So you’d be aware when you sneak out?”

“So I can warn your common ass,” she counters.

This is exactly why I need Harlow. Much as I might loathe her, I need her insights into her family, their blessing, and her ability to see magic. We can’t fight the Carrenwells blind. You can’t stop what you can’t see coming. The sooner I get her to trust me, the sooner I can set to unraveling her family’s power over the city.

“Can you undo whatever the trap is?” I ask.

Harlow shakes her head. “I don’t have holy fire to burn it away. We’d need my father or one of my siblings.”

Everyone knows Able has holy fire because he’s the heir, but she’s suggesting one of her other siblings has it too, and I can’t tell if it’s a bluff.

“If the rebels did this, it seems they’re trying to corral us in the dining room,” I say.

She nods before meeting Gaven’s eye. “We need to find Kellan, which means we need to show Henry.”

Gaven sighs and bends to drag Arthur away. Harlow wordlessly crosses the hall and pauses in front of what looks like a normal wood-paneled wall. She glances both ways down the hall and then presses into the molding. A hidden door swings open, and she waves me inside. Gaven grunts as he drags Arthur inside and lays him on the ground. Harlow follows with a quick glance over her shoulder before she presses the door closed.

There’s a soft scratch, and a match flickers to life. Harlow lights a candle. The narrow passage brightens.

Gaven glances down at Arthur. “He’ll be confused when he wakes up, but he’ll figure it out once he gets his bearings.”

Harlow steps over Arthur and leads us down the long corridor. It grows narrower before it dead ends. She hands Gaven the candle and presses her ear to the solid wall. After a moment of silence, she whispers something I can’t hear. Before my eyes, the wall goes transparent and the hallway comes into focus.

Harlow gasps. Across from where we wait, Kellan is sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood. Gaven grabs her arm before she can move. He blows out the candle and sets it on a table to the right of the opening, then whispers something and presses through the viscous barrier between us and the hallway.

Harlow takes my hand and whispers something that sounds like “Stellaria” before yanking me through the opening. The oily film of the barrier spills over me, and suddenly I’m in the hallway. I turn around. We stepped through a mirror—clearly some type of magic created by someone with a blessing from Divine Stellaria.

When I turn back, Harlow is kneeling next to her brother, smacking his cheek. “Kel, wake up.”

She tugs his shirt to the side, and the metallic scent of his blood hits me. The wound in his stomach is still bleeding, soaking through his white shirt.

Beside him, a rebel lies dead. The captain of the city guard got the best of this fight, but not by much.

“Fix him!” Harlow says, her panicked face turning up to mine. It’s the first time I’ve seen her look anything but completely in control. “Please, Henry.”

I stare down at her brother. His family may not have actually killed my sister, but they orchestrated her death all the same. I should let him die. It would be a fitting end for him to bleed out at the hand of the rebels.

But I have a job to do, and that would be short-sighted. Of all the members of this family, Kellan will know the most about the city’s defenses and his family’s weaknesses. And if he’s as important to Harlow as it seems, it might soften her toward me.

Kellan groans and blinks his eyes open. “Low.”

“You’re fine. Henry will fix it.” She looks at me expectantly. She trusts me—not completely, but with the health of the family member she came looking for first in the melee.

A loud crash sounds from somewhere down the hall.

“Libby?” Kellan groans.

Harlow shakes her head. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her.”

“I hid her in the safe room,” he says. “With Ames.”

Harlow’s shoulders relax. “I’ll find her once we get you up but take this as a sign to stop ditching your bodyguard.”

Kellan’s gaze darts over her shoulder. “Gaven.”

Pounding footsteps echo down the long hallway. I turn just in time to see several men round the corner.

Harlow stands, pushing me toward her brother. “Heal him. We will cover you.”

I want to argue with her. If she dies now, all of my planning will be for nothing. But there’s no time.

Kellan’s eyes narrow on me. “You have to decide now. If your magic is torn between protecting her and saving me, it won’t do either well. If you heal me, I can help.”

“If I heal you, you need to rest. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I focus on Kellan’s wound, pressing my magic into him. “It will hurt, but the itch is worse.”

He nods, and the tingling in my hands stretches out, stitching his wound back together. It’s deep, the blood vessels shredded and the pain of it bright and angry. It takes longer than I want it to.

Behind me, steel clashes and men groan. The sounds of a fight fill the air, but I can’t turn to look because the wound requires too much of my concentration.

Kellan winces, and I know the itching has hit. It’s just like the natural healing process, only the speed of magical healing makes it unbearably intense. He grits his teeth as his skin heals over, and he curls up into a sitting position.

“It will still be sore for a few days,” I say.

“Understood, but I’ll have to worry about that later. There’s more coming.” He rises to his feet, and I can see the moment of hesitation as he realizes I’m going to see his magic.

We were already aware of his blessing, but I’m thrilled with the chance to see it in action.

Gaven drives a dagger into the neck of one of the rebels, while Harlow spins and slides her blade between another’s ribs. Her movements are precise as she jerks the dagger free with ease and blocks the next attack in one smooth motion by grabbing the man’s wrist. She slices across his arm and shoves him toward Gaven to finish the job.

“Nice, Low,” Kellan says.

She smiles but doesn’t turn to look at him, keeping her gaze focused on the men at the end of the hallway.

The men freeze, noticing the leader of the city guard for the first time. One of them is holding a bottle with a rag jammed in the top. He’s about to light it, but his eyes go suddenly vacant. He drops the match, carefully sets the bottle to the side. One by one, he and his companions set down their weapons and lie face down on the floor.