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she thought she must be dreaming. She prayed that she wouldn’t wake up. Once she was sure she was awake, she thought the scent had been brought about by Eleanor’s dark magic. It reminded her of Dianthe, and she feared if she opened her eyes, Ransom would be standing there with her friend’s head dangling from his fingers. What a cruel trick to play on her. Remind her of a happy memory, then wake her and let her find she was still in hell with her wings rotting, hanging from a nail in the wall.

“Aborella?” a soft voice whispered to her.

Now she was hearing Dianthe. The smoky scent of dragon mixed with the lavender. Strange. She sniffed for Eleanor, but there was no new tang of blood and dark magic. Unable to resist any longer, she opened her eyes.

Dianthe and Sylas stood in front of her. Goddess, the illusion was good. Tears ran down her cheeks at the sight. Was this magic, or was she hallucinating? She couldn’t tell anymore what was real. Not for sure.

“I’m going to get you out of these chains,” the hallucination of Dianthe said. “Sylas, I need your help. Her waist is raw and her back…” Dianthe’s breath hitched. That’s exactly how the fairy would sound if she saw the raw meat that was her back.

“Are you real?” Aborella asked her. Dianthe looked real. Sweat beaded on her lip, and her eyes were terribly sad. Aborella wasn’t sure even the best magic could produce such a sophisticated likeness.

“Yes, Aborella. I’m here. We’re going to help you. We’re going to get you out of here.” Dianthe reached out and touched her face as Sylas broke the chain that held her to the wall, then went to work on the manacle welded around her middle.

They were real! She had to tell them—before Eleanor came back—she had to make sure Sylas and Dianthe knew how sorry she was.

“I tried to warn you,” Aborella rasped through parched lips. “I sent my bird, my familiar Abacus, with a note warning you that Eleanor’s spies had seen me in Everfield. But that snake Ransom shot her down. My message didn’t make it to you. He found it and then she suspected me.”

“It’s okay, Aborella.” Dianthe stroked the side of her face, her voice as soft as a feather. “There will be plenty of time for you to tell us more once we’re somewhere safe.”

“She knew I’d been in Everfield,” Aborella said again. “I didn’t know about the raid until after it happened. I didn’t see it coming. I think I was too close. I never told her your identity. She tortured me, but I didn’t tell.”

Sylas’s gray eyes met hers, and she thought she saw pity there. She didn’t deserve his pity. She’d done horrible things to the dragon. To all his siblings.

“I saw the orbs. I saw your mission. I tried to keep it from her, but…” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “My wings. She took my wings.” She saw Dianthe’s gaze dart to the wings shriveled and hanging on the wall across from her, and the horror she saw reflected in her eyes brought the trauma back in full. More tears slipped down her face. She was too weak to wipe them away.

“You had to tell her something.” Dianthe swept her tears away for her. It broke Aborella’s heart. So much undeserved kindness.

“I tried to lie. I tried to delay. Somehow she always knew. There was so much pain.”

“I understand,” Dianthe said.

This time Sylas spoke. “Your plan worked. She didn’t catch us, and we have the orbs.” The band around her waist finally broke, and Sylas tossed it to the side.

“Can you stand?” Dianthe asked. “Sylas will fly you out of here. We’ll go out the window.”

Aborella gave her best effort to get to her feet. In comparison to Dianthe’s, her arms and legs looked skeletal, and her normally purple skin had turned gray. She dismissed a swell of embarrassment at her appearance as she swayed on her feet. Overuse of magic, underfeeding, lack of light—they would have been a fatal combination for any fairy who didn’t have the benefit of a dragon’s tooth.

Sylas reached for her, but she held up a hand.

“Wait. There is something I must tell you. I know where the Paragonian orb is.” Aborella wanted to escape. She wanted to leave immediately, more than anything. But this was the only chance for the Defenders of the Goddess to get that orb, and she owed it to Sylas and his siblings to help them.

“Where?” Sylas asked.

She raised her eyebrows. “All this time, it was right under our feet. We had no idea. No one remembered the history. No one cared.”

Dianthe held her shoulders, steadying her. “What did you see?”

“The location wasn’t in my vision, but when I saw what it looked like, I remembered. It made me laugh actually. All that power… the key to the thing Eleanor wants the most… right under her feet.”

Sylas’s brow furrowed in agitation. “Where exactly is it, Aborella?”

Aborella laughed until she coughed from the effort. “It’s in the mosaic.”

“The mosaic in the veranda? Here in the palace?” Sylas exchanged glances with Dianthe at the revelation.

“The witch queen had quite a sense of humor. She bribed the artist commissioned to create the crest: a dragon wrapped around a fruit tree. If Eleanor had known the queen at all, she would have suspected she was behind the artwork. Medea, the witch queen of Darnuith, had met Tavyss, Eleanor’s brother and the true heir to the kingdom of Paragon, in the Garden of the Hesperides. The garden is known for its golden apples. All those years I stepped over her legacy, her last jab at Eleanor. The empress passes over it every day, never knowing that a piece of the key to what she seeks, what she has sought for hundreds of years, is right there for all to see.”

Now Sylas’s eyes widened, and Aborella felt the intensity of his

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