The only empty chair is to my left, so Kyol walks over and takes a seat. He's close enough that I can feel the slightest warming of the air and smell a hint of soap. He's wearing the same black pants he had on when he got here, but he's borrowed a shirt.

"Good," Lena says. "Now that you're here-"

"Before we speak," Kyol interrupts, his attention completely focused on me. "I would take you away from all of this, McKenzie. I'd make sure the fae never found you again. You'd never have to read another shadow." He touches the scar on my throat. "You'd never be hurt again."

A chaos luster zigzags down my neck, and my stomach clenches tight. It's disorienting, having my emotions pushed and pulled like this. I'd be happy with Kyol-I know I would. He's what I've always wanted.

I look at Aren. Edarratae careen through my stomach at the way he drapes himself in his chair. He may look all haphazard and careless, but there's a certain alertness, a certain readiness, to his posture. Behind that facade, he's watching me. There's a hint of tension in the skin around his eyes, almost as if he's bracing for a blow. I don't want to hurt him any more than I want to hurt Kyol.

"I've decided to help the rebellion." I slump down in my chair and stare at the table. I don't have to look at Kyol to know a dark cloud has moved in above him. I feel it settle about his shoulders, weighing him down in a torrent of sorrow. If he joins the rebellion, his betrayal of Atroth will be complete.

Lena unfolds a map of the Realm on the table. "The other Sidhe Tol. You know where they are."

I bite my lip through the heavy silence. Kyol's not just betraying his king; he's betraying his friend.

"Putting you on the throne will only start a new war," Kyol says.

My mood plummets. Of course, he's right. Atroth's supporters aren't going to go away just because Kyol throws his support behind Lena. Some will convert because they respect and trust him, but a significant number of the others will fight.

"I will make you my lord general," Lena says. "You'll decide how the war is fought. Any strategy you don't like, we won't implement. Any swordsman who serves in my court and doesn't live up to your standards, you'll have the authority to discharge. You will be able to go through the rolls of the current king's troops and decide which fae will be loyal to us and which fae will need to be sent away. I will listen to your counsel, Taltrayn."

With reluctance, I have to admit Lena's not just a pretty bitch; she's smart, too, and perceptive enough to see that Kyol's real issue is with Radath, not with his king. But Kyol's not concerned about titles. If he agrees to this, it will be because he decides it's in the Realm's best interest.

Kyol turns to me. "This is what you want?"

One last chance to walk away from all of this. God, I want to. My life would be so much simpler, so much better, if I walked away and let the fae deal with their own problems. And Kyol would walk away with me, for me, but I think a little part of him would die if he left the Realm with Radath commanding the king's swordsmen. Joining the rebellion is the best chance he has of getting rid of the lord general.

"It's the right thing to do," I say. For better or for worse, I've just sealed all of our fates.

TWENTY-EIGHT.

"THE SIDHE TOL are all in this world," Kyol says. Aren, whose chair is rocked onto its two back legs, levels out with a thud.

"No wonder we've never found them," Naito mutters. "We'll need to study the terrain. I'll get an atlas."

"How many are there?" Lena asks.

"The Tar Sidhe created twelve," Kyol responds, referring to the fae who ruled the provinces after the Duin Bregga, the war that wiped the locations of the Missing Gates from the minds of the fae. "But we've only found three. Radath will move his troops to secure them and to protect Atroth."

Aren's eyes narrow. "If he does that, their locations won't be secret anymore."

"He has no choice. He can't allow you to fissure into the king's bedchamber."

I don't move a muscle. I barely breathe because they're having a conversation and they don't look ready to kill each other.

Aren seems to weigh something over in his mind. "We have to assume Radath's already moved his people, then. That's a problem. We've never had enough fae to take on the Court when they're ready for us. We have even less now, and without surprise on our side . . ."

Naito returns, handing an atlas and pen to Kyol. "Mark the locations. Then I'll print out more detailed maps."

Kyol opens the book to the world map, then looks at me. "You drew him the map to the Sidhe Tol in Moldova?"

"It was the only way to get you out of Corrist."

I'm not sure how he feels about that. He's not mad. He's more . . . pensive?

"I don't regret it," he says quietly.

The memory of the Sidhe Cabred floods my mind. I can almost smell the sweet scent of the garden's flowers and hear the waterfall's soft rain. When I meet Kyol's eyes, I'm certain he's picturing it, too, the moonlight on our skin and the chaos lusters coiling around our bodies. There's something else in his expression, though. Regret? Maybe he's wishing he made love to me that night. I wished it for years.

I tear my gaze away from his.

"Radath has to protect all three Sidhe Tol," Lena says. "We only have to attack one."

"No," Aren says. "We need to keep their forces split as long as possible. We'll attack all three, then fissure to the Sidhe Tol we choose at a designated time."

"How many fae can you gather?" Kyol asks.

Aren shakes his head. "Not many."

"Just mark the Sidhe Tol," Lena says. "We'll decide where and how we'll attack later."

I scoot my chair closer to Kyol to help him read the countries and page numbers in the index. He tells me the countries the other two Sidhe Tol are in. Since I've never been to them and haven't seen the shadows of anyone who has, I can't draw a map to their locations. Kyol will have to imprint anchor-stones. That might take a while.

Well, it might take a while if he had thousands to imprint. I don't know how many fae Aren can scrounge up. He's staring off into space. Plotting, I presume. He's been in charge of the rebellion's offensives for almost three years. He'll come up with some way to pull this off.

I return my attention to the atlas. It takes less than five minutes to mark the approximate locations of the Sidhe Tol. When Kyol's finished, he pushes the atlas toward Aren.

"I think Montana is the best option," he says.

Aren doesn't so much as glance at the map. He's staring at Kelia, whose chair is so close to Naito's, she's practically sitting in his lap.

"I think you should contact your father," Aren says.

Kelia scowls. I told her Lord Raen's role in helping Naito escape. She listened, but didn't seem to care.

"My father-"

"Not your father," Aren cuts her off. "Yours."

Naito's eyebrows go up. "Mine?"

"The Court used the vigilantes to hurt us. We'll use them to hurt the Court."

"The vigilantes," Kyol says, his head tilted slightly.

Aren meets his gaze. "Yes. Giving them McKenzie's name almost got her killed."

When Kyol looks at me, there's a flicker of confusion in his eyes.

"They attacked us in Germany," I say. "They knew my name and used it to track my cell phone."

He shakes his head. "We've never contacted the vigilantes."

Aren lets out a caustic laugh.

"It was probably Radath," I say quickly, before this discussion turns into an argument. "I'm sure they'll go to the Sidhe Tol if Naito tips them off to its location."

"No," Naito says. "I don't want anything to do with my father."

Aren leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. "You don't have to see him. Just make a phone call. Give him the location of the gate and tell him fae will be there."

"He'll question my motivation."

"Tell him Kelia's left you for someone else."

Kelia makes a face at this, but says nothing.

"We'll find some other way," Naito grinds out.

"I can call him," I say.

Naito argues, but in the end, he has no choice except to agree. He gives me his father's phone number with the caveat that I can't call him from anywhere close by. He doesn't want Nakano to know where he lives. I think it's overkill, but Aren has Nalst fissure me to a pay phone in New York.

The call is short, partly because I don't want to say anything that will make Nakano suspicious, but mostly because I'm worried about Kyol and Aren being in the same room together. Within twenty minutes of arriving in New York, we're at the city's only gate. I don't realize the short turnaround time is a bad idea until Nalst takes me through the second fissure.

As soon as the In-Between releases me, I collapse to my knees in Naito's backyard and draw air into frozen lungs. Knives of ice slash my stomach to shreds. I cough, expecting to see blood splatter on the dew-covered grass, but Nalst lifts me back to my feet. He half drags, half carries me to the back door and shoves it open.

"Aren!"

By the time Aren reaches me, the world levels out. The sharp cramps in my stomach ease, leaving behind a dull ache and some queasiness.

Aren lays the back of his hand against my cheek. "Sidhe, you're cold. I should have made you drink the cabus. Can you walk?"

At my nod, he leads me to the kitchen table. Kyol is there, sitting with his back to the wall, watching me. I give him a smile to tell him I'm fine. His jaw clenches, but he returns his attention to the maps spread out before him. Lena is sitting to his left, studying the maps, too. Most of her hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, but she's left the front sections framing her face. With her head tilted downward, those honey gold locks brush the edge of the table.

Aren lowers me into the chair across from her, then continues on into the kitchen.

"Did you reach Nakano?" Lena asks without looking up.

I glance to my right at Naito, who's sitting with his arm draped around Kelia's shoulders. He toys with the name-cord braided into her hair and doesn't give any indication to show he's listening.

"Yeah," I say. "I couldn't tell if he believed me. He didn't say much."

Naito doesn't weigh in with an opinion. I guess it doesn't matter if the vigilantes show; Lena is planning on going through with this no matter what.

"McKenzie." Aren sits beside me, putting a fresh glass of cabus on the table. I didn't drink any of it before. I guess I should have. Because I'm feeling weak and shaky, I raise the glass to my lips, and tilt my head back.

I intend to down it without stopping for a breath, but I only manage two swallows before I gag. I swipe the back of my hand across my watering eyes. I'd rather chew on bitterbark for a week than take another sip.

"How's the plan coming?" I ask, a diversion designed to keep Aren from insisting I drink more. I'll finish the glass. Eventually.

Kyol's eyes meet mine, linger. When he glances at the cabus, I realize I must look awful-pale, probably-and I have the distinct feeling he wants to walk around the table and take me in his arms.

He doesn't, of course. His face expressionless, he turns to Aren and asks, "How many humans do you have working with you?"

"Five," he answers, matching Kyol's neutral tone. "Trev will bring back our other three. They're not shadow-readers, just humans with the Sight. We'll split them between the Sidhe Tol. The fae who attack in Montana will have to do with just one."

"You have six humans," I say, ignoring the tension between the two fae. I frown at the map in the center of the table. The Court will probably have three or four humans at each location. We'll still be at a disadvantage. "You can send me to Montana."

"We'll make do with who we have," Aren says.

"You need me-more than me, actually."

"No." His tone makes it sound as if everything is settled.

My knee-jerk reaction is to snap that he doesn't control me, but I manage to choke back the words. He's just trying to protect me. I get that.

"What if Radath or some of the king's other officers show up? You'll need shadow-readers at each Sidhe Tol to track them."

He pulls a map of Montana closer.

I turn to Kyol. "Tell him he needs me."

"You're in no shape for this, McKenzie." He says it so simply, so evenly, so goddamn gently.

"So both of you would rather be distracted by illusions? You want the rest of the rebels to be distracted by them? That's bullshit. Fewer fae will die if I'm there."

"I won't let Naito go if she doesn't," Kelia says.

Naito cocks an eyebrow at her.

She shrugs. "I won't. If they're going to make McKenzie stay home because they're worried about her getting hurt, then I'll make you stay home, too."

Naito just shakes his head with a smile, pulls her to him, and gives her a loving kiss on the forehead. "I'll still go, but we need the nalkin-shom. If Radath or the king's other officers are there, McKenzie can identify them. She can track them if they try to escape, and we do need the extra pair of eyes."

Kyol's fists clench on top of the table. It's a small sign of his anger, but from a man who's an expert at concealing his emotions, it's as significant as a bomb exploding.

"I'll be fine, Kyol."

He shakes his head. "Radath will order his men to target you."

"They . . ." Oh. That's what this is about. Radath knows how Kyol feels about me. He knows he can use me to get to the sword-master. I can't let that stop me from helping, though, so I scan the others at the table, trying to find some support or inspiration. My gaze rests on Naito, the only person here besides me who doesn't have edarratae flashing across his skin. "They won't know who I am."