They’re all former Court fae who served under Kyol. I’ve worked with Taber before, but not the other two, though I have met Brayan, the tall but stout fae standing to my left, once. He was one of the men guarding the storage room where Kyol was holding Naito and Evan, another shadow-reader, during the war. I haven’t seen him since then, but being with the three former Court fae makes this assignment seem so familiar, I almost feel like nothing has changed these past few weeks. Nothing, that is, except our target. We’re not hunting Aren anymore.

“We’re hunting Dyler, son of Jielan,” Kyol says when he joins us. The shadows from his extinguished fissure twist in the air behind him. Fae can’t see them. They don’t feel the itch to sketch out their peaks and valleys. They don’t need to know if the tiny swirl in the middle of the black haze puts us on the east or west side of the river that cuts through the city. I do, though, and my fingers tighten on the sketchbook in my hand. I wish I had the strapped sketchbook I packed in my suitcase, but this one will work, and it will take only a few seconds to slip the pencil from the spiral and draw what looks to be a marketplace just north of the swirl. If I—

“McKenzie.”

I blink. Kyol’s voice is firm, like he’s called my name more than once.

I give my head a little shake so I can focus on him and not the shadows dancing over his shoulder. In the last ten years, I’ve only tranced out a dozen times looking at them. Two of those times have been in the last week. I think sleep deprivation and constantly being on edge is finally getting to me.

“Are you sure you can do this?” His silver eyes don’t soften like they usually would with that question.

“I’m sure,” I say, keeping my voice neutral as well. We both know I’m the best person for this job. “You said we’re looking for…?”

“Jielan,” Kyol says.

I recognize the name. I read the shadows for him just a few months ago. We were looking for Aren in Jythkrila, but the rebels set a trap for us. For me, really. They’d killed and replaced the inspectors at the city’s gate. The inspectors’ job was to make sure the fae who used the gate paid taxes on the goods they took through it. They’d never approached me before, but one did that time. He feigned interest in the sketchbook I carried. By the time I realized something wasn’t right, he locked his hand around my wrist.

Jielan saved me from the rebels. They were my enemy then, so I was grateful. I thanked him. Now, I’m here to help Kyol capture or kill him.

“Up here,” Kyol says, motioning me toward a ladder. It’s only then that I really take in my surroundings. My impressions from the shadows were wrong. We’re nowhere near a marketplace. The ladder climbs up the side of a gray-and-black brick wall. The building is big, stretching more than fifty feet to either side of me. It’s plain, though, with a flat façade and what looks like a flat roof. My guess is it’s a bregorm, a stack house, which is basically the Realm’s equivalent of a UPS. Jaedric, wood, textiles, and other bulk items don’t just appear in merchants’ stores. They have to be brought there, and the fae who harvest or create them don’t have the time to fissure what they’re selling in small armloads to every merchant who might want them. So they bring them here, stacking them in their local bregorm, where other fae agree to the tedious job of hauling them to the nearest gate.

The stack house is the only building I can see. I don’t know what’s on its other side, but there’s nothing but an open field at our backs. It was near midnight in Corrist, but here, it’s maybe late afternoon, which means we’re a good ways to the east of the Silver Palace.

I grab the first rung of the ladder and start up, thinking maybe I’ll recognize the city when I have a better view. It’s close to a three-story climb, but I make it to the top quickly. As I pull myself onto the roof, I notice the thick band of silver edging the building. The metal prevents fae from fissuring up here or inside, but that’s not the only reason we emerged from the In-Between at the base of the ladder. One of Kyol’s swordsmen lies flat on his stomach on the far edge of the roof. His head is pointed away from us and tilted at an angle that presumably gives him a decent view of the door to the building that’s across the street. From where I’m crouched by the ladder, I can only see a roof and the top edge of a window. No one inside should be able to see me, but if we’d fissured directly up here, there’s a chance they might have seen the flash of light.

I stay low and let my gaze sweep across the rest of the area. We’re on the outskirts of a town. Most of the buildings are spread out, but a strip of structures built closely together is off to my far right. I’m guessing they’re stores of some kind, maybe with a few small residences scattered among them. The street they’re on snakes back and forth, and I think I was wrong about a river cutting through the city. That road is the wavy line I saw in the shadows.

“Is he still here?” Kyol asks in Fae, climbing onto the rooftop behind me. Taber and the other two fae remain on the ground below.

The swordsman lying on his stomach nods. His brown hair is cut short enough to see a black cord hanging around his neck. “Yes, lord general,” he says. “He and three others.”

Lord general. The title puts a bad taste in my mouth. I’m not used to Kyol being called that. I don’t think he fits the role. The previous fae who held that position was overbearing, arrogant, and in the end, cruel. Kyol isn’t any of those things.

To me, Kyol says, “The house is protected by silver. Jielan will most likely fissure as soon as he exits, but if he doesn’t, you’ll need to be ready to move.”

“There isn’t a back way out?”

“There is,” he answers, “but he doesn’t know we’re here. He has no reason to exit the other way.”

Staying low, I inch forward until I’m at the edge of the roof. Kyol does the same.

“Where are we?” I ask, moving the buckle of the belt Aren fastened around me so it’s not so uncomfortable to lie on. That moves the sheathed dagger a little more to the left on my back, but I can still reach it fairly easily.

“Spier,” Kyol says.

I stare at him without saying a word. Each of the Realm’s provinces has a capital city with a gate, but Spier is nowhere near any of them. And unless there’s a Missing Gate—a gate not on the public maps—that I don’t know about, the nearest place for me to safely fissure is half a day’s walk from here.

“I needed a shadow-reader,” Kyol says without looking at me. Usually, his tone would be apologetic—he always hated keeping me away from my human life—but it’s firm now, just as it should be. I never needed to be coddled, and as frustrating as it is to be stranded so far away from a gate, it’s good that I’m here. Jielan could lead us to the other remnants. He could lead us to Paige.

I open the notebook on the roof in front of me, taking the pencil out of the spine so that I’ll be completely ready when Jielan comes out. The quicker I sketch his shadows, the more accurate my map will be. I just hope we don’t have to kill him.

“There he is,” Kyol says sharply.

My gaze snaps to the front door. Jielan’s there, stepping outside without so much as a glance at his surroundings. He immediately disappears into a fissure. The light winks out, leaving behind a twist of shadows.