“I am to see you safely home.”

“You—you’re going to walk down the street like that?” I suck in a shiver through my teeth. I’ve spent so long in woolen cloaks and fur-lined jackets that I’ve forgotten the life I left behind.

“I will keep out of sight.” He unfastens his cloak and sweeps it around my shoulders. His fingers swiftly work the buckle at my shoulder. “You are not dressed for this weather, my lady.”

“I’m not ‘my lady’ here,” I say. “I’m just Harper.”

“You are far more than just Harper, regardless of location.”

“Grey …” But my voice trails off. Nothing I can say seems sufficient.

I am dooming him. I am dooming Rhen.

I am possibly dooming all of Emberfall.

I clench my eyes closed. “Grey … I’m so—so—”

“Time grows short and I must return.”

“Right.” I press my hands to my cheeks and take a deep breath. My fingers slide over the smooth scar on my face, and I drop my hands. “Sorry. Let’s go.”

He clings to the darkness so effectively that I barely know he’s there. It’s as if I walk the streets of DC alone, my boots making a small scuffling sound as my uneven steps scrape along the pavement. Grey’s cloak hangs heavy from my shoulders.

Every step is a reminder of Rhen’s words about choice.

I feel so certain I’m making the wrong one, but I cannot abandon Jake to whatever Barry is going to do to him.

At the corner of D Street and Sixth Avenue, I stop. My building stands across the street. Only one apartment has a lit window.

My family’s. Mine, though it doesn’t feel like it anymore.

I step into the shadow of a store awning, and Grey comes to my side. We’re sandwiched between two glass display windows, close enough for me to feel his warmth.

I point across the street at the lit window. “That’s my family’s apartment.”

He nods. “As you say.”

I stare up at him. His eyes are cool and dark.

“Scary Grey,” I whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

His stoic countenance cracks a little. He sighs and touches a finger to my chin, then gives me a sad smile. “A princess should not apologize to a—”

I launch myself forward and hug him. In a way, it’s like hugging a brick wall, but his arms come around my back and he sighs, his breath brushing over my hair.

I suddenly want him to take me back to Rhen and Emberfall and the people who have so quickly lodged themselves into my heart.

That lone lighted window across the streets taunts me.

If I stay, I’ll never see Grey again. I’ll never see Rhen.

He pulls away before I’m ready, but his thumb brushes the tears off my cheek. “If the choice were up to me,” Grey says, “I would have trapped you in Emberfall.”

“I know that. You think I don’t know that?”

“Your family would have suffered,” he says evenly. “You likely would have watched it happen, if Lilith had her way.” A pause. “And you would never have forgiven me.”

There’s something stabilizing in that statement. To know this was no easy choice on anyone’s side.

“I would see you truly home,” he says, “if you wish.” He glances across the street, his expression as vigilant as it is when he guards Rhen.

I imagine him striding through the hallway of my apartment building, sword hanging at his side. The elderly woman at the end of the hall who lives on social security would probably take one look at him and have a heart attack.

“I’m not in danger now,” I say. “At least I don’t think so. My family has a reprieve until morning.”

Grey gives me a level look. Then he unbuckles the knife-lined bracer from one of his forearms.

“What are you doing?” I say.

He reaches out to take my hand, then pushes back the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “I have no coins or jewels to leave you with.” The barest hint of a smile. “But I do have weapons.”

“Grey.” I swallow. “These are yours.”

“I have more.” He buckles the leather onto my arm, pulling the straps as tight as possible to make them fit—though they’re still a bit loose. Then he unbuckles his other bracer and does the same with my other arm. When he’s done, he pulls my sleeves down to cover them. The weight of the knives and leather hangs heavy against the edge of my hands, but it’s a good weight. Reassuring.

“Far more effective than an iron bar,” he says.

I blush. “I did all right.”

“Indeed you did.”

Another tear slips down my cheek. “Grey.”

He steps back, allowing some space between us. “My lady.”

My pulse kicks. “Wait.”

“I have been ordered to return quickly,” Grey says.

“Okay.” I swallow my tears, but then I throw up a hand. “Wait! Wait.”

Now he sighs.

“Come back,” I say quickly. “Can you come back?”

I’ve never seen Grey look so startled. “My lady?”

“I need—I need to see my mother. I need to save my brother. But you—you can come back now, can’t you?”

He’s staring at me as if I’m trying to trick him somehow.

“Twenty-four hours,” I say. “Can you come back in twenty-four hours? Right here?”

“For what purpose?”

My voice falters. I’m not entirely sure. Too much is up in the air, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to save my family at all. I don’t know if I’ll be able to break Rhen’s curse. But I know I can’t end this all right here, right now. “To bring me back to Emberfall.” I swallow. “Lilith said you can go back and forth now, right? Please, Grey. I just—I need time to help my family. Please.”

His expression doesn’t change, but I can see him weighing the different outcomes of this.

“You know the truth,” he says. “Of what he will become. And still you ask to return?”

“I don’t know the truth,” I whisper. “But I want to try.”

“Midnight,” he says. “One day hence. I will wait here. Fifteen minutes. No longer.” He pauses. “I will not give him false hope.”

With a start, I realize he expects that I won’t show. “I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting.”

He nods, then his eyes flick to the window across the street. “Your time grows short, my lady.”

“I know.” I draw a ragged breath. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

My voice lilts up at the end, almost a question.

“Yes,” he says. “I will return.”

“For the good of Emberfall,” I say hopefully.

That makes him smile, a shadow of Grey’s true nature peeking through. “For the good of all.”

He takes a step back, and with barely a shimmer in the air, he’s gone.

I stop in front of my door. I’ve been gone for weeks, but everything about this hallway feels so familiar, I could have left just yesterday. The number hangs a bit crooked under the tarnished knocker, just like I remember.

I knock gently, so I won’t wake anyone else on this hall.

Silence answers me, a pulsing lack of sound that beats along with my heart. My palms are damp. I have no explanation for where I’ve been. No explanation for where I’ve gotten the coins and jewels I carry.

There’s a part of me that wishes I’d just left the satchel on the front step, then asked Grey to take me back.

Or that I’d begged him to take my entire family back with us.

Back to what? I think. Back to a war with Syhl Shallow? Is that really better?

And what would you do with Mom, away from any doctors? Away from her morphine pump?

I don’t know.

I don’t know.

I do know I’m going to rattle myself apart if someone doesn’t open the door. I knock again, a bit harder this time.

More silence.

Then from the other side, a muffled swear, and the locks are thrown.

Suddenly, Jake stands in front of me.

He looks both older and younger than I remember. I didn’t notice that in Lilith’s vision. His face is thinner, but he’s definitely been working out, because his shoulders are broader, his chest stretching the T-shirt. A day’s worth of beard growth clings to his chin, and his eyes are dark and tired and shocked.

He jerks me into his arms and crushes me in a hug. “Oh my god. Harper. Oh my god.”

He’s crying.

I’ve never seen Jake cry.

I’m not really seeing it now, because my face is pressed to his shoulder, but I can feel him shaking against me.

“I was so worried,” he’s saying. “I thought they had you. I thought you were dead. I thought—I thought—”

“It’s okay.” My voice breaks, and I’m crying, too. “It’s okay. I’m home. I’m fine.”

When I say that, he shoves me away from him. “You’re not okay. Your face—who did this to you? Where have you been?” Before I can say anything, panic floods his eyes. “You need to get out of here. Did they see you come in? They’re coming back in a few hours. Harp—it’s bad. I don’t—I don’t—” He breaks off and runs a hand back through his hair. “Where were you?”