Perhaps in the past Honora would have distressed herself over the king—the guilt at her involvement nearly too much to bear—but nothing seemed…real. She felt like she was moving through the world as a ghost, one untethered from the concerns of the mortal realm. The only guiding principle was survival. Her only fire, for revenge. So to that end, she could justify what the Eldouir had done. She understood.

She emerged from the pool of blood with a wave of nausea, gagging at the smell of iron in the dark confines of the ship. Myla could see her sway and steadied her, the Eldouir more accustomed to Hiram’s teleportation than her little canary was. She took Honora’s hand, and they would follow Hiram where she led. Just as Hiram’s blood-magic reached out, Honora’s mind sought others. She’d draw their psyches close, sapping it so that they’d feel exhaustion and she’d start to tremble with the rush of their energy.

If one was close enough, Honora would seek to pull images of Elena’s location to the forefront.

October and Iliana were left behind, unable to follow along to where the Eldouir went next. Nor did they want to. Wasting no time, Iliana used her own key to take the two of them immediately back home and away from this nightmare. For now.

Once on the boat, Hiram beelined his way to Elena. He ignored the peacekeepers, trusting that either Honora would bend them or Myla and Avalon would break them. He was focused only on the familiar body, the one with a still-beating heart. His hope lifted. She wasn’t dead, that liar of a king. But he was, and it served him right for even pretending to have killed one of Hiram’s people.

Elena was on deck for her exercise, though she didn’t do it now as she used to. She stood still, bland gaze cast into the water past the deck. She didn’t turn. Didn’t look. Didn’t flinch.

“Elena.” Hiram bellowed her name, quickening his pace to her. He would reach her, and she would not respond. Only when he grabbed her did she turn towards him, muscle memory, no recognition in her eyes. His anger ripened, but in his ignorance he blamed it on something they had done to her. She should have been stronger than this. Stupid, stupid girl.

Without hesitation, Hiram scooped Elena into his arms. His priority would be to teleport them all back to Lorendale, back to the throne room where the blood was waiting for them. Back home.