As we step into the Coil, the shade supplies immediate relief from the heat—or maybe there’s some magic w in here like the sun cloaks. With a relieved sigh, I push my goggles up, and find the others doing the same. Faint lights speckle the ceiling, though it’s hard for me to tell if those are holes in the snake’s hide, or artificial lights. Whatever the cause, it results in a dim twilight, darker than day, but brighter than night. A light level, I realized, designed for both those with, and without, night vision.

  The city is like nothing I’ve ever seen.

  Our path curves ahead of us and out of sight, like one long covered bazaar. Buildings are built into the sides of the walls and stretch up to the ceiling, some structures bridging the top in overpasses that look down oreets. At irregur intervals there’s holes carved on the inside wall of the snake’s hide, burrowing into deeper rings of the coil. The streets are full of humans, dhampyrs, araoids, and another species I haven’t seen before; they’re green and have poieeth and ears, only two to three feet tall. Echo identifies these as goblins. This world just keeps getting stranger.

  We stop at the stables the guard directed us to, just withirance of the city. Ear and Xamireb hang back to check Poppy into an enclosure, striking up small-talk with the stablehand. They nod to Darian, remaining behind as the rest of us head deeper into the city.

  Away from the entrahe streets overflow with people, merts, and smoking stalls dispying raouthwatering grilled meats and pnts. Despite the fact that the sun is heading toward noon outside, the city is very much awake and bustling. I wonder if it ever truly sleeps.

  We take a passage into one of the inner rings of the city, and the atmosphere abruptly shifts: in pce of quick bites and shiny tris, there are now closed doors, apothecaries, inns, and craft shops. Darian takes us on a path that straddles the two different specialties, likely looking for something that sells preserved food meant for travel. While we walk, I casually g all the people we pass.

  Most are armed in some form or another. Swords or knives are strapped to waists, fshih the wearer’s cloaks, and it occurs to me this is rgely for show: these are the ons they’re allowing us to see, inteo send a clear message. As Darian said: a distinct “don’t-fuck-with-me” warning sign. The captain at least carries an obvious sword, but Quell appears unarmed. I drop back behind him so my demon shield is clearly on dispy.

  The Aegis, meanwhile, seems very excited to be here. What is this pce? That one has a on. Should we fight them? Oh, that one does too! And that ohere are so many targets.

  None of them are targets! I mentally hiss.

  It’s dangerous to be surrounded by so many armed creatures. But not to fear! The Aegis swiftly take care of any threat that es our way.

  I roll my eyes. Great. Gd to hear it.

  Darian pauses to speak with a mert, so Quell and I hang back behind her. I keep an eye on our surroundings as Quell swivels his head around in obvious glee.

  “This pce is amazing, isn’t it?” he says.

  “Yeah.” I s the streets for any signs of dangerous body nguage or appraising looks. My gaze sticks to a cloaked figure who has gnced Quell’s way. Their eyes find my gre, and they quickly hurry on their way. Some things are universal. “It’s something else.”

  Quell is quiet for a moment. “What are you looking for?”

  “Trouble.”

  “You really think we’ll get into a fight in here?” he asks.

  “If we run into some Moonfall soldiers, maybe.”

  Quell shakes his head. “Just because tensions have been a little heightened as of te doesn’t mean everyone is champing at the bit to start a war. No one’s going to attack each other on sight.”

  I give him a skeptical look. “Including the ones who abducted your sister and tried to abduct you and your brother?”

  “You said those were Umbral Bdes,” Quell points out. “They’re different. They don’t ao the throne. I mean, sometimes they do, but they’re an indepe anization. Maybe the Moonfall Kings don’t even know about all this. Maybe some other try hired them in order to frame the Moonfall Dynasty.”

  “That sounds unnecessarily voluted for what otherwise has a pretty obvious expnation,” I say.

  He folds his arms. “And what is that?”

  “Moonfall abducts the monarch’s kids and uses them as leverage to win the war before it even begins.”

  The prince frowns at Darian’s back.

  “e on,” I say. “You’re an idealist but you’re not naive.”

  Quell sighs, then looks back at me sadly. “Perhaps. I’m just not ready to believe what all this really means. I grew up in an era of peace—tenuous peace, yes, but there was no war. If this really is the beginning of a full-on flict, it will meaation for both our kingdoms. No one wants that. No one should want that. Before we it to a long and bitter campaign, I have to believe there’s some ce of resolution.”

  I get that. Maybe he’s not as sheltered as I pegged him to be. Just someorying to find the best oute in a bad situation. I wonder if that’s part of the reason he’s so set on finding his sister, too. Stopping it before she’s taken into Moonfall territory could potentially prevent the flict from esg.

  Then again, when the King and Queen find out, this might be ushes them over the edge. And with staill marg toward the Lifespring Oasis, their soldiers would be poised for a swift response.

  I rub my forehead, grimag. It’s an ugly, messy situation, and I’m not sure how Quell expects to it all up. But I ’t fault him f.

  Darian finally turns away from the shopkeep. I raise an eyebrow iion, and she shakes her head.

  “I’ve a few more establishments on this street I’d like to question, but I think I’ll be more successful alone,” Darian says. “If you two could find somewhere to keep out of the way…”

  “Oh!” Quell excitedly points to a shop with the symbol of an ink bottle and quill over the front door. “Stationary! I’m almost out.”

  I give him a disbelieving look, but Darian waves us on.

  “That works,” she says. “ay close to the… Quell. I should only be a few minutes.”

  “Great!” Quell says. “I’ll be quick as well.” Then he hurries over to the store like a kid at a dy shop. Why do I feel like he won’t actually be quick?

  Aside from the food stalls in the marketpce, this is the first real business I’ve seen sinding on this p. And it feels weirdly familiar. I don’t know why I’d expected it to feel alien—aside from this being an alie, basically—but it has that same dusty library smell, that same sort of cozy bookstore half-light. The walls are covered with shelves dispying all sorts of inks, quills, and scrolls; notebooks and binders, ledgers and wax and seals. I g the bels, and for one disorienting moment, I’m seeing strange symbols and shapes. Then my visioo snap into focus, and the words have meaning, and I’m reading them as clearly as if they were the alphabet I’d grown up with.

  But they’re not. They’re definitely a pletely different nguage, and somehow, I uand it.

  And that’s when another realization crashes into me: I’m speaking a different nguage. Everyone is. And I uand them. How? I only know Spanish and English. Why I uand this weird fantasy nguage? Why didn’t I even notitil I paused to actively think about it? I narrow my eyes at the writing on the shelf: I see the word “ink.” But when I focus, when I try to look through the meaning, the actual fn symbols slowly shift into pce. I lean back, blinking and reeling at this revetion. Just what is this magic doing to my mind? What else haven’t I seen, because I haven’t looked close enough?

  “Hey.” Quell touches my arm, and I jump. “You okay? You looked really focused. Or mad. I ’t really tell with your face.”

  I frown at Quell. “What’s wrong with my face?”

  “Nothing!” he quickly says. “Just, you know. You always look annoyed.”

  “Probably because I am.” I gesture to the armful of clutter he’s already mao gather in his arms. Somehow ihirty seds or so we’ve been in here, he’s mao gather bottles of ink, quills, ed charcoal, and stacks of paper bound with twine. “We’re on a dangerous mission. Is all this really necessary right now?”

  “Of course it is,” Quell says. “I o send a letter to my parents inf them of the situation. stance probably has as well, but… well, he might have left out some details to save face.”

  “Like the fact that you ran away,” I say ftly.

  He smiles guiltily.

  Isn’t he taking this seriously at all? “Why are you so chipper? We should be out looking fns of your sister ireets. You ’t care more about fancy papers ahan her.”

  His smile falters. “I don’t see that there’s much I could do, aside from ‘keeping out of the way,’ as Darian so aptly put it.”

  I give him a skeptical look. “You’re the ohat insisted on chasing her down.”

  “I know,” he says shortly, frustration flickering over his face. Then he slumps. “I know. I just thought—I don’t know. I thought I could do something. Anything. But even my ability to track Liz is redundant with Xamireb here.”

  He drifts over to a different wall that has an assortment of feather pens on dispy. He looks into the gss instead of at me. “Our brother has always been focused on the big picture. Even as a kid, he was all about duty and try. Perhaps being the first does that to you. The knowledge a of what you’ll one day be responsible for.” He shakes his head. “Without that same obligation, Liz and I had more freedom to do as we pleased. We were close. Partners in crime—well, I covered for her antics, at any rate. So when stance agai off to put the big picture first, I knew I had to be there for Liz. I had to do everything in my power to find her. She’d do the same for me.” He ughs sadly. “I guess everything in my power is still nothing. I’ve just been dead weight. But what else is new?”

  I grimace. Maybe I’m being too hard on the guy. I ’t say I’d do any different in his situation. Sometimes you have to put yourself out there, even if you don’t know what you have to offer. Who hasn’t gotten in the way of themselves where family is ed?

  “You’re not dead weight,” I say with a sigh.

  He gnces skeptically at me over the rim of his gsses. The look pulls a ugh out of me.

  “You aren’t,” I repeat. “If we hadn’t goer Darian, she and the twins would have bee stranded out in the middle of the desert without a star drake or most of their supplies. So grats: your poor deaking uionally saved the mission.”

  His eyebrows lift. “I hadn’t thought about it that way.” He seems to process this for a moment, then his expression softens into a small smile. “Thanks. I’ve just been so worried about Liz, and was starting to wonder if I messed up and was getting in the way again, and if it would be my fault if she—” He stops himself, shaking his head. “Well, I’ve just been worried. So, again, thank you. I o hear that.”

  Aw, man. Of course he’s dened with guilt and self-doubt. And I’ve been nothing but an ass to him this whole time, haven’t I? I grimace.

  “No, I—I’m sorry,” I say haltingly. Shit, I’m not good at this touchy-feely stuff. It's too unfortable to maintain eye tact with Quell, so I end up looking at the same pen dispy he’d been watg before. “I shouldn’t have bit your head off earlier. That was uncalled for. And, I guess, sorry for all the other times I’ve been giving you the cold shoulder. I’ve, uh, just been worried about my brother, too, though I guess that’s not a great excuse. Anyway, I get how you feel, but none of this is your fault.”

  When I risk a look back, his face is sched with affeate gratitude. It’s almost ical how easy he is to read. This guy would be terrible at Poker. Oh no, is he misting up?

  “So you need all this writing junk just to send a letter to your parents?” I ask, deg to bull my way into a safer subject.

  Quell graciously lets me. “It’s not junk,” he says, heading over to the ter to y out the supplies. “And, okay, no, not all of it is necessary. But it’s not every day I get to try out stationary from the other end of the Kingdom! This ink is made from distilled asp venom, did you know?”

  “Really?” I smile faintly at his enthusiasm. He already seems to be back to his excited, schorly self. “Huh. Maybe it’s not useless after all. Think it still has any of its venomous properties?”

  Quell looks aghast. “I would rather not like to find out!”

  “Too bad,” I say. “It would bring a new meaning to the pen being mightier than the sword.”

  Quell’s eyes light up. “Oh! Good phrase. I like that.” He fishes some out of his pocket, and I surreptitiously step between him and the door, just in case there’s any wandering eyes looking to size up the prince’s pouch.

  “But the rest are necessary,” Quell tinues. “As I previously mentioned, I io send some letters home, which is why I need all the welkin paper.”

  I tip my head. “The what?”

  Quell hands over the payment without even trying to barter first, and I wince.

  “Welkin paper.” He offers a stack of papers to me. “Infused with air ara and branded with a homing spell. After I finish writing my letter, it will fold itself up and fly to the location of my bidding.”

  I bouhe papers in my hands. It barely feels like I’m holding anything at all. “That’s pretty handy,” I admit. “Are they roof, too?”

  “Ah, no,” Quell says, gathering up the rest of his supplies. I take pity on him and grab a couple bottles to lighten his load. “They’d pretty much disie in water, unfortunately. One of its drawbacks, in addition to having no defensive capabilities, if a reaper or bird of prey might happen to take i in it. Luckily, it hardly ever rains, and welkiers are very agile.” After a moment of pause, he adds, “Even so, it’s usually a good idea to send multiple copies for a long-distance journey like this one.”

  Seems like a lot of trouble just to send a letter. Though given the remote location of the Coil, I don’t suppose there are many courier options.

  It’s been a few minutes, so I let Quell lead us back out into the market. Darian’s armored form is not far down the ne, already heading in our dire. Guess she hasn’t found the information she’s looking for, yet. I wonder how fruitful this whole endeavor will be. Running into a couple of soldiers and one captive in a rge city is a needle-in-a-haystack type situation. And that’s assuming they’re even still here. But I’m not about to voice that aloud and dash Quell’s newly rekindled hope.

  “Oh!” Quell stops so suddenly, I nearly bowl him over.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  He’s staring at the ground. “I found something. Here, hold these—” He dumps all his supplies into my arms before I object, then bends down to piething up.

  I peer around his shoulder. “A rock?”

  Quell holds it up for me to see, then turns his hand around. Like a card trick, the rock bees a gold bracelet.

  “It belongs to Liz.”