Varajas went to find Ruan, leaving Samir alone. That was fine with Samir. He had something he wanted to do, and that would be easier if he were alone.

Drawing the Hermit from his deck, he set the card down in front of him and pressed his hand against it. Closing his eyes, he sank into the magic that was instinctive as breathing. The world around him shifted; he was floating, a divided self—his body, the reality of his self anchored in the room with the card, but another part of him searching through the murky unreality of this dream world, seeking the Hermit who was hiding.

He found Peyter. Not in Ulek, but in a clearing in a dark forest. The trees were tall and twisting, an oppressive canopy of shadow. Firelight flickered and licked at their dark angles, making them seem to be moving, breathing.

Peyter was there, by the fire. He looked up as Samir’s presence solidified. He was missing an eye. Had Sidaine done that, or had Peyter suffered even more hardship in the years since her death?

Samir had seen through Ruan’s eyes, heard Peyter and Girald talking. He’d heard the vicious eagerness with which Peyter had proclaimed his readiness to face Samir.

None of that eagerness was on display. Peyter mainly looked tired. “Hello, Samir.”

“Hello, Peyter.”

Peyter patted the hard earth beside him. “I’d invite you to sit, but I can see that you aren’t really here.”

“Not yet, but I’m close. I’m in the castle.”

“The castle isn’t close, and if you think it is…” Peyter sighed. “You think you know about this place. I understand. I thought I knew too. I thought…I thought a lot of things.”

“You did this. You and Girald. You’re the one who trapped us in here.”

Peyter laughed, a hollow sound. “You know what’s always been your problem, Samir? You think there are answers. You think there’s blame. You think there’s cause and effect.”

“And your problem is you never took responsibility for anything.”

That provoked another laugh. “Are you still mad at me? Do you still blame me for talking you into going to her?”

Samir turned that question in his head, trying to figure out if he did blame Peyter.

Maybe once, in the beginning. When it had all been fresh and raw and painful. When he’d been desperate to blame someone. Being angry at Peyter had been an easy response. It had offered him an excuse.

An excuse for walking away. For never looking for Peyter again. For telling himself that he’d done enough by killing Sidaine, that Peyter and everyone else in the house could look after themselves.

“I’m not mad at you.” Speaking the words, Samir could feel the truth of them. “I wasn’t ever really mad at you. It was her fault. You couldn’t have known what we were walking into.”

“How very big of you.” Peyter wrapped his arms around himself like he was cold. “Because I was mad at you. I hated you. You just…left. And when I finally figured out where you were, that you’d been practically adopted by that Darkivel bitch.”

Samir’s entire body twitched in reflexive need to defend Sheluna.

“I couldn’t believe that you never came back to find me. You never even tried. You just walked away like it was nothing.”

The truth—the ugly truth—Samir realized, was that he’d hardly even thought about Peyter. “I was busy putting myself back together. I wasn’t thinking straight. Not about anything. I certainly wasn’t in any shape to rescue you. To rescue anyone.”

Samir took a step forward. “But I’m here now. And I’m not alone. You know what I think, Peyter? I think you’re just as trapped as we are. I think the magic went wrong somehow. If that’s the case, maybe this time I can help.”

“How terribly generous.” Peyter sneered. “How utterly like you. Yes, by all means, come find me, Samir. Come help.” Peyter looked up, his one remaining eye dark and cold. “Come see what’s waiting for you.”

At those words, the magic broke, and Samir opened his eyes to see Ruan and Varajas standing over him. Samir lifted his hand from the Hermit card and tucked it back into the deck. He held up his hands and accepted Varajas’s help to stand.

Ruan and Varajas, two men who had been utter strangers a few weeks ago. Now—Samir wasn’t sure there were words to describe what they’d all been through and the connections it had forged. Peyter, he’d been able to walk away from, and they’d had years together. These men…these men.

It was going to be complicated. But one thing he knew for sure. “It’s time to find Peyter. It’s time for us all to get out of this place.”