"You're evacuating Graymoor?"
Callum stared at me across the war-room table.
"Most of it."
Sorin stood near the end of the table with Maren and Petra. They'd listened while I explained what Elise and I had talked through.
Callum leaned back. "You've decided to open the seal."
"We've decided it's the only choice that gives us anything resembling a way out."
"That isn't the same thing."
"No fucking shit."
His jaw tightened. I was tired. He was tired. Everyone in that room looked like they'd aged five years since dinner.
Callum pointed at the map. "Warwick could kill people." Then he pointed at the Night Court summons beside it. "The Night Court could dismantle Graymoor." His hand dropped. "But the curse could wipe out everybody."
"I know."
"Do you?"
I looked at him.
"No. I'm serious, Rhys. Out of the three things trying to fuck us right now, the curse is the one we understand the least."
"And neither leaves us with Graymoor."
"We could still fight Warwick."
"And then?"
