The staircase spiraled tighter and tighter to the next floor, opening onto a landing and then up to the next. The farther up I went, the more the air cooled. By the time I reached the third floor, my fingers ached with cold despite the gloves, and the air felt sharper, thinner, as if the castle was shedding warmth the higher I climbed. My lungs ached by the time I reached the top, both from fear and from the cold slicing through the air.
This cold was vicious. Worse than anything I’d weathered in Tennessee. My face and throat ached from it, but somehow the coat and gloves kept me warm. With the way the temperature had dropped, I guessed night was fully here.
That worked for me. I could use the darkness to my advantage, especially with this dark navy coat.
A narrow landing opened ahead, lit by a single torch guttering low. Another iron-banded door sat at the far end.
Please lead outside.
I slid the keyring from my pocket and worked through the keys by touch, hands shaking from exertion and nerves. One key scraped uselessly, and another stuck halfway in.
Come on.
The third key with a triangular notch slid in and turned with a dull click.
I eased the door open an inch.
Cold night air slammed into me, and the wind whistled through the gap. The chill of the hall and the stairwell was nothing compared to this.
I bit back a pained grunt and peeked out.
A stone walkway stretched before me in a long straight line, providing access to the towers that were scattered at intervals. Already, it was slick and sparkling with frost, a waist-high wall on either side. Night pressed close, heavy clouds dragging across the sky. Snow drifted down in lazy, stinging flakes. The moon appeared and vanished behind cloud cover, painting everything in shifting silver and shadow.
I crouched instinctively, heart hammering.
Two guards patrolled the walkway—one far to my left, another even farther to the right. They moved at a slow, steady pace, as if they’d been on duty for hours and nothing significant had happened, boots crunching softly, heads down against the cold.
I eased forward, staying low, keeping to the darker patches the torchlight didn’t quite reach. My coat brushed the stone with each step, the fabric whispering too loudly in my ears. Then I dared a glance over the parapet.
My stomach dropped. I was so screwed.
CHAPTER 6
Hannah
Iclenched my fists and peered over the edge, my knuckles burning through the leather of the gloves and the dagger heavy in my right hand. The sheer drop over the wall stole the breath from my lungs. It was the kind of height that made my stomach lurch before my mind could catch up.
The courtyard was wide and brutally exposed. Snow dusted the stone in thin, uneven patches with vague boot prints disappearing in the wind and falling snow. I could see the spot where I’d landed, but there was no shining portal above it. The door that led to the dungeon was just over there. But…no portal. No shimmer. Nothing.
Dread pooled in my stomach. It was gone.
My heart sped faster, and my throat tightened. I couldn’t panic. There had to be another way home. No one had seemed shocked that a portal existed. It was clear that it was something that happened here, so I had to find the portal. It must be one of those moving portals. Which, fine, sure, that made sense. Maybe I needed to find another mirror—and a dagger like the one I’d cut myself on before. It had such a distinct blade shape and handle.
A couple dozen leather- and fur-clad guards were clustered in tight groups, some scanning the area while others talked or gestured roughly toward where I’d dropped in.
My breath caught. There were more of them than I'd expected.
At least, I’d been smart enough not to try to get outthatway. It wouldn’t have been a question ofifI would be captured butwhen. Probably seconds.
Fortunately, my instincts were guiding me right. I hoped they’d get me home now, but with no portal and no dagger, what could I do next? Obviously, I had to get out of the castle and find a place to regroup, settle in, and make a better plan.
A wave of grief pressed over me. In the past, at times like this, I’d call Aunt Maureen and pour my heart out, and she’d click her tongue while both comforting and scolding me at once. Tears burned my eyes, and the horrible hollow of loneliness opened up once more in my chest.
If she were here right now, she’d tell me to get a grip and put one foot in front of the other because I didn't need to know the whole journey. I just had to take one step at a time.
I could grieve when I was safe.
Beyond the courtyard, the outer walls rose thick and strong, towers punching into them at measured intervals. Everything connected—walkways, raised platforms, watchpoints—in what looked like a block formation. I didn’t see many guards on duty up here, but the towers and boxy watchpoints could have other guards out of sight.
