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“The people here have been hiding for a long time. The forest protects them against strangers. They are hidden by wards and runes made by our witches. Nobody is allowed in or…” out.

Brilliant! I was a prisoner in a foreign land again, and he had walked me right into one more cage. There was nothing to do but follow along, find the other Annatalians and engineer an opportunity to escape.

We had come to the edge of the village. Each single-story log house had green wreaths made of firs, and mistletoe on its doors and around the windows, and even more mistletoe hung on the porch for protection. Lanterns flickered on poles, and smoke billowed out from the chimney pots. For a fleeting second, I understood why Aster was here. The setting was beautiful and calm. People actually seemed content even though an icy wind whipped down the main street. The smell of roasting chestnuts and meat made my stomach twist and groan with hunger.

Aster must have heard. “As soon as we’re released, I’ll get you food. But you need to pick up your pace.” He faltered then and peered back, those eyes searching every inch of me just like they used to. “I’ll get you out of this.”

He reached for me, and I should have stepped away, but I couldn’t. His touch was light as he placed his hand on my lower back and guided me down the street. “I’m not surprised you escaped, but I thought you’d go home with Red and Rose.”

People stopped what they were doing and openly stared, and I remembered that the dress I wore was one of an enemy. I had been so proud of Ember when she had designed them so we could store all we needed within the folds of the fabric. But here the dress singled me out as a threat.

“Red is missing, and I’m going to find her.” Just as he’d taught me, my lie was laced with truth. I would find out what he was doing in the Ruckus, mend the book, and then try to find a lead on Ember.

At the end of the cobbled street was an impressive three-sided stone building, clearly built long before the Old War. A new thatched roof adorned the peak, with four chimneys spewing smoke into the dimming sky. Night would be upon us soon, and for the first time this Yule I wanted to be inside before the YuleMots glimmered on the wind, bringing madness with them.

“Remember what I said,” murmured Aster as he stepped up to the large wooden double doors. On either side, the two imposing Celtic warriors eyed us suspiciously, but Aster put himself between them and me and shoved up his sleeve, revealing a swirling tattoo on his wrist, which glowed green as he reached for the door. They stepped aside, grabbed the circular wrought-iron handles, and pulled.

We crossed the threshold into a cavernous, high-ceilinged hall lit with flaming oil sconces and candles. In the Barren, they used Skyworld magic, but in the Ruckus, they didn’t have Phoenix Riders to magic up ever-glowing flames and heat. All over the walls were Celtic symbols, much like the ones I’d seen poking out of Aster’s shirt. Bright blue tiles covered the floor, so shiny they were almost mirror-like.

For the first time, my reflection showed how wretched I looked—the gouges had left rivulets of dried blood down my chest and over my dress. But after ten years of facing a reflection that wasn’t my own, I rolled my shoulders forward and shortened my stride. Perhaps, in this state, it wasn’t so hard to play meek and fragile. After closing the doors behind us, two different guards opened the next set of double doors, and beyond them, warmth and music met me. Laughter filled the air as people prepared for the Yuletide feast of remembrance. There must have been runes on the doors to keep the sound contained, just like in the cabin.

My fingers twisted in my skirt, and I took in a long, deep breath to keep my heart from cracking at the sight. It had been so long since I had seen a Yuletide gathering like the ones I had grown up with. Each kingdom worshipped the twelve nights differently, but they all worshipped somehow. No one escaped the thinning of the veil.

Aster stepped forward, and when I didn’t follow, he held out a hand. “After you.” His tone had a bite of annoyance in it. As if I were a weak, pampered Barren noble. It jarred against the merriment in the room. He was watching me with a cool, indifferent ‘Lord’ mask in place—the same one that he used to wear in the Annatalian court with my uncle when he was training to be a Shadow—and I understood the danger I was stepping into.

But we weren’t at court anymore, and I had spent years fighting my way free of Barren men. That sort of constant vigilance had changed me, shattered who I was, moulded me into a survivor with heart-thumping defiance. When Ember, Thorn, and I had first arrived in the Barren, we’d huddled together under one thin boarding house blanket. And we would tell each other stories of the castle’s warmth and of the fur-lined capes stitched with gold in every colour under the sun.

I allowed the mask of a Shadow to surface and placed a careful smile on my lips. “Let’s go.”

We walked into a long hall, with two roaring fires at each end, and the crowd turned and studied us. Two women sat at the end of a long table. Covering their large wooden chairs were bear, lynx, and snow leopard furs. My mouth watered at the plates piled high with meat and vegetables. There was so much of everything, everywhere—no wonder they hid from the other kingdoms.

The women stopped talking as we approached the table, and as my toes hit the end of the rug, Aster grabbed my arm and pulled me back. He raised his other arm and beat his fist against his chest.

“Chief, you called.” He bowed his head, and I flinched.

It was almost impossible to believe what I was seeing. Aster was being so reverent toward them when he had fought for us for over a decade. Was this what the rebellion had become? And had their leader truly become a lapdog to the Celts of the Ruckus? He was meant to be fighting to get our lands back from the Barren and the Wilds, who had each seized half.

But I stretched out my fingers and made my arms relax.

The two women were terrifying and utterly stunning at the same time. They had dark blue war paint on their foreheads, which had been made to look like water droplets from their hairline to the top of their eyelids.

The woman to my right had a gold ring around her neck and wrists—the sign of a Seer. To my left was Bronwen. Her long white hair had been braided into plaits, with golden beads woven in. Around her neck were several leather necklaces with Celtic symbols of protection embossed on them.

They both rose as we stopped. “This way,” the Seer said, her voice enchanting and sing-song. Her long, dark braided hair and sallow skin made her look like one of the Sky goddesses we pray to. Her war paint shimmered in the lantern light.

Without another word, they both stood and turned toward the back of the room where another set of double doors waited. Two more guards opened the doors as they approached. I peered over at Aster, and he motioned for me to go first.

The door clanked shut behind us. I now stood in a small sitting room which was opulent and comfortable. Blue, gold, and cream fabric covered the walls, and plump cushions and huge furs filled the chairs in front of the roaring fire. I wanted to sink into one of them and curl up to sleep, but I doubted there would be much rest for me tonight.

“Sit before you fall,” the Seer said, pointing to a hard, wooden chair furthest from the fire. “You’re shaking.”

Was I? I had mastered the ability to shut down the signal from my body a decade ago. Ever since the itching pain in my shoulder had started.

The Seer glared at Aster. “You’re late. Catching up took too long.”

“She arrived in a Phoenix Cage, and that prince couldn’t drop her at the normal place?” Bronwen’s hardened stare fixed on Aster. “Almost like the prince knew you were stationed at that camp.”

“I don’t know what he did or didn’t know. He’d gone before one of my warriors got to her.” Aster strode to the mantelpiece and rested an elbow on it, raising an eyebrow at me, which meant: Do as you were told and sit.