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Nothing happened.

“Come on. You can’t just open up the door and then trap me in here!”

On each wall, an EverFlame flickered in a sconce, and then one by one they started to go out. No. No. “No!” I darted over to one of the sconces still alight. I gripped my amulet just as the last flame went out.

The Seventh Night of Yule

— The Naming of Truth

The world grows restless beneath unspoken words.

On the seventh night, silence breaks. What was carried in secret starts to claw for the light.

This is the night of confession. Of truths ripped free before their time. But what is

spoken now cannot be undone.

Beware for on the seventh night of Yule, the world does not change because truth has broken free, but because it is finally believed.

The Ashen Grimoire

31

Darkness surrounded me. It echoed around the space. The only light came from the sliver of magic inside my amulet, but that made everything worse.

Shadows danced around the walls, and the stagnant, stale air clogged my lungs. The room began to tilt, so I slid down to the floor. What had I been thinking? The woman who wrote the little book had used the FootPaths all the time—it was second nature to her—and although she had explained most of how they worked, she had clearly missed some major points.

I hugged my arms around my knees and placed my head on top. Think! What was I missing? I gripped the amulet. I chanted. I begged and pleaded again and again, but nothing happened.

And any minute, the seventh night of Yule would be upon me, and there were no runes or fire to ward off the YuleMots and their madness.

The little book rumbled against me, and my shoulder throbbed. Danger was everywhere, and I couldn’t see it.

“I mean the Wilds is one huge place,” I said to my pocket. “Can’t you just open a corridor to the ruined temple that Aster talked about, or the city full of Annatalians… something… anything? To get me closer to Ember. Take me to Annatalians in the Wilds.” The little book pulsed just once. Which was a new movement for it. But I took the pulse for a no, which wasn’t at all helpful.

“Can’t you just open the door or whatever so we’re not in darkness on a Yule night?”

Another pulse. Another no.

I gripped the amulet and worried that it didn’t have enough power in it to make the FootPaths work, and I had no idea how Torran had charged it in the library.

I need to get to the rebel city so that they can help. Can you show me the way?

Nothing.

Life, Death, Rebirth.

Nothing.

My mind flicked through all that I had read in the little book. There was nothing about how to make the FootPaths work, and I didn’t have any information on how the magic inside the FootPaths worked either. I clenched the amulet and ran through what I had learned about Earthworld and Skyworld magic. There was always the triad of worlds, but it was only when the Old War was years in, and the lands were dying, that the Earthworld witches and mages had begun begging the Otherworld gods to help their kingdoms.

They’d replied by sending the phoenixes, giving each kingdom the ability to have a flock and Riders. But the flocks were also one full flock. They would never kill each other, and therefore they were sent as the mortals’ guardians. Until the Kings found a way to meddle.

And when the Celts refused to take to the skies, the Gods had sent them Warhorses.

Then I remembered what Morlan had said and what the little book had shown me. When there was a balance between all the worlds, Skyworld and Earthworld followers had built the FootPaths with the Gods’ blessing.

And if that were the case, then I was using the wrong chant. I pressed my hands into the rock on either side of where I sat and thought back to Morlan’s words. “Earth, stone, and sea remember.” Nothing happened.