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Relief was short-lived when I rounded the corner and found the stairs we had used from the FootPaths to the cell were locked and guarded. So, upwards it was.

Three floors up, frozen air rushed around me, carrying snow with it despite being deep inside the prison walls. Around the next corner, a gaping hole split the corridor wall, revealing a never-ending view of mountains and snow. Strange shadows flickered around the singed edges, as though the prison runes were burning out.

There was an almighty crash, and the walls vibrated so violently that I fell to my knees; three guards ran past me without even looking down.

Then a phoenix’s Death Cry swept through the corridors, and I covered my ears to try to hide from the deafening sound. Every movement I made caused a stab of pain to shoot up my arm, but that couldn’t stop me. Every instinct was now fixed on finding Aster and getting out.

As I pounded up more stone stairs, my vision spun. It had been a long time since I had eaten, and there was little energy left in me to keep climbing. But I kept going, not even sure where I was headed, but there had to be a way out.

I slipped up the narrow stairwell where they had taken us to the interrogation room and froze when I reached the top. The highest prison level had descended into panic. Guards brushed past me carrying weapons and rune lanterns, shouting for me to get out of the way. Somewhere far below, prisoners hammered and shouted desperately against cell doors. And no one glanced twice at me. Because the attack had all their attention.

Guards’ bodies were strewn across the landing, blackened by smoke and talon marks.

Oh gods, they breached here too.

The rogue phoenixes, driven mad by YuleMots were out for blood. Just as they were at this time each year.

A distant roar shook the walls hard enough that cracks splintered through the wooden ceiling overhead. A snow flurry burst inward through them. I ran past shattered doors and abandoned weapons. The white Northlands stone eventually gave way to one huge open space after another. Earthworld witches had etched symbols into the arches along the open side, just as they had in the workshop, and these symbols glowed faint silver beneath the chaos. Earthworld markings of protection that were perhaps only just holding.

My shoulder burned hotter with every step, telling me that danger lurked nearby. Then I heard it. Aster roaring in pain. And I hurtled myself in his direction.

At the far side of the chamber, he had collapsed against a stone pillar beneath glowing runes. Blood soaked the front of his shirt. A Northlands sword at his side. His head hung forward, unmoving. Everything paused. The phoenix cries were muted, the beat of boots on the prison stairs faded away, the snow stopped drifting in on the wind.

Dead?

No. No. No.

This wasn’t how it was meant to happen. The plan had never included Aster bleeding out in the Northlands prison.

No. No. No.

Please, no.

I was by Aster’s side before I could think of anything else. My knees hit the white stone floor, which was covered with his blood. I reached out and cupped his head. My fingers brushed over his stubble, my thumb sweeping blood from his cheek.

“Please,” I prayed to the gods I had never worshipped, “you’ve taken everything, but don’t take him. I’ll do anything if he gets through this.” I had survived losing kingdoms and cousins and homes. I didn’t know if I could survive losing him twice.

I lifted his face to meet mine as his one good eye fluttered. My chest caught mid-beat as my eyes stung. Not dead. I pulled him to me and wrapped my arms around him. He still smelled of pine and snow and home. He groaned in pain, and I gentled my hold, but I couldn’t let him go.

“I’m so sorry. This wasn’t…”

“Take it,” he murmured.

“I don’t…” His hand opened, and my amulet fell to the floor.

“Got it back for…” he groaned. “It’s your way out.”

Beyond the room, a black phoenix was circling—Torran studied us from the sky. Three Barren Riders lay dead around the chamber, blood seeping from fatal wounds. Had Aster done that?

“Run,” Aster whispered. “The… FootPaths…”

“No.” I hooked my shoulder under his and heaved. He was so damned heavy, but with a few huge heaves I managed to get him on his feet, leaning against the pillar. “Where’s the door?” His gaze flicked to the other end of the room, near the long stone perches.

“They were trying…”

The Barren Riders were going to use the amulet to use the FootPaths. So any Rider could use them? And Aster had stopped them because war would be easier to wage if one could just walk into enemy territory.

More Northlands and Barren guards were entering the cavernous space. There were so very many of them, and their questioning eyes were on us.