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“No. Lonan isn’t here. He locked me inside and left.” I pinch my nose and mutter something about feathers for brains.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Can you—I don’t know—peck the lock open?”

“Peck the lock open? More than a decade around ravenkind, and she thinks we can just peck the lock open,” Cavendish bemoans.

“I’m trying it, Vesper.”

“Thank you, Caldwell. Did I tell you you’re my favorite?”

Cavendish scoffs. “Typical.” But then he’s pecking at the lock as well. I can hear them both scraping at it with their claws and taking turns toying with it.

“Ravens are excellent problem solvers, you know,” Caldwell calls.

“Yes. But we aren’t magicians. I don’t think even a meiga could unlock this door, I’m afraid,” says Cavendish. “I believe it’s enchanted.”

I sigh. “Wonderful.” I stand. My eyes have adjusted somewhat. I can see the faint shadows of a staircase.

“I don’t have much choice but to wait here,” I tell them. “I’m going to climb the stairs.”

“What?” Cavendish squawks. “Absolutely under no circumstances are you climbing those stairs! You have no clue what’s up there.”

“I have some clue. It’s supposed to be haunted.”

Cavendish emits a sound that makes me think I might’ve given him an aneurism. Do ravens get aneurisms? I would ask, but he’d just fall into further hysterics. “Vesper Fontaine, do not dare—”

“Too late, I’m afraid. Don’t wait up.”

I step away from the door, toward the dark staircase.

Behind me, I hear Caldwell muttering to Cavendish, “Calm down. You’re molting.”

“Of course I’m molting. The girl doesn’t listen.”

“Perhaps if you’d discipline with a gentler hand . . . wing.”

I leave their bickering behind as I climb the steps.

It was clever, I have to admit, for Lonan to stow me here. But I swear I’m never going to forgive him for this. I don’t care if he thinks it’s his duty. My friends, my godfather, everyone I love is in that hall. I can’t think about what could be happening to them.

As I climb, I feel my way along the walls in the total darkness. With every step, my heart pounds harder, fear and exhilaration rising in me. Lonan wants to lock me here all night—fine. I’ll find my own way out. He has no idea how unpredictable I can be.

A low sound, like the beat of a drum, echoes once from above.

I stop. The sound came from the steps above me, and I hold my breath for a moment, silently listening. When I hear nothing, I begin climbing again.

But then the tower moans, a great yawning breath, and my blood runs cold.

Turn back, every one of my instincts pleads. But I’m not going to wait for someone to find me tonight, if they do at all.

They say the tower is haunted because a girl died here, a student, fifty years ago. I don’t know how she died. Perhaps she climbed and climbed and the others simply forgot her. Perhaps, like me, she was curious about things one ought not be curious about, poking at mysteries that are best left undisturbed. Perhaps I’ll meet the same fate. But whatever danger lies ahead, climbing is better than staying still. It’s better than inaction.

The drumming echoes again, like the rhythm of a heartbeat, from the tower above.

Fear crawls down my spine. My hand is splayed against the stone wall. I want to make myself small, but there’s no safe place, nowhere to hide. In tighter and tighter circles I climb, till I’m dizzy and disoriented, and then—something smacks the top of my head.

I jerk back, stumbling in the dark and nearly tumbling down the stairs. But I catch myself on the wall and feel the air above me. My hand connects with cool wood panels. I’ve reached it—the top of the tower. I push, and the wood gives way, stretching open, and light finally floods the stairs.