I groaned, rolling onto my back. My head was pounding. What happened?

Screams and the roar of fire echoed in my head, and flashes of the inferno burst across my eyelids. The field! My throat tightened. The rebels.

The stench of char singed my nostrils, and my throat felt raw. I rubbed the blurriness from my eyes and stared up at dark stones and pale phosphorescent light I knew all too well.

I was back in the dungeon.

“No,” I wailed, rolling from my bed. I fell to my knees. “No!”

The tears caught in my throat, and my chest heaved as I knelt in the middle of my dungeon cell. It didn’t work. My head bowed, pictures flashing behind my eyes of the consequences of my failure: burning bodies, the acrid smell of molten flesh, moaning screams of hundreds.

A sob escaped, and I pushed trembling fingers to my mouth, my body convulsing with the weight of my guilt.

The king’s force had left in the opposite direction of Jotun and me. How . . . ?

I closed my eyes as realization dawned on me.

A ploy. The king played us. They’d gone in the opposite direction to lure the rebels out. The king threw out bait, and they’d bitten, coming out in droves.

Tears trailed over my cheeks, and I choked out the worst part, “I was the bait.”

I sucked in breath after breath as the horror settled on my shoulders. I couldn’t breathe. Arnik, I thought. Had he survived? Had Dyter been there? Cal? Had I desolated the entire rebellion because I couldn’t bear my enslavement?

I screamed wordlessly, scratching at my head as I saw how selfish I’d been. Hundreds of people died for me. I pounded the sharp stone floor with my fists, feeling no relief even when my skin split and blood covered the floor. I would never, ever forgive myself if Arnik had died.

Time passed, and when I’d exhausted myself, I toppled onto my side and wept. How was I even alive? I’d felt the heat on my back. I’d seen what Irrik’s inferno could do with my own eyes. It laid an entire Harvest Zone to wreck. He’d torched a field full of potato crops without lifting a finger.

I’d healed myself. How much time had passed?

I remembered Irrik’s words: Be brave today. I sat up, a new awareness hitting me with fresh revulsion. He hadn’t reassured me against Jotun. Irrik’s desolate behavior from the night before the attack now made perfect sense. He’d known what would happen. He’d been forbidden from telling. Someone had betrayed our plans to the king.

Mistress Moons. Irrik had known those people were going to die?

But how? There were only three people here: me, Ty, and Tyr. My heart couldn’t allow either of them to be the traitor. But I knew what happened to people in the torture room. I knew the strongest resolutions could be shattered under the right duress. I hadn’t shared. Which only left them.

Had Tyr betrayed what lay between us to be free of whatever tethered him here?

Or had Ty betrayed our friendship to secure his release from the dungeons at last?

Or was it possible one of Cal’s force was a traitor? Maybe. That would be equally despairing but less heartbreaking for me.

“Ty?” I called out.

He wasn’t here. He wouldn’t have listened from afar as I screamed and pounded the ground until I bled. Why wasn’t he here?

I sank to the mattress and remembered all the times Ty had been gone in the past, disappearing and reappearing to no routine. “Jotun comes for me fortnightly,” he’d said, but was that true? I had no idea, but my head told me it couldn’t be. My mind scrambled for more details. He’d had such in-depth knowledge about the castle, the Druman, Irrik’s oath.

Another possibility came to me, one I hadn’t contemplated since the first time Ty spoke to me.

Was Ty planted here to get information from me?

I dug my palms into my eyes. I’d fallen for it. He’d mentioned Cal, and I’d tripped over my feet in my haste to tell him everything. I’d ruined my own chances of escape. Tyr was probably being tortured as I sat here in this decaying prison. Fresh tears leaked from my eyes. Tyr, I’m so sorry. I hoped he’d gotten away. How could I have been so stupid?

I killed those people.

Whether through my selfishness or through my idiocy.

I killed them.

The door creaked open down the hall, but I didn’t budge. I stared at the far wall as shocked numbness settled over me. Madeline had told me to find my corner of strength. But the corner I found early on, the corner full of my people who gave me strength to fight . . .  

That corner was gone. I couldn’t feel it anymore.

“You’ve been summoned before the king,” Irrik said. His voice was devoid of emotion, but his dark eyes were haunted.

I stood mechanically and moved to the front of the cell. Lord Irrik pushed open the door and let me through. I blinked to break our shared gaze and began walking down the hall.

He’d been beaten. The king’s Drae. His face was still mottled with bruises, and he was limping. It had to have taken a force of epic proportions to inflict so much damage on him. I knew the rebels didn’t have a chance to get to him, so the king was the culprit. Why? What had Irrik done afterward?

“How long was I out?” I asked in a strange, faraway voice. I told myself it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. I could see the broken girl, and I wanted her to have relief at last.

His reply was hoarse, “Three days.”

As I shuffled after him, I said nothing more, and neither did he. We walked all the way to the throne room in silence, up the stairs, past the two lines of guards which I now knew were Druman, through the foyer, and to the double doors.

I couldn’t look at Irrik. I couldn’t look at anyone. But most especially, I could not look at myself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Irrik open his mouth several times, and I wondered what he was struggling to say. Was it an apology for what he’d been made to do? Or was it a warning of what was ahead?

I reminded myself I didn’t care. I didn’t want his help, and I didn’t deserve any mercy. I placed both hands on the gilded doors but paused when the Drae wrapped his long fingers around my wrist.

Khosana, his voice echoed in my mind, heavy with pain, I am so sorry. Please, forgive me.

I peered into his inky eyes, glimpsing the dead look in my eyes in their reflection. He should feel guilty for killing all those people, just as I did. Not replying, I pushed the throne room doors open and walked in.

I passed the table laden with food, and its smell didn’t stir my hunger. The rows of guards in the room registered but didn’t raise any fear. My hands and face were numb, and my ears buzzed. This game of lies and pain had finally destroyed me.

“Phaetyn,” the king greeted in a cheerful voice. “Thank you for coming.”

Thank you for serving up the rebels on a platter? I didn’t bow when I reached him, just stared at the wall behind the throne without emotion, waiting for him to lead me into the next horror.

“It has been a week of revelations for my kingdom. But I am happy with the result thus far.” He tapped a ringed finger on the arm of his gaudy throne. “Thus far,” he repeated. “All that remains is to find the rebel leader and end his pathetic uprising once and for all.”

His words startled me. They haven’t found Cal?

“Of course, now that we know where to find Dyter, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

My stomach roiled.

“You look quite defeated,” the king crowed, clapping his hands. “After hearing of the little escape plan you’d arranged, I was ready to have Jotun drain you of blood. Then I came to see how I could use your plan to my advantage. Of course, Jotun still hasn’t awoken after the injury you inflicted upon him. If not for his human-half, he would be dead, did you know? Your phaeytyn blood killed his Drae side.” He surveyed me anew. “You have proven to be more resourceful than I ever anticipated, and you have concealed far more than I could have believed.” His eyes softened into a mocking expression. “But not everyone is as resourceful as you, dear girl. Not everyone feels the same loyalty to their peasant kin.” He lifted two fingers. “Bring in the boy.”

So he would tell me, would he? He’d reveal the person who had betrayed us all by revealing Dyter’s location. He’d destroy the last traces of me by parading Ty or Tyr in front of me. He’d crush my last sliver of love.

I couldn’t handle it. I wanted to go on believing Ty had been there for me, and Tyr had gotten free and was working to save me still, not willing to stop until I was safe. I didn’t want to know.

But it had to be one of them.

The doors were pushed open behind me, and I heard twin sets of marching footsteps, accompanied by grunts of pain. The person was thrown onto his knees in front of the king and the black hood ripped off of his head.

My chest tightened, and I swayed on my feet. My heart thudded painfully.

“Ryn,” he said, spotting me. He wobbled, trembling and shaking as blood oozed from his torn lip, his face a mottled mess of bruises and battered skin. What had they done to him?

What had they done to Arnik?

I lifted my eyes to the king’s.

A cruel smile danced across his lips. He held a ringed finger just underneath it on one side. “Not who you were expecting, dear Phaetyn?”

Arnik groaned, and one of the Druman guards kicked him savagely to the ground.

The king stood and sauntered from the dais, radiating triumph. He glanced toward Arnik then faced me. “Your friend has been most accommodating,” he said. “We have a number of locations and names that we didn’t before. But he doesn’t seem to know where the mysterious Cal is.”

“I don’t know where he is,” Arnik mumbled, mindlessly, as blood dripped from his chin to the ground.

The king bent over and patted his cheek. “No, I don’t believe you do.” He straightened. “You’re quite useless to me now.” He stepped away from Arnik with a gleam in his eye. “Irrik. At your hand.”

My knees shook. “No,” I whispered as Irrik moved toward Arnik. “No, Irrik! Please!”

The king laughed. “Why are you pleading with him, Phaetyn? He answers to me and only me.”

“I’ll do anything,” I screamed at the king.

He laughed harder. “You already will, dear girl. You already will.”

I sobbed, crying in fear for what I knew would come. Through my tears, I could see Arnik crying, too. I tried to reach him, but two Druman forced me to kneeling. Arnik lifted his head, turning his face toward me, his swollen eyes barely open. Could he even see me?

“Did you ever wonder about us, Rynnie?” he asked, choking on my name. “Did you ever think of us married with children?” He shook as if he knew Lord Irrik was nearing him.

I brushed away my tears, nodding. A long time ago, but I had thought it many times back then.

“Yes,” I said, knowing I was misleading him.

“I thought about it all the time, Rynnie,” he whispered, voice breaking.

The king’s Drae shifted one hand into a massive claw, black talons shining like a scythe.

Arnik’s lip quivered. “I love—”