THE FLOOR JERKED BENEATH OUR FEET.
Someone down the hall screamed in pain. Others cried out in alarm. Kelsine roared. I crashed against the bars of Aaru’s cell, clutching the iron to stay upright. My noorestone skittered across the floor and the backpack spilled open. Blue light flared, creating eerie, jumping shadows across the walls and cells.
The whole earth seemed to roar below us, around us, and above us. Dust and debris rained from the ceiling, making the hall dim and difficult to see through. My breath scraped and my tongue went dry. Every sound muted except that of the earthquake, which remained a thunder and roar and overpowering vibration in my chest.
Tirta’s voice pierced the din: “Arrest Mira!”
Altan, for his part, seemed to want me dead, though Gerel and the shifting ground made that difficult. I knew too much about him—about the Drakon Warriors—and he couldn’t let me leave this place. Every instinct in me screamed to flee—to fly through the hall and up the stairs and fight my way to open air. This was the sound of Khulan raising his mace to punish us.
My fingers scraped against the dark iron of Aaru’s cell as the ground swirled and buckled. I’d never had to fight so hard to stay upright, but the earth had never turned against me like this before. Was everyone in the world feeling this? Or was it limited to the cellblock? I’d already proven I could do something impossible with noorestones, and Aaru could plunge a whole room into darkness and silence. But this wasn’t me. And it didn’t look like Aaru’s doing.
“Aaru!” I had to shout to be heard, but even so, his name shuddered from me in five pieces.
His knife had fallen, lost somewhere in the rubble. Alarm and fear warred on his face, and his hands were tight around the bars, barely touching mine. Though his mouth moved, no sound emerged.
“We’ll be fine,” I lied. “We’re going to get out of this.”
It seemed more likely we’d get buried alive. Or buried dead, if Altan had his way. How long could this earthquake continue? How much shaking and shuddering could the Heart of the Great Warrior take? It was two thousand years old. Surely it had been under this kind of stress before.
Aaru shook his head, acknowledging my lie without judgment.
“We have an advantage.” My words came in short gasps and awkward clumps as the ground jerked. I couldn’t find Altan in the chaos, but his voice soared over the cacophony, all volume and no clarity. “The hallway is narrow,” I yelled to Aaru. Narrow enough to bottleneck the armies on both sides, preventing Hristo or Gerel from fighting more than two people at a time. It was still a lot, though, especially with the earthquake. How long could they keep it up? Especially against strong, well-fed opponents?
At last, Ilina staggered toward us, key in hand. I backed away as she fumbled for the lock; the key scraped around the hole as the ground rumbled beneath us.
Then, the bars slid open and Aaru was free.
The earthquake ended, leaving a sharp emptiness in the hall. A distant stillness.
The patter of dislodged stones, the clash of metal on metal, the sobbing of prisoners, the whine of a young dragon: it all seemed unnaturally loud. Hristo and Gerel still fought, grunting and heaving against the warriors and Luminary Guards. Chenda stood in the center of our group, knife in hand and looking unsure what to do, and wary of Kelsine, who’d retreated from Altan and his friends.
Ilina had the key ring, but now we were all free; her job was over.
We needed a plan beyond surviving this attack. We needed to get out of here.
“Come on.” I motioned for Ilina and Aaru to move toward Chenda.
Aaru bent to retrieve his fallen knife, flinching when his knuckles brushed against a noorestone. I bit my lip against a tiny sob. Why did this mysterious power of mine have to be something so hurtful to him?
This was no time to feel sorry for myself.
“We don’t have many options,” I said when the four of us—plus dragon—were grouped up, squarely between Hristo and Gerel. Both were getting tired. We had to hurry. “There are three exits. One leads into the woods just outside the city. One leads into Warrior’s Circle. And I’m not sure where the last one leads, but probably somewhere mostly uninhabited because they’d have needed to move dragons through there.”
Ilina’s eyebrows rose sharply. “Are there more dragons?”
“I don’t know.” Without thinking, I lowered my hand for Kelsine, who fitted the top of her head against my palm. Everyone stared, but I had no idea how to explain.
“Exits, you said?” Chenda glanced over her shoulder where Hristo was struggling against two Luminary Guards.
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “I’ll give each of you directions to an exit, in case we get separated or one of you needs to lead. Gerel knows the Heart. That leaves Hristo to watch out for.”
“He won’t get left behind,” Ilina said.
“I know.” I organized the exits in my head, but the clack and clash of metal was distracting; my brain wanted to count people and weapons and times people hit one another. I had to focus. “The exit into Warrior’s Circle is probably the most dangerous. It should be the last resort.”
Aaru gestured and, when he had my attention, tapped his fingers against the back of his hand. ::Me.::
I nodded. “Agreed. You get the Warrior’s Circle exit.”
Ilina opened her mouth—probably to ask about that exchange—but she closed it. “I’ll take the dragon exit.”
That left Chenda with the forest exit. Quickly, I gave them instructions—the number of hallways and turns—and made them repeat them back to me three times.
“We’ll go at the first chance we get. We don’t leave anyone behind.”
“What about your other friend?” Ilina asked. “Tirta?”
My heart sank at the reminder, and my gaze drifted down the hall where she watched the fighting—and us—with her arms crossed over her chest. “She’s with the Luminary Council. She was never my friend.”
“Oh.” Ilina eyed Aaru and Chenda suspiciously. “Are you sure these two aren’t going to betray you, too?”
Chenda shot Ilina an annoyed look. “I am not someone who betrays.”
Aaru didn’t say anything.
“I trust them,” I said. “And Gerel, too. They’re taking just as much of a risk trusting us.”
Ilina didn’t even try to hide her skepticism.
“We should release the other prisoners,” Chenda said. “Their freedom if they’ll fight for us. We need the numbers.”
“You’re right.”
“Well, I’m not letting them out.” Ilina grabbed the bow and adjusted the string. She drew a ragged breath and—after only a moment’s hesitation—nocked and took aim. The arrow flew and connected with a Luminary Guard’s thigh. He staggered back—away from Hristo.
It was horrible, this lining people up to kill them. And Gerel—Hristo, too—would kill her enemies. But it was us or them, and I would do anything to save my friends.
Even this.
::I will free the others,:: Aaru tapped.
On Altan’s key ring, I found the cell key and handed the whole ring to him. “Let them out as we make headway.”
He bowed his head and—knife in his left hand—strode to the cell next to his, just behind Hristo. My protector didn’t even glance over his shoulder, just kicked up and caught his opponent in the chest. The Luminary Guard went stumbling backward, making room for Hristo to push forward.
Aaru released Kason, who lunged from his cell and into the fray.
I knelt to retrieve our supplies. The earthquake had shaken so many things loose—the blankets, the medical kits, jackets. Noorestones littered the ground like little jewels of light. I glanced up at Chenda. “Help with this.”
Together, we shoved all the supplies into a backpack. When it was full, we put the noorestones into a second pack. “I didn’t realize you liked noorestones so much,” she said. “Can the dragon help?”
I glanced at Kelsine. Tension laced her posture as she pressed against my hip, but I couldn’t tell if it was protective or wanting to be protected. “Maybe. She can’t breathe fire again until she rests, but she still has talons.”
Golden eyes met mine, and then she turned toward Hristo and the Luminary Guards with her teeth bared. If they were scared of the dragon, they didn’t show it, and I wished she’d joined Gerel against the warriors. They wouldn’t dare hurt her—but maybe she wouldn’t hurt them, either.
I scanned the hall for Aaru. He’d released Kason and Varissa so far, and with their help, five of the seven Luminary Guards were down. Tirta hovered in the doorway, looking uncertain. In spite of our progress, Hristo dripped with blood, some of it his own. It soaked through his clothes in dirty red patches, but surely some of it belonged to others. His sword, too, was wet and gleamed red.
“Aaru?” I called, taking a noorestone from a wall sconce and lifting it high.
His face was stern as he shook his head. Carefully, he began making his way back to the center. Hurrok and Kumas were still in their cells, but they were on the other side of the Luminary Guards—unreachable for now.
“It’s all right.” But oh, if we could have darkened the whole hall, smothered it with soundlessness, and forced our enemies into disorientation, I might have been able to lead my friends to freedom.
“Kason, Varissa”—I motioned at them—“help over here.”
“Of course.” Varissa smiled proudly as she switched sides. “Anything for my favorite daughter.”
Kason said nothing, but his motions were swift and strong. He was eager to fight the warriors—his oppressors for so long.
Gerel had already killed five of Altan’s fourteen warriors, and injured seven others. That didn’t stop their attacks, but she fended them off with the grace of a dancer. The sword was lightning in her hand, and the knife in the other was thunder. She whipped the blades, blocking and thrusting and slashing; it was impossible to keep up.
She’d kicked back seven batons, out of reach of her opponents. Kason and Varissa took them.
Altan was in there somewhere, but through the dust and mass of moving bodies, I couldn’t see him. Surely he wasn’t fighting, though. Not with a gaping hole in his side. But Altan was a Khulani warrior, capable of so many things. He might really be able to battle through that kind of injury.
In spite of Gerel and Hristo’s considerable abilities, and the reinforcement of angry prisoners, we were still outnumbered, trapped, and exhausted.
If only I’d understood my noorestone ability. We had so many. Even the cellblock noorestones, which I’d thought were old and dim before, were merely dusty. When I wiped one against my dress, brilliant light shone through.
“If you like noorestones so much,” Chenda said, eyeing the bag at my feet, and the large crystal clutched in my fist, “I have an idea. Hold that up.”
I frowned, but obeyed, shining white-blue light across the cellblock.
Chenda bowed her head and pressed her hands to her heart. The knifepoint rested just under her chin. “Blessed Bopha,” she whispered. “Grant me your gifts in my hour of need. Cela, cela.” Then, she sucked in a sharp breath and her shadow behind her grew.
“More light.” Her words came raspy. Desperate.
Quickly, I grabbed a second stone from my bag and lifted that as well.
Chenda’s shadow deepened and shifted, independently of its owner. That was a Bophan trick, yes, but what good did that do us?
The Dawn Lady leaned heavily onto the nearest wall. “More.”
My hands were already full and my sore shoulder throbbed, but more light did come. Aaru took four noorestones from my bag and lifted them skyward, touching the two already in my hands.
On the wall, Chenda’s shadow was as black as the space between stars as it peeled off the stone and became a wholly separate object. With great solemnity, Chenda offered it her knife. Armed, it lurched toward the warriors.
I yelped, almost dropping a noorestone, but Aaru caught me. He pressed his fists around mine, holding me steady. A breath tickled my ear, like he’d tried to say something. Silence, though. Only silence from him.
A warrior screamed behind Chenda’s shadow, and when it moved aside, all I could see was the blood pouring from the man’s throat. The knife dripped with red.
My stomach turned over at the sight. A shadow assassin. But hadn’t that been what I’d asked for? Help removing the people trying to arrest or kill us?
I couldn’t take my eyes off Chenda’s shadow as it slipped away from the body, seeking another victim. The warriors turned on it, swinging their batons at its throat and head, but nothing touched the shadow. It thrust out with the knife, killing a second and third man, and that was half of Altan’s warriors, with six others clutching shattered knees and bleeding heads.
That was wrong. There’d been fourteen, plus Altan. “One is missing!” I called. “One is gone!”
Just then, Gerel gasped and staggered back. The knife fell from her hand, and her sword dipped. Altan slammed his baton against her head, and she went down.
“This effort is futile.” Altan looked up at me as reinforcements of twenty warriors came into the hallway, along with the one who’d been missing moments before. No matter how many we fought our way through, they would always have more. “You should have taken my offer.”
Chenda called for her shadow, which surged toward the newcomers with its bloody knife. Hristo rushed past me, sword drawn back to swing in a wide arc.
The bowstring thwapped and an arrow pierced a warrior’s eye.
Kelsine roared and positioned herself in front of me.
Aaru pressed all six noorestones into my hands, and though my shoulder throbbed with the strain of holding my arms up for so long, I pressed my hands together to keep the stones from slipping.
::Wait,:: he tapped, and found the keys again. When I glanced over, the sole remaining Luminary Guard was pulling Tirta from the cellblock. The way was clear to release the last of the prisoners. First Kumas, who took up a weapon and joined the fight without hesitation.
Then Hurrok.
Just as the bars rang open, tattooed hands reached out. Hurrok grabbed Aaru’s arm, twisted it sharply, and stole the keys and knife.
“Aaru!”
His mouth dropped open and tendons stood out on his neck, but no sound emerged. His knees hit the ground as he grasped at his shoulder.
The screaming man stepped from his cell, over Aaru’s crumpled form, and looked straight at me. “I’ve waited a year for this moment.”
And killing me was more important than getting out of here?
Before I could say anything, Altan hurled his baton at Chenda. She collapsed to the floor in a heap of dirty copper silk. Her shadow vanished back into her, normal once more.
My heart raced at the chaos, at the flood of warriors, at the assassin come to end my life once again. We were going to lose. No matter how hard we fought, there was no way we could win. Our warrior was down. Ilina’s quiver was empty. The shadow assassin was gone. Even my silent neighbor was hurt, trying in vain to put his shoulder back into place.
Kelsine roared and threw herself at one of the warriors, but he shoved her into a cell and threw the bars closed, trapping her.
Panic pinned me into place, rooting my feet to the ground. I couldn’t lower the noorestones without dropping them—the pain in my own shoulder wouldn’t allow that kind of movement. I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t help. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. Everything was fading, flickering, except this giant truth that boiled up from a chasm in my chest.
We were going to lose.
Still, Hurrok strode toward me.
Hristo had fought his way through to Altan, slamming him against the bars of a cell. Blood trickled from Altan’s temple, but it was too late. One of the new warriors drew a sword, forcing Hristo to back away or be cut to ribbons.
There was no way.
Gerel and Chenda were unconscious. Ilina was weaponless. Hristo was fighting for his life. Kelsine was trapped. Aaru had pulled himself up and was running, but he would be too late.
There was only me, with Hurrok right there, with Altan raising his baton at me, and with twenty-six warriors thundering through the cellblock.
I hated my panic. I hated the way it captured my body and stole my thoughts. I was going to die because I couldn’t make myself move.
But the thunder wasn’t just coming from warriors. Slowly, I became aware of the ground shifting again.
Swirling.
An aftershock.
Not as violent as before, but it threw everyone off-balance.
Altan fell away.
The screaming man stumbled back.
I jerked free of panic’s paralysis as the aftershock ended.
That’s when I felt it: power pulsing into me, making my skin buzz with energy. The noorestones dimmed in my hands, and ripples of fire danced between the crystals.
A foreign-feeling smile pulled at me.
Hurrok swore and abruptly abandoned his quest to kill me. He turned and ran, knocking into Aaru on his way out of the cellblock. The keys clattered to the floor.
Altan dived for me, as though to pry the stones from my fists, but then all the noorestones in the hall dimmed, and the only light in the hall came from me. Altan moved back, eyes round. “What are you?”
Fire poured through my body, all heat and power bursting to escape. I adjusted my footing, hyperaware of warriors staring at me, my friends watching, and the earth beginning to tremble once more.
“Ilina.” My voice sounded hollow as the whole cellblock went dark, save the nimbus of flame flickering over my skin. I was burning with the power of thirty-four noorestones, and it was too much. Too overwhelming. My chest pinched, making breath squeeze from my lungs in tiny gasps, until I felt as though I were collapsing, condensing into a singular point. And soon I would explode. “Get everyone out of here.”
There was a scuffle. A cacophony of voices. The clatter of iron. And screeching.
I held on for five seconds.
Someone shouted that they would not leave me, but I couldn’t tell who. The rumble and rush in my ears was overwhelming.
Ten seconds.
I was going to die like this. I was certain of it.
Twenty seconds.
If everyone didn’t evacuate, they’d die, too.
Thirty.
Forty.
Forty-one.
Forty-two.
Please, Darina, I prayed. Please, Damyan.
Forty-three.
I had to hold on.
Forty-four.
Forty-five.
I held on as long as I could, but my vision blackened into the deepest night, and my ears became deaf to all but the roaring demand for release.
And then I burst into a thousand stars.