Once Lyre had continued without her, Clio allowed herself to whimper. Just one whimper. It made her feel slightly better about the three pointy glass shards sticking out of her arm.

The blast had thrown her backward and her forearm had gone through the glass panel first, followed by the rest of her body. She supposed she should be glad the glass was stuck in her arm and not her back.

Retreating into a shadowy doorway, she ripped a few strips of fabric off the bottom of her shirt. Then she pinched the largest shard, took a deep breath, and yanked it out.

Ugh. She allowed another whimper, blinking away the tears before they could fall. She pulled out the other two shards, gave the puncture wounds a quick examination, then bound them tightly with the makeshift bandage. They weren’t bleeding too badly.

Exhaling shakily, she rose to her feet. The balconies formed stacked rings around the atrium and she imagined that during the day, with sunlight streaming in through the glass ceiling, it was spectacular. But right now, it just made her feel exposed.

She located the stairs, counting until she reached the ninth floor. Lyre couldn’t be far ahead of her. She would catch up to him and they would—

She paused with her hand on the door. Was that a glowing light leaking down the stairwell?

She hesitated, then rushed up the next flight. Better to check it out real quick. At the twelfth floor, she found a simple tripwire in green nymph magic—a spell that would alert the caster when someone opened the door. Reaching out, she hovered her fingers above the neat green weave. This was Bastian’s magic. She was sure of it.

What should she do? Go get Lyre from the floor below? But if that took too long, Bastian could move to a different level.

They needed to know how well protected he was. Now that she had an idea where to find him, she could sneakily scope out the situation before going back for Lyre.

It took only a moment to dissolve Bastian’s trip ward without triggering it. She slipped onto a new balcony, huge executive offices with tall windows and polished desks lining one side. As she crept past them, scanning for any auras or magic, she saw blood sprayed across a glass wall. On the floor beside a wide oak desk, a griffin with bronze wings and blond hair was sprawled in a puddle, his throat slit.

She swallowed and continued on. Passing three more offices with dead griffins and a boardroom with four murdered daemons, she had to fight down nausea. Even if Ra had been poised to invade Irida, this would have sickened her.

She slunk past another fancy office with its occupant slain. Ra might not have been planning an invasion before, but after this, retaliation was inevitable. How could Bastian put their homeland in so much danger? This wasn’t demonstrating Irida’s strength. This was a cowardly, unprovoked attack that would enrage Ra.

Ahead, she finally spotted auras. Voices murmured and she ducked behind a reception desk in front of the last executive office.

“… not reported back,” someone was saying in a low tone.

“Have any of the teams reported back?”

“No, Your Highness.”

Clio’s hands clenched at the sound of Bastian’s irritated voice. She peeked out from behind the desk to see Bastian and six burly chimeras exiting another office—probably having just murdered a helpless daemon.

“The other teams have no reason to take this long,” Bastian snapped, brushing his fine blond hair out of his face. Out of glamour, he wore simple but fine nymph clothes—a green tunic and fitted pants.

“Our information about which floors to check for royals could be wrong,” a chimera suggested. “They might be searching other levels.”

“They should have reported back first.”

The chimera pressed his fist to his chest in a salute. “What are your orders?”

Clio’s spine prickled. She whirled around—and discovered a sword blade inches from her face. The two chimeras behind her glowered stonily.

“Your Highness,” one called.

Clio ground her teeth, furious at herself. The chimera twitched his sword and she cautiously rose, her hands held up in surrender.

Bastian stopped a dozen feet away, his guards arrayed behind him.

“Well, you just won’t quit, will you?” His mouth thinned. “You weren’t worth the effort to hunt down, but now you’ve presented yourself for execution.”

“And what is your justification for executing me, Bastian?” she demanded coldly. “Is refusing to help with your insane plan a crime?”

“You’re a traitor to our kingdom, Clio. You don’t seem to grasp that, but if it’s simpler for you to understand, then I will execute you for allying with a known enemy and killing loyal Iridian soldiers.”

“You weren’t calling the Chrysalis weavers enemies when you wanted to steal from them.”

Bastian gestured to his guard, who pushed Clio down onto her knees. The other chimera laid his sword against the back of her neck—the position for an actual execution. Her whole body went cold.

“Should I thank the master weaver for my missing teams?” Bastian asked. “He will face the same punishment for his interference.”

She lifted her chin to glare into his eyes until the last moment, but a flicker of movement behind him caught her attention: a gray dragonet, perched on the steel handrail, watching Clio with sharp golden eyes.

She jerked her gaze back to her brother and smiled tauntingly. “Actually, Lyre isn’t the one you should thank for your missing men.”

“What—”

In a silent rush, Ash swept down from the level above. He landed on the handrail and, wings snapping open, launched off it directly into the six chimeras. Terror caught every daemon in its icy grip, and two chimeras died before anyone could react to the draconian’s sudden appearance.

Fear nearly petrified her too, but Clio dove away from the sword at her neck. She rolled and came up on her knees, spells forming in her hands. She threw them over her shoulders without looking, then sprang up and whipped around.

The nearer chimera snapped his sword at her and she cast a shield. As his sword bounced off, she grabbed his wrist. A quick paralysis weave sent him crumpling to the floor.

The second chimera slashed at her, forcing her backward. Baring his teeth, he raised his other hand—and she raised hers. As he cast, she mimicked it, and their spells collided in an explosion of green and orange magic.

Someone howled in agony and her opponent glanced past her, his face going white. She risked a quick glance in the same direction.

Ash had a short sword in each hand, and he spun through the remaining three chimeras with eerie grace. He was back in glamour, his wings unneeded for this fight, but it didn’t make him any less terrifying. Black fire coated his blades, and when a chimera tried to block a strike with his sword, Ash’s weapon cut right through the steel—and the daemon’s ribcage.

Bastian was pressed against the wall, his eyes black with fear as the draconian cut down his men. Either he was too shocked or too cowardly to join the fight. He just stood there while his soldiers died one by one.

Coating her hands and forearms in a shield spell, Clio catapulted toward her opponent. When the chimera brought his sword down, she caught the blade in her hands and sent another paralysis weave rushing through the steel and into his body. He fell too.

As Ash ran his sword through the second-last chimera, Clio flung two binding spells at Bastian.

He snapped out of his horrified daze and jumped clear—then sprang at her. She backpedaled but he grabbed her wrists, magic crackling over his hands. She expected to feel the chill of a lethal spell, but instead, Bastian threw her with a blast of raw magic—right over the balcony railing.

Dropping one sword, Ash snatched Clio’s arm, yanking her out of the air. Without missing a beat, he pointed his other sword at the last chimera. Black flames twisted down his blade and a spear of power tore through the chimera’s shield. The daemon crashed to the floor.

And that left Bastian alone in the corridor, surrounded by fallen soldiers he hadn’t tried to save.

His lips pulled back in a sneer. “I’m curious how you can afford a draconian. Is the incubus funding your new attack dog?”

Clio shot to her feet beside Ash, who watched Bastian with dark eyes, his lower face covered and blood dripping off his sword.

“Give me the KLOC, Bastian,” she ordered. “This is over.”

“It’s only just begun, Clio.”

“You’ve already put Irida in enough danger.”

He arched one delicate eyebrow. “You can’t destroy the clock. Without it, Ra will attack Irida. Would you take away our most powerful weapon?”

“You’re insane. Ra is far too powerful for Irida to fight. They outnumber nymphs by—”

“Numbers mean nothing. Just ask your hired mongrel.” He smiled icily. “I will teach Ra to respect us.”

“You’ll be solely responsible for Irida’s annihilation! Give me the KLOC. I can see it in your left pocket. Hand it over now.”

“I already told you, if you take it, you’ll be—” Bastian broke off when Ash shifted his weight, the subtle movement radiating impending violence. “Fine, Clio. But the consequences will fall on your shoulders.”

He slipped his hand into his pocket, where the golden light of Lyre’s magic glowed through the fabric. He withdrew his hand—and a green spark flashed among the gold.

Clio flung her hands up, casting a master-weaver shield as Bastian hurled a gemstone. It hit her shield and exploded. The blast, ten times more powerful than anything Bastian could conjure, ripped through her barrier and hurled her and Ash backward.

She slammed into the floor, little bolts of electric power running across her limbs. Gasping, she shoved herself up. Ash was even faster, already launching to his feet with black fire igniting over his hands.

A flicker of golden light—another gemstone glowing with Lyre’s magic—hit the carpet between her and Ash. A circle of runes whooshed out from the gem, covering the floor with spinning symbols, then hissing electricity surged over them. She and Ash fell to their knees.

Bastian walked over to the two chimeras Clio had paralyzed and broke the spells. The daemons clambered to their feet, their expressions bleak and angry.

“The master weaver’s spells are good.” Bastian pulled a third gem from his pocket. “This one is particularly nasty. I certainly wouldn’t want to die like this.”

Green light flashed as he triggered the spell—then a feathered arrow sprouted from his wrist.

He cried out and the gem flew from his hand, landing on the carpet in front of the binding spell trapping Clio and Ash. The gem blinked warningly.

Bastian dove out of the way as a second arrow whipped past his head. The chimeras hurled orange magic at the unseen attacker as Bastian scrambled up. With a furious glare, he bolted in the opposite direction, and the two chimeras retreated after him.

Footsteps thudded, approaching from behind Clio and Ash.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Lyre chanted breathlessly as he sprinted past the binding spell and dove for the gem on the floor. He grabbed it, golden power racing over his fingers. “Disarm, disarm, disarm!”

The gem flashed one more time, then the weaving darkened. Lyre sat back on his heels, exhaling heavily. “Holy crap, that was close.”

Pocketing the gem, he drummed his fingers across one edge of the binding circle. The paralyzing electricity vanished with a pop, and Clio collapsed on her face.

“Are you okay?” Lyre’s warm hands closed on her shoulders and he pulled her upright. “I almost forgot that bastard stole my spell chain last time we met.”

“He’s making good use of your work,” Ash growled irritably, retrieving his swords and sheathing them.

Lyre grunted unhappily.

“He’s escaping.” Ash stepped over to the railing. “I’m going down the fast way.”

“No,” Lyre said. “We stick together. He’s not that far ahead, and once he gets out of the building, we’ll have more space for a proper fight.”

Ash glanced at Lyre’s bow, then nodded. “Let’s go.”

The two guys ran toward the stairwell and Clio followed a step behind, her heart thudding painfully. She should have done better against Bastian. She should have been able to immobilize him instead of the other way around.

They charged down flight after flight of stairs, and far below, she heard the echo of Bastian and his guards’ footsteps. She, Lyre, and Ash were passing the third-floor landing when a door below slammed. Bastian had reached ground level.

Pulling ahead, Ash jumped the last twelve steps and reached for the door handle.

“Stop!” she yelled.

He jerked back an instant before touching the metal. Lyre moved aside and she raced down to the landing. A web of green light spanned the door. The lethal spell was sloppy—Bastian must have woven it in mere seconds—but it could still kill.

Tapping a knot of runes, she dissolved the spell and yanked the door open. Ash pushed in front of her again but didn’t rush ahead. Clio gave the front entrance a quick examination, but it was trap free.

“Let me check first,” she told the other two.

She grabbed the handle, cracked one of the double doors open, and poked her head out. The grounds were dark and silent, the mangled front gates hanging off their hinges. The wall around the property blocked most of her view, but straight ahead a green aura and two orange ones headed down the street, already two blocks away and fleeing fast.

She opened her mouth to tell Ash and Lyre the coast was clear.

A daemon stepped from the shelter of the wall and into the open space between the broken gates. His aura shone bright gold, his pale hair tousled, and for an instant, Clio’s stunned brain couldn’t understand how Lyre had gotten outside when he’d been standing right behind her.

Except he was still standing behind her.

The incubus outside flashed a smile, then pulled an arrow from the quiver on his shoulder and flipped it into place on his bow. Another incubus with a bright golden aura stepped into view as the first one lifted his weapon and drew the string back.

She slammed the door shut. Force exploded on the other side, and Lyre and Ash threw themselves into the doors, holding them shut. Golden light flashed as Lyre wove a lock spell over the heavy wood.

“What the hell was that?” Ash demanded.

“Clio, what did you see?” Lyre spoke without looking up from his weaving, his face white.

“Incubi,” she gasped, scrambling up with every bone aching. “Two of them.”

“We’re getting out.” Lyre shot a look at Ash. “You need to disappear. Right now. If they see you—”

Ash didn’t even wait for Lyre to finish. He ran three steps and sprang into the air. His body shimmered, wings snapping out, and he shot toward the atrium’s glass ceiling. Gulping back the terror triggered by the draconian’s true form, Clio grabbed Lyre’s hand. Together, they bolted back across the lobby and into the stairwell.

“Lyre, how are we going to escape?”

He swore, his complexion almost as pale as hers and his eyes black. “I don’t know but we can’t hang around the door. My magic won’t stop them for long.”

“No, but we can slow them down.” She skidded to a halt, crouched, and wove a swift replica of Bastian’s lethal spell from the door. They raced up another floor and she cast it again, and two steps up from that, Lyre wedged a gemstone in a corner, the spell waiting for someone to get too close.

They reached the fourth floor and stopped to listen. Breathing hard, Lyre rubbed a hand over his face.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered hoarsely. “What shit luck that they were close enough to sense the shadow weave and trace it, but far enough away that they didn’t get caught in it. Did you recognize who it was?”

She squinted, bringing the archer’s grin into her mind’s eye. Her stomach lurched sickeningly. “Madrigal.”

“And the other one?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t get a good look at him.”

“Damn. Once they’re in here, they’ll no doubt—” He broke off, his eyes widening. “Oh shit.”

“What?” she demanded, her senses straining. Somewhere below, the two incubi were probably breaking down Lyre’s traps on the door—or they were already inside.

“If they search the building, they’ll find—” He grabbed Clio’s hand and started up the stairs again, forcing her to sprint to keep pace. “The Ra royal. If they find the Ra princess in here, they’ll kill her—and Irida will take the blame for it.”

Cold rushed through her. “Princess? What princess?”

“The one I sealed in a room on the ninth floor,” he said grimly. “And let’s hope she knows a way out of here that doesn’t involve a Rysalis family reunion.”