Think, Summer. Desperation will only get you killed.

Thrusting my arm through the bars, I reach around the door and grab the lock. It’s solid, so I can’t break it, and there’s no key to be found . . .

I yank it anyway. A zip of electricity shocks my fingers.

Ow. What the Fae?

I reach for the lock again . . . only to discover it’s somehow been broken.

How did that happen?

Not one to dwell on the unimportant, I smash into the door with my shoulder, popping it open. Mack’s face softens with relief, and then we both grab a lungful of air and dive, swimming toward the closest opening.

Nebulous orbs of gold light our path, revealing a seven-foot wide tunnel. River grass sways at the bottom and tickles my arms. The precious air in our lungs bubbles out of our lips and tinkles faintly in the water.

Because I was forced to exert energy breaking out of the cage—assholes!—my lungs burn and ache almost immediately. Where are the oxygen reeds? Not sure what I’m supposed to be looking for, I follow Mack’s lead, trying super hard not to panic because I’m underwater. Without a plan.

Seconds away from drowning.

Just when my chest feels like it will explode, she points to something nestled in the grass below. Two wooden flute-looking things sit inside a shell. She grabs one and hands me the other. Her dark hair floats around her face like a muddy cloud. Then she brings the reed to her lips and nods for me to do the same.

The moment the reed touches my lips, I drag in oxygen.

I can breathe again. The feeling is wonderful. Clamping the reed between my teeth, I take two more breaths and then we keep going, swimming hard toward a pinpoint of light in the distance.

Every time my reed starts to lose oxygen, we discover two more planted below. I can’t imagine what it’s like in the tunnels where five or six people are fighting for these lifesaving devices.

Everything about this infuriates me, but I focus on swimming and conserving my energy. My outrage can come later.

Finally we grab another set of reeds just as the tunnel empties into a large body of water. The flow of water drags my white-blonde hair in front of my face. Kicking like mad, I swim into what I assume is the lake of sorrows. Strings of lanterns glowing with golden magic are all around us, providing more than enough light to see everything.

As we come out near the bottom, slimy reeds of grass tickling my arms, a flash of silver catches my eye. I assume it’s a fish until a semi-translucent tailfin slides across the sand, undulating gently in the current.

Selkie. Sucking on my oxygen reed, I take slow steady breaths and try not to freak out. If my heart pumps too fast, I’ll use the oxygen too soon, and the surface of the water is at least fifty feet above.

Mack sees the selkie too. She points, nodding her head. Her dark hair floats around her face like a shadowy halo, and bubbles stream from her nostrils.

Other students begin trickling from the holes all around the lake floor. Most don’t have reeds. Some are clutching their throat, their eyes wide, and I’m glad we took the long tunnel.

Mack pushes off the sandy bottom, torpedoing toward the surface. I follow, kicking hard and fast as I savor the last dregs of my oxygen, forcing myself to take a breath every twenty seconds.

My lungs burn, and I know I can make the surface with oxygen to spare, but the cautious miser living inside me refuses to use up the last of my oxygen until I’m sure I won’t need it.

Excitement amps up my heart. We’re going to be one of the first ones to surface. Take that, mean girl who locked me in.

She and I were going to have words soon. Once I break the surface and take my place beside Mack, who has just now breached the water. Thin patches of ice float beside her. The lanterns must also warm the water.

Something makes me glance down. As my eyes adjust to what I’m seeing, injustice overwhelms my senses.

The girl with the lavender hair, the one who couldn’t swim, struggles near the sandy bottom. When she said she couldn’t swim, she must have meant she couldn't swim well, because she’s managed to claw and fight her way into the lake.

And she could probably paddle her way to the surface . . . except the mean girl who trapped me in the cage swims by, same two boys in tow, and rips the oxygen reed from the other girl’s lips as I watch.

Lavender hair grabs at her throat and flails, her eyes all-white saucers.

No way in hell I’m going to watch her drown. Without a second’s hesitation, I dive, shooting straight for her. The others are now all passing me on the way to the surface, and my heart sinks. I’m going to lose.

But I’d rather lose than let someone die.

By the time I get to her, the girl is entangled near the bottom in the long red and green sea-grass. The girl’s eyes lock onto mine. I rip the reed from my lips and shove it into her mouth. Then I grab a fistful of her sleeve and give a hard kick, propelling us to the surface.

I make it maybe two feet when a shadow passes over us. Before I can look up, something slams into me from above, knocking every bit of air from my chest.

The impact yanks the girl from my grasp and sends me tumbling end over end into the sand. I fling my arms straight out and wave them for stability as I try to get my bearings. Dirt and silt cloud the water, camouflaging whatever hit me.

But I already know what it is. Selkie.

The word shoots straight terror into my veins. A flash of silver and red to my right. One glance and my heart stops, a scream dying in my throat.

The creature is hideous, a strange blend of fish and human. Overly large inhuman onyx eyes are set inside a white face with two holes where the nose should be and gills under the jaw. Reddish-translucent fins stick straight out over her ears, her thick tail covered in silver and blue scales and ending in blood-red plumage.

But I’m focused on the huge gaping mouth set with rows and rows of serrated teeth.

Grinning, the selkie shoots straight for me. I try to punch her but underwater I can’t get any real force, and my fists glance harmlessly over her slick flesh. Her mouth yawns wide as she plunges her teeth straight for my throat—

Suddenly bright red light blooms between us. The selkie halts, peering with those big oily-black eyes at something on my chest. I glance down, shocked to see my pendant emanating radiant red light.

The selkie drags her gaze from the pendant to my face. I take advantage of her pause and strike out, the heel of my bare foot glancing off her tail. The action startles her and she darts into the maze of grasses before disappearing.

My lungs are on fire as I shove off the ground toward the surface, kicking as hard and fast as I can. I find Lavender haired girl floating ten feet from the surface, and my heart clenches. She’s motionless. Eyes closed. Shafts of light from above highlight the vibrancy of her hair swirling around her slack face.

Using every bit of energy I have left, I grab her arm and drag her to the surface. She doesn’t move, doesn’t kick or struggle or anything.

Not good.

Cold air stings my face, steam from the warm water curling around my head. Clutching the girl to my chest, I struggle to keep her head above water, but it flops lifelessly side to side.

Crap. I need to help her.

Someone calls out, and I manage to yell back, taking deep lungfuls of frigid air. Every exhalation sends a milky cloud shooting from my shivering lips.

A wooden rowboat with peeling brown paint drifts over and someone tugs us over the side. As soon as we’re both in the boat, I turn the girl on her side to get any water out of her lungs. I feel for her pulse, but my fingers are too numb to be of much help.

Is she breathing? Her chest isn’t moving.

Head spinning, I position her on her back and start compressing her chest like I’ve seen on TV.

After a few minutes, I stop, unsure if what I’m doing is even helping.

Oh, God. I stare up at the stars and try to catch my breath as we near the shore, pieces of ice smacking the hull.

It’s not exactly light outside, but a strange mixture of dusk and moonlight reflects off the snow and brightens the land.

The person rowing—a huge, muscular faun with goat legs covered in white fur and large ram horns protruding from short red hair—hands me a blanket. Wrapping the scratchy wool around my body like a burrito, I sit up in time to see Mack sprinting toward our boat, followed closely by the blond Evermore I nearly brained earlier with my shoes. He’s holding my boots and grinning.

My sprite, on the other hand, is not grinning as she flutters through the air clutching my sweatshirt. It’s too heavy for her tiny wings, and she keeps dipping and weaving in the air, dragging my poor sweatshirt through the snow.

The curses spewing from her lips could fill ten swear jars.

A crowd gathers on the snowy lawn a little way ahead. Beyond that, the academy rises impossibly high, the most beautiful building I’ve ever seen. Carved from white marble, the spires and towers glimmer faintly under the moonlight. Blue and gold orbs of magic pulse from thousands of lanterns that sparkle like the stars above. A flag flies from the middle tower, the silver and blue colors definitely from the Winter Court.

For a moment, a breath, I have the odd feeling that I’ve been here before. Or dreamed about this place. Or read about it, even. In much more detail than that tiny Wikipedia article.

Then the bottom of the boat scrapes on the shore, and I’m dodging the sweatshirt being thrown at my face.

After I slip my sweatshirt and boots on, the blond male Evermore who carried my boots helps me off the boat. I accept his hand, startled by the warmth of his fingers. He grins and I suddenly realize how strikingly handsome he is.

I mean, all the Evermore are unbelievably gorgeous, but he surpasses even the normal Fae standard. In our world, he would be a movie star or a model . . . or both.

He wears the green and gold of the Summer Court, the colors matching his gold-flecked green eyes. His hair, too, is gold, and pulled back in a half-knot that would make any other man look ridiculous. Golden cuffs shaped like ivy wind up his pointed ears, capping the tips.

“Are you okay?” he asks, flashing perfect teeth.

He’s running his hands over my body, an orange-gold light flickering out from his palms and seeping into my flesh. Each pass fills me with delicious heat and dries my clothes. Once he’s done with that, he waves his fingers and creates a bubble of warmth that covers my entire body.