Once Nic was over the wall, she didn’t stop running. The autumn air chilled down her throat as she rasped it in.

Falken had freed his people from the castle’s dungeon. He’d accomplished exactly what he’d planned to, and that was good. When the Grand Divinus had caught her, he’d left her…

But that was what they’d agreed. She would’ve done the same—or at least she’d planned to do the same. They couldn’t have defeated her, not once the Grand Divinus had discovered...

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Through Nic’s earthsight eyepatch, Falken’s figure brimmed brightly near the open panel. He was still here, even if only shadows appeared to claim the chamber’s corner.

“Try to escape,” the Grand Divinus dared, still hovering the desk directly over Nic’s head. Her voice was matter-of-fact, as if she dealt with assassins daily. The Grand Divinus clearly noticed her, so that meant she had some precaution against Shade. An anti-mentalism sigil tattoo?

“It’s been some time...

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In the dark, Nic clutched the fine woven fabric of Falken’s coat, following him as he led the way through Divinity Castle’s network of secret passageways. His exceptional night-time vision made him an ideal leader here, she had to give him that. Her memory of the Contarini maps was perfect, but it didn’t do her any good in complete blackness.

Only the rare pinprick of firelight beamed through peepholes fashioned in the walls. The knowledge of who did what in the privacy of their...

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Nic tried to quiet her breathing while she and Falken hid in her arcanir-weave cloak, her back to his chest, his arms around her, her legs tucked between his thighs. Nice and cozy, one might say, except for the entire castle of guards out for their blood.

Many sets of steps stormed beyond the guest room’s closed door. Her cloak would shield them from earthsight, but if anyone opened the door, Shade would be their only hope. She kept two throwing knives ready, just in case.

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As the glowing anima figures departed, Nic beckoned for Falken to approach the wall in the dying daylight, just beneath a crumbling statue of a gargoyle. This section bordered a derelict district, but they only had a small window to make it to the castle, and they still had the wards to contend with.

Moss and dirt flattened on the cobbles, shaped like bootprints heading toward her—and the hedge she crouched in. When she opened her eye beneath the eyepatch, his tall frame shone...

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