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“I come out here to treat the children. They know me and are used to my comings and goings. I usually have my maid with me, but still, keep your head down.”

She stops in front of the gate and bangs on it with her fist, three times slow then three fast. At first, I think nothing is going to happen, and I twitch impatiently. I’m trying not to think about what I might find at the end of this journey. But my stomach churns at the thought. What if we are too late and Khaosti is broken beyond repair?

Finally, the gate opens from the inside and a man stands there. He bears a remarkable likeness to Brown back at the safe house—in his seventies, but fit and lean. When he sees Sheela, he gives a small bow. “My lady.” He doesn’t even look at me.

“Good evening, Green,” Sheela replies.

Khaosti told me that all the guardians are given duties once they are too old to actively fight. The ones who guard the safe houses are all given the name Brown. I mean who does that? But maybe the ex-guardians here are all called Green. Someone needs a little more imagination.

This place is obviously ripe for a revolution, but I’m guessing that’s not going to happen anytime soon, despite the civil war. Khronus has the place totally under his thumb. And he doesn’t like change.

“You are heading to the meeting, my lady?”

“I am, and I must hurry, or I’ll miss the beginning. My uncle will not be pleased.”

He gives a small bow and closes the gate behind us.

“That was easy,” I say. Too easy?

“Green is used to my comings and goings.” She turns and heads into the city. At first the roads are narrow, with tall buildings on either side, but they quickly widen as we head upward on a slight incline. We see a few people, all walking in the same direction—to this meeting, I presume. Sheela had said it was mandatory. I keep my head down.

“There is the Star Palace,” Sheela says, pointing up ahead. “The heart of Aurion.”

I raise my head. The place is hard to miss if you’re not staring at the ground. “It’s beautiful.” And it is…if you like that sort of thing. It’s also big. I mean huge, towering over the rest of the city. And ostentatious—a gleaming white marble palace with a multitude of spires that rise up into the night sky, almost touching the stars.

Is Khaosti somewhere beneath that monstrosity?

“On the outside,” Sheela says, and I can hear the bleakness in her voice. Is she thinking about her mother. I want to ask but perhaps now is not the time. We’re drawing closer to the palace, and I can hear the crowds, like a low rumble of thunder. There’s an opening in the road up ahead, and through it, I catch a glimpse of great gates of gold. They are wide open and there’s a statue on each side that must be a hundred feet high. They’re both depictions of Khronus—he obviously doesn’t want to share any of the glory with the other “gods” around here. Apparently, all the Astralis are related to the gods. Khronus, and so presumably Khaosti, can trace their lineage directly to Selene and Vortex, the first gods who created the Astral Plane, made it their home, and then created the other worlds as playgrounds for their children.

Through the gate is a seething mass of people—there must be thousands filling the huge area. As we get closer, I can see it is divided into areas. Close to the dais, at the front, there’s a slightly less crowded area and the people look well dressed andprosperous. At the rear are what I presume are the refugees waiting to hear what fate Khronus has in mind for them. I doubt it will be good news. I suspect Khronus cares for nothing but his own power. Not even his only son.

We’re heading for the gates. There are more people around us now, and I’m starting to feel a little edgy again, but then Sheela makes a sharp left turn down a narrow side street and we quickly lose the crowds. I think we’re walking parallel with the palace walls, and we travel maybe a mile without speaking. Sheela is moving fast, and I can feel the tension radiating from her. It’s been easy so far—again I can’t help thinking too easy maybe—but I suspect that must be about to change. I can’t hear the crowds anymore; the bulk of the palace must be between us. Finally, we change direction and soon halt in front of a small metal gate. Through it, there’s some sort of room and the tall figure of a guard. He stands to attention as he catches sight of us, a frown forming between his brows.

“My Lady,” he says. “Everyone has been called to the meeting. You should be in your place by now.”

Sheela steps closer and murmurs some words I can’t catch. A spell? The man crumples to the floor. She pulls a key out of her pocket and quickly opens the gate and ushers me inside, locking the gate behind us.

I glance at the unconscious man as we pass. At least I think he’s unconscious, not dead. “That’s a neat trick for a healing witch,” I say.

“It’s a sleeping spell. Useful with uncooperative patients, but it won’t last for long. We need to hurry now.”

And she’s off. I hardly have a chance to take in my surroundings. There’s not a lot to see anyway, just a small stone room with a single doorway. Sheela leads us through it and then down a narrow stone staircase. It’s almost pitch black, and I guide myself with my fingertips against the cold stone. Sheelamust know her way well and her speed barely falters in the dim light. When we reach the bottom of the staircase, the way forward is barred by a metal door. Sheela has come prepared and pulls another key from her voluminous pocket. The door swings open and the air is flooded with the stench of fear and decay.

“Welcome to the dungeons,” Sheela murmurs.

At least we’re not stumbling through the dark here; feeble torches splutter on the walls casting a flickering light. Which is the only positive thing I have to say about the dungeons. I’ve always been sensitive to places, and this one is sending prickles up and down my spine. We are in a narrow corridor, it’s hotter here and the stench is suffocating, as though it’s sucking the oxygen from the air making it hard to breathe. If I hadn’t hated Khronus before, I would have started now. That anyone could condone keeping people in these conditions is truly monstrous. And to think of Khaosti in here… It makes my heart ache.

We pass a spot where the corridor branches off to the left, and a prickle runs over my skin. I hesitate, and peer into the darkness. A strange sense of desolation washes over me, filling me with a sense of dread. But Sheela is already vanishing in the opposite direction, and with one last glance, I hurry after her.

A few minutes later, she holds up her hand and I stop. “We’re approaching the guard station. Do not say anything. I’ll try to take them out, but there will be four of them, and I’ve never tried the spell on more than one before. Be ready…” She sighs, clearly there’s no way to be prepared for what might happen if everything goes tits up. “If it doesn’t work, just run. Back the way we came. I’ll try and hold them off.”

I’m not leaving her here alone, and I’m not leaving without Khaosti. But I just nod. “Go. Do your thing.”

I’m searching through the meagre number of spells I have in my brain. I’m a witch, apparently—and I’m not boasting here—maybe the most powerful ever to be born since the Goddess Selene walked the lands. But I have almost zero training and I have no clue how to awaken my magic. All I have are what my mother implanted in my mind when I was a baby. Unfortunately, there’s nothing in there that will make people sleep.

We turn a corner, and the corridor widens to form a small room. There’s a table in the center and four men sit around it, playing some sort of game with cards. They all stand up quickly—two knocking their chairs over—as we enter the room.

“Lady Sheela,” one says. “We weren’t expecting you. We—”