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What if, soon, it will be gone?

Celestyna closed her weary eyes. Mender of the Break, her parents had named her. Some mender she had turned out to be. So far she’d done nothing but sit idly, waiting for someone else to save the Vale, all while her people fled and her storms died.

But no one was coming. She was alone. And if Brier failed... then what?

Queen-ieee,whispered the Fetterwitch, or maybe it wasCelestyna’s own mind, and then came a thought so sharp and clear that Celestyna flinched, her eyes snapping open.

“I know what I must do,” she whispered. She looked at the gray skies beyond her windows and felt cold all over, for in the murk of the clouds, she could see the Fetterwitch’s smiling face.

“What?” asked Orelia, sniffling.

Celestyna stroked her sister’s hair. “Nothing.”

Travel fast, Brier Skystone,she thought.Find us new light.

But she didn’t send those thoughts whispering down the mountain, a small blessing for the girl and her guards.

Instead, Celestyna’s scattered thoughts turned north, to the high dark mountains some miles away, where a witch sat inside a cave, waiting.

She couldn’t wait for Brier to travel all the way to the eastern mountains and back. The Gulgot might escape the Break any day. Brier needed as much time as her queen could give her, she needed someone strong to hold the Vale together until she returned—and there was only one way to make that happen.

Celestyna shivered, holding her sister close.

She would have to visit the Fetterwitch.

.9.

The Land Rises Up

The chasm known as the Break—hundreds of miles long, hair-thin in some stretches and wide as lakes in others—shifted like a serpent twisting in its sleep.

A rattling groan drifted up from the darkness, along with an awful hot stink, like the breath of someone who had never minted their teeth, and now had a mouth gone black and soft and sour.

Thorn wound her fingers through Noro’s mane. They had ridden through the Fall Gate the day before, and made camp halfway down the cliffs for the night. Thenarrow switchback trail from Westlin to Estar was long and treacherous. Thorn hadn’t slept a wink. She had curled up against Noro and cried into his coat, not even caring if Bartos and the queen’s soldiers heard her.

Now it was the next day, and they were crossing the Break by way of a bridge that trembled under the weight of the warhorses. If Noro minded Thorn’s tight grip in his mane, he kept quiet about it. He’d said nothing since leaving Aeria, just as she hadn’t.

Thorn wanted to ask him if he was all right, but she couldn’t find her voice. Her eyes were heavy and her heart even heavier. Her muscles throbbed from riding a unicorn she wasn’t supposed to ride.

Of course Noro wasn’t all right. Neither of them was.

Maybe they would never be again.

The queen’s words trudged through her mind on a never-ending road:You will not be allowed to return to Westlin until you have completed this task.

Thorn’s throat zipped up tight. The tears that never really left her eyes welled up once more.

A gentle nudge against her arm made her look up. Bartos had come up alongside her on his warhorse. His face was onegiant, worried frown. His dark bangs lay damp and curled against his wan skin.

“Do you need to stop and rest?” he asked quietly.

Thorn shook her head. Getting up that morning and leaving their camp had been hard enough. If she stopped again, she might stay there.

The captain brought his horse to a halt and held up his gloved fist.

The other soldiers reached into their saddlebags. Each withdrew a round, ruddy metal disk.

Eldisks.