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“Shut up, Ari,” said Sly Boots, pulling the prince into a tight hug.

Thorn stepped back, her knees rocky. She almost said quietly to Zaf, “Can I please give you a hug, Zaf, before we go?”

But before she could, Quicksilver joined them, eyes bright. Bear, sitting beside Sly Boots, watched her walk away and whined, his tail wagging uncertainly.

“Let’s do this before I change my mind,” Quicksilver muttered.

Yes, exactly!Thorn wanted to cry out.I’ve changed my mind!

But she couldn’t find her voice, and suddenly Zaf was instructing everyone, “Hold on to each other, and don’t let go.” A sharp stormy charge was building in the air, and it was too late for changing minds.

Thorn swallowed hard, her hand sweaty around Quicksilver’s. She looked up just as Zaf grabbed Bartos’s hand and pressed her face into his arm.

“One,” whispered Zaf, trembling, her skin brightening like the rising sun, “two... three.”

Thorn heard Bear’s mournful howl.

The world turned white.

They landed on a sheet of black stone, so hard the impact hurt Thorn’s knees.

Someone shoved past her, then someone else right after them. A flailing hand knocked her in the chest. She lost herfooting and stumbled. Quicksilver caught her by the elbow.

Thorn pushed her goggles into her hair. Her vision shimmered, bright and colorful around the edges like she’d looked at a fire for too long. She blinked hard and looked around.

They were on a narrow path of stone that wound in long zigzags up the tall Westlin cliffs. The air was dark and damp. It smelled of rain and black soil and the electric burn of eldisks.

They werehome.

Screaming soldiers ran past them, their dirty faces streaked with sweat. They were running up from Estar to Westlin, carrying supplies on their backs. Some rode their warhorses; others tugged them blindfolded up the cliffs.

Bartos stared at them as they rushed past. “Hey! Where are you going?” He waved his arms. “The war’sthatway!”

“War’s over,” a soldier hollered, racing past on her horse. “The Break is lost!”

Thorn flattened herself against the cliff wall, Quicksilver and Noro on either side of her. The stone path quaked under her feet. Waves of black dust rained down from above, clogging her nose and mouth. A clattering boulder tumbled past. Quicksilver yanked Thorn out of the way.

The stone crashed into a running soldier and knocked him screaming off the path.

Thorn ran to the edge and looked down.

She followed the man’s spinning, screaming form until he disappeared into the gaping black maw of the Break.

And the Break... the Break was widening.

As Thorn watched, new fingers of the Break raced across the plains of Estar, as if someone had stepped onto a melting frozen lake, and now the ice was ready to shatter. Howls split the air, drowning out the shaking cliffs and the splitting ground and the frightened cries of the fleeing people.

Thorn’s blood rushed hot and loud in her ears.

Those howls...

The Gulgot.

An explosive bang shook the world, and then another, throwing Thorn back from the cliff’s edge. A third bang threw the fleeing soldiers off their feet, sent boulders flying down the cliff sides.

Behind Thorn, someone called out her name—Quicksilver, maybe? Noro?

But Thorn had to see for herself. Did those loud booms mean the Gulgot was falling, again and again?