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And Thorn—oh,Thorn—struggled to break free of theguards holding her back, her tear-bright eyes fixed on Brier.

“Thorn,” Brier choked out.“Noro!”

But several royal soldiers had thrown silver ropes around Noro’s neck, and they were tugging and jerking those ropes, even though he gnashed his teeth and shrieked horrible ancient screams that burst open like thunder.

The queen shook Brier. “I told you to shut up!”

“Let the child go,” ordered the glaring dark-haired stranger.

“A poor choice of words, all things considered,” said Queen Celestyna. Her steaming hand quaked against Brier’s shoulders. She pushed Brier over the railing’s edge until her head hung unsupported in the chill wind.

Brier stared down the cliffs, her vision spinning. Tears dropped down the end of her nose and vanished into the air below her.

“Wait, please,” Thorn pleaded. “We’ve brought you witches from the Star Lands. Quicksilver and Ari are their names, and they can help us defeat the Gulgot. You don’t have to do this!”

For a moment Queen Celestyna was silent.

Then she began to shake with desperate laughter. The sound carved all the warmth out of Brier’s body.

“Witches!” the queen cried. “You’ve brought me mere husks.You might as well have gone to the Star Lands and come back with a pair of old shepherds.”

“It’s true we can’t perform magic anymore,” said an unfamiliar voice—the red-and-silver-haired woman, Brier thought. “But we know how magic works. How curses are engineered.” A pause. “Queen Celestyna, what’s happened to your hand?”

“My hand is no concern of yours, you miserable, useless piece of Star Land trash.”

“Stop it!” Thorn cried. “Listen to me, all of you soldiers! How can you let her do this? How can you let her kill them?”

A silence fell over the throne room, and the queen jerked a little, as if she had been struck. Her grip loosened just enough for Brier to scramble back up over the railing, ready to run for Thorn—but the queen caught her coat and held fast.

Thorn struggled and fought too, and then her eyes locked with Brier’s, and time grew slow and sticky. Looking into her twin’s frightened brown eyes felt to Brier like slipping into bed at Flower House, their parents downstairs, Mazby asleep on Thorn’s pillow, Noro keeping watch in the gardens.

It felt like knowing that, at least for the next few hours, while she slept with her twin beside her, she was going to be safe and cared for.

“Every bolt of lightning we harvest has a witch inside it!” Thorn shouted, looking earnestly around at the royal guards. “And when our soldiers throw the eldisks into the Break—”

The queen grabbed Brier by the collar and heaved her high into the air, too far past the railing for her to reach safety even if she was brave enough to try. It happened so fast she couldn’t even scream.

The older boy cried out. The red-and-silver-haired woman struggled to break free of the soldiers holding her back.

Noro shouted Brier’s name, his voice collapsing.

The girl huddled on the floor wearily lifted her head. She looked so frighteningly pale, so wan and strange. Was she a stormwitch?

Thorn went utterly, deathly still.

But suddenly Brier wasn’t afraid. Or maybe her fear had gone past the place where she could measure it.

Confusion drifted across the faces of the soldiers, and a small hope kicked in Brier’s chest.

Thorn had indeed surprised them. They hadn’t known the truth.

They hadn’t known the truth.

The castle, then, wasn’t only full of liars and murderers, as Brier had feared.

Maybe, Brier thought, the queen’s soldiers were people just like Brier had once been—doing what they thought was right for their country, getting paid their wages, going home to their Flower Houses and their Mazbys and their safe, cozy beds.

Maybe all they needed was to be told the truth, and then things would start to change.