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Behind me, I heard Aric doing the same. When I finished emptying my guts into the capital’s streets and turned around, he was wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist and looking queasy.

“Archives and indices.” His voice even sounded green. “Please, let’s never do that again.”

I shuddered. “Not if I can help it.” A bit of a kick, Tatiana had said. Being crushed by a battering ram would have been a more accurate description.

I took in our surroundings. It was raining. Thin, cold drops darkened the shoulders of my coat and splotched like fallen tears on my sleeves. The weather explained the empty streets, and why no one was calling the city guard to complain that two disheveled nobles had plummeted out of the nighttime air with an enchanted spittoon in hand. I was suddenly grateful for Gildenheim’s gloomy climes.

The buildings lining the narrow street, crammed together like a mouth of bad teeth, could have used a fresh coat of paint. A few sported window boxes bristling with last year’s dead herbs. The overripe odor of the flowing gutters was notable, but not unbearable. Most significantly, the street was paved. We weren’t in the city’s nicest district, but we had by no means landed in its worst, either.

The spittoon, entirely unaffected, had rolled into the gutter. Raindrops pinged on its shining sides with incongruously cheerful notes. I picked it up—carefully, so that I didn’t accidentally find myself careening across Gildenheim again—and stuffed it into my satchel.

I wiped my hands dry on my coat, then tucked them into my pockets. The rain might be helping to hide our arrival, but there its advantages ended. Aric, barefoot on the cold stones, was already shivering.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to steal you another pair of shoes?” I offered.

“While I appreciate your dedication to stealing from my subjects on my behalf, I must refuse.” Aric looked over his shoulder as if he expected an assassin to jump out of the nearest window. Which, to be fair, was possible. “It’s more important to reach the castle while we still have time.”

Before sunrise. He didn’t need to elaborate.

I glanced at the sky. Grey sheets of clouds obscured the stars. No trace of sunset colors remained. Surely it couldn’t be more than an hour after dark, but we couldn’t chance running out of time. Not when so much needed to be accomplished before dawn.

I settled the satchel higher on my shoulder. “Lead the way.”

We set off along the street, heading uphill towards the wealthier districts—and the castle, perched above the city like a bird of prey.

It took us another hour to pass through the common districts. I’d expected Aric to lead us straight to the castle gates, but instead, as we neared the noble district where the houses bloated, we veered off. I was too out of breath to ask him where we were going. Exhaustion was catching up with me and the climb was precipitous enough to be challenging, especially with my healing rib.

Finally, Aric stopped at a building that smelled strongly of hay and manure. An equine snort came from inside.

“A stable,” I said. “Of course.”

Aric gave me a wry look. We slipped through the stable door. The interior was lit by the steady, clear glow of an Adept lantern. Unlike Pranto’s charges, the occupants here appeared well cared for. A dozen pink noses pushed eagerly over stall doors as Aric and I stepped inside, hoping for treats. I rubbed a chestnut’s nose as I followed Aric down the aisle, and it snorted out a warm puff of hay-scented air and attempted to sample my sleeve.

Aric went to an unoccupied stall at the end and swept aside hay with his bare foot, revealing a trapdoor. The winged horse of Gildenheim was burned into the wood.

“Ah,” I said. “A trapdoor with the royal emblem. This doesn’t at all suggest a secret way into the castle.”

“It won’t work for anyone who isn’t royal,” Aric said, but he sounded amused. “May I borrow the dagger you insist on hiding up your sleeve?”

I slid my knife from its wrist sheath. Had he known it was there the entire time? “Are you planning to stab your way through? That seems more like Marya’s style.”

“Not exactly.” Aric took the knife from me and held his free hand over the trapdoor, grimacing in anticipation.

“Don’t—” I started.

Before I could snatch the knife back, he pressed the blade to the tip of his smallest finger until a tiny drop of blood beaded, then handed the dagger back to me.

“There. Unpleasant, but no dramatic blood loss necessary.” He crouched and smeared the blood along the trapdoor’s wood. “My ancestors have always been practical. It’s hard to wield a saber with a gash across your palm.”

I wiped the blade clean on my thigh and returned it to its sheath. I looked down just as the blood vanished into the wood, and a soft flare of light illuminated the edges of the trapdoor.

“More blood magic?”

“Keyed to the royal family’s blood.” Aric heaved the door open, revealing a drop into darkness. “After you, your Grace. You’re the one with the poker.”

Drawing the poker, I stepped past him and peered down into the tunnel. I was greeted by a wash of cool air that smelled of earth and damp.

I sat and slid my legs over the edge. The darkness was oppressive, a moist, crushing black that made me think of being smothered. I hesitated. Fighting my way through the castle’s main gates suddenly seemed a more appealing option.

Tatiana wouldn’t have hesitated. She would have charged into the tunnel like the hero of a folktale, doing whatever it took to rescue me. I’d never shared her boldness, but I couldn’t balk now. If this was the way in, I had to take it. For my husband. For my retinue. For my sister.

I held my breath and dropped into the darkness.

“I don’t see why Marya didn’t just take me this way before,” I muttered sometime later.

“Because she didn’t trust you,” Aric said. “Which, I might remind you, was mutual. But we had better keep quiet. The walls are thin here.”

I closed my mouth and breathed carefully so I didn’t inhale too much of the tunnel’s dusty air and give us away by sneezing.

The trapdoor in the stables, as it turned out, led into a network of spyways—including one that took us straight to the castle’s heart. This passage proved narrower, dustier, and far more disused than the route Marya had taken me in the ambassadorial wing. The neglect only served to deepen a fear I hadn’t known I possessed.

Darkness lay heavy over us; we made our way by feel, a slow and painful progression. I pressed close behind Aric, who had taken the lead when we reached the first branch in the passages, clutching the poker and trying not to let it rasp against the walls or floor. My chest squeezed tight, my breath coming sharp. The weight of the castle’s stones felt palpable above us.

I adjusted my grip on the poker and swallowed down my nerves. Somewhere nearby, down in the black and damp, were Julieta, Catalina, and the rest of my retinue. For their sake, and Tatiana’s, I could at least pretend at bravery.

At last, just as I thought I could stand the heavy darkness no longer, I saw it: a rectangle of pale light, glimmering as faint as the stars on a full moon night. The doorway out.

I reached for Aric’s arm in warning at the same time he reached for mine, so that our hands crossed paths and then met in the middle. Now I could see his profile, ever so faintly outlined. We crept the last few steps together with hands clasped, the poker cradled against my ribs, my breath sounding too loud to my own ears.

Silence greeted us at the portal. We waited a full minute, then another. Then, cautiously, Aric turned a hidden latch, his hands faintly gilded by the trickle of light, and pushed the door open.

Over his shoulder, I saw a stone hallway lit by Adept lanterns. The place was much brighter than I’d expected, given how far we were belowground.

“Let’s go,” Aric whispered. “Before anyone comes.” We weren’t sure how often the guards patrolled, or when they changed the watch. It wasn’t the sort of detail that kings typically needed to be informed of.

I moved in front of Aric, poker at the ready, and started down the hallway. The lanterns’ light passed over us with a quality like water. Behind me, Aric’s bare feet were quiet on the floor. I thought about what substances might be darkening the stones we trod and suppressed a shudder.

We reached the first cell—a three-sided stone chamber fronted with iron bars, each as thick as my fist. Empty. The door hung ajar, gaping like a dead man’s mouth. I grimaced, thinking of Tatiana—thank the seas she and her captors hadn’t reached Arnhelm yet. The thought of my sister being locked in one of these cells sent oil slicking through my blood.

We moved on. Three more empty cells. Apparently Gildenheim didn’t keep many prisoners. Either that, or the people we sought had been moved somewhere else. Or—

No. I couldn’t let myself consider that possibility. My retinue was fine. They had to be.

As I reached the next cell, the light caught a group of figures against the far wall. It gleamed on a muscled shoulder, a drawn-up knee, a head of dark hair. Tailored fabric in bright colors, now muted by grime.

I snatched the nearest lantern from its sconce and held it close to the bars. “Catalina? Julieta?”

Heads raised, turning towards me. One of the figures scrambled to her feet.

“Your Grace!”

Catalina’s voice sent a thrill of recognition through my entire body. She was at the bars in an instant, her hands reaching through to grip mine. Her face was drawn, her hair matted with what I prayed wasn’t blood. Anger burned in my throat. If my people had been harmed, I would make Varin pay for every ounce of pain with three times his own.

“Your Grace, thank the seas you’re all right. But what are you doing here? I thought—”

I could explain everything later, when we had more time. I cut her off. “Are you all right? Is anyone hurt? Is Julieta—”

“Your Grace.” Something about Catalina’s tone stopped me short. “We’re all right—the six of us. But Julieta…”

A coil of dread tightened around my heart. “Say it.”

“We don’t know where she is. None of us have seen her since your wedding night.”

I forced myself to keep breathing. Julieta’s absence didn’t mean she was dead. She was talented, and clever, and she could take care of herself. She might be hiding out in the castle, or even in the city. There was no reason to think she hadn’t survived.

I would find her. But right now, I had to focus on the task at hand.

“We need to get you out of here.”

I turned to Aric, who stepped forward to join me.

Catalina’s eyes widened. “They told us your Majesty was dead.”

“Fortunately for all of us,” I said, “he’s very much alive.”

“Thanks to Bianca.” Aric looked at me. “I’m going to need that knife of yours again.”

I slid it from my wrist sheath. “Please tell me this isn’t more blood magic.”

Aric took the knife. “It’s more blood magic.”

“Step back, Catalina.” I watched with resignation as Aric pricked his finger again, reopening the first cut. “I’m beginning to think this entire castle is drenched in royal blood.”

“It probably is,” Aric replied, dry as old bone, and squeezed a drop of blood into the keyhole. I couldn’t decide whether he was joking or not. Gildenheim’s monarchy seemed alarmingly comfortable with spilling its own blood.

Light flared from within the lock. A click, and the cell door swung inwards.

Aric was already moving down the corridor. “Get them out. I need to find Marya.”

I hesitated, looking between him and Catalina. The rest of my guards were helping each other up, moving towards the open cell door as quietly as they could.

Catalina nudged me. “Go with him. He needs you.”

“But you—”

“Your Grace, the man isn’t even wearing shoes. He may be king, but from the looks of it, he needs you more than we do.” She gave me a smile that, though strained, was genuine. “We’ve already been in this cell for a week. Another few minutes isn’t going to end us.”

I swallowed, tasting the familiar tang of guilt. “Cata,” I whispered, “I’m so, so sorry.”

“This is my duty, your Grace. I knew the risks when I volunteered.”

I shook my head. “Not for that. For abandoning you.”

I met her eyes, choked by my own regret. Hoping she knew what I meant. That my inadequate apology wasn’t just for the catastrophe of this journey, but for all the ways I had let her down. All the times I’d chosen cowardice and called it duty.

Catalina held my gaze. Despite all the pain I’d caused her, there was no trace of anger in her eyes. She took my hand and pressed it between her own.

“Go after him, Bianca,” she said softly. “We’ll have time later.”

I squeezed her hand in return before letting go. My chest felt lighter, my breathing easier. There was no undoing the hurt I’d inflicted on her in our youth, and I had much to account for from the years between. But maybe, going forward, we could try again after all—not as lovers, but more importantly, as friends.

Recovering my composure, I broke away from Catalina and turned to find Aric.

He’d stopped outside another cell door, not far down the hall. Behind the bars, her black hair coming loose from its knot, was Marya. She turned from Aric to me and raised one eyebrow.

“Well, this is a night full of surprises. I can truthfully say I never expected to be rescued by a barefoot king and his poker-wielding wife.”

“Heir apparent,” Aric muttered. “Not king yet.” He squeezed his finger again, milking out another drop of blood.

“Coronation’s at dawn,” Marya said sardonically. “You could still be fashionably late.”

I was starting to like her now that she didn’t have a sword pointed at my neck. “Actually, we’re hoping to be right on time.”

The lock clicked. The door swung open, and Marya stepped into the corridor. She crushed Aric into a sudden hug, nearly impaling herself on the knife he held. He let out a startled wheeze.

“You muckhead,” Marya muttered into his chest. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“Nearly did,” Aric choked. “That’s why I’m here.”

A step in the hall behind me. I turned, my hand tightening on the poker, then relaxed. My guards had caught up to us—looking somewhat the worse for wear, but all on their feet and apparently uninjured.

Marya released Aric, who was out of breath but smiling wider than I’d ever seen. She cracked her knuckles and switched to Damarian.

“Well, it looks like the crew’s all here. What do you say we run some people through?”