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The deep voice echoed through the chamber. I spun, looking past Halek to the entrance of the vault, and my blood chilled.

A figure was striding toward the bridge, long legs rapidly eating the ground between us. His hood was up, obscuring his face,

but I recognized him immediately. I knew him from the Temple of Fate, from the rooftops over the crowded market the night

of the firedancer circus. My stomach dropped. The iylvahn assassin had come.

Halek hovered at the edge of the bridge, watching the figure approach. I saw him stiffen; he knew what the iylvahn was, especially

since I had asked him about the kahjai . But he raised a hand in casual greeting as the figure drew closer. “Hey, friend,” he called cheerfully, putting himself between

the stranger and the bridge entrance, I noticed. “This is an odd place to meet one of the people of the Hidden City. You’re

a long way from home.”

“Get out of the way, Fatechaser.” The iylvahn’s voice was ruthless. Without slowing his pace, he reached over his shoulder

and drew a curved sword with a raspy screech, sending a chill up my spine. “I’m not here for you.”

He is here to kill me. I looked frantically across the platform, but there was no bridge on the other side.

Just a sheer plunge between the platform and the narrow ledge around the cavern.

I might be able to make it with a running jump, but it would be close.

The black memory stone hovered over the pedestal before me, but the echo of the iylvahn’s shout was still ringing through my head.

If I left the stone where it was, would he let us go?

“Hey, hold on just a second, now.” Halek backed up several steps, moving onto the bridge, and raised a hand to the approaching

assassin. I saw his other hand slip casually into his belt; recognizing the classic sleight-of-hand diversion, my heart beat

even faster. “We can talk about this,” he said as the assassin reached the foot of the bridge. “This doesn’t have to be unpleasant—this

doesn’t have to be a fight. Look, we can just run away!” And he hurled something to the stones between them.

A flash of brilliant light exploded in the air right in front of the assassin, turning the entire chamber white for a split

second. The assassin reeled back, one arm covering his eyes, and Halek immediately sprinted up the bridge toward me.

“Sparrow, run!”

Run? The kahjai was on the bridge, between us and the only exit off the platform. Did Halek expect us to leap off the other side?

“Where?” I shouted back, as Halek reached the end of the bridge.

“Anywhere away from him!”

The second Halek’s boot touched the edge of the platform, a shudder emanated from the pedestal. It flowed across the stones

and over the edge of the platform, and a terrible noise rose from the darkness of the pit, like thousands of insect wings

buzzing all at once.

I grabbed the stone from where it hovered in the air, and a stab of complete, absolute terror lanced through me like an arrow to the heart, taking my breath away.

For a moment, I couldn’t move, feeling an ancient gaze—cold, intrigued, alien—staring into my soul.

I could feel it probing my mind, easily stripping away all defenses.

In a frigid moment of clarity, I felt it smile.

“Sparrow!” Halek grabbed my wrist, yanking me away from the pedestal just as a curved blade struck its surface with a metallic

clink. We scrambled back, and the assassin stared at me over the pedestal, his pale blue gaze moving from my face to the pulsing

black stone in my hand. If possible, his expression grew even colder, and he strode forward with death in his eyes.

Halek and I swiftly backed away from the assassin stalking us. But there was nowhere to run; he was still between us and the

bridge, pressing us toward the edge of the platform. Around us, the buzzing noise was growing louder, becoming nearly deafening.

Something terrible and many legged crawled over the edge and onto the platform. A huge beetle, its carapace shiny black, scrabbled

up and turned the hollow eyes of a human skull toward me. It hissed, its curved mandibles opening, and then dozens more beetles

with human skulls were pouring over the edge in a black wave that swallowed the side of the platform.

Terror spiked through me. I turned back and instantly had to duck as the assassin’s blade swished over my head. The skull

beetles were coming from everywhere, from all sides of the platform, even dropping from the ceiling overhead. I leaped back

from the horde, somehow avoided another slice from the iylvahn’s blade, and bolted toward the bridge with Halek beside me.

The platform was nearly swallowed in beetles now.

The only clear space was around the pedestal, and it was rapidly shrinking.

I glanced back and saw the iylvahn, surrounded by beetles, sweep his sword along the ground and send several flying off the edge.

Between us and the bridge was a writhing carpet of black, swarming ever closer.

“Halek, we’re not going to make it,” I panted, leaping over a beetle that fell into my path. “There are too many of them!”

“Keep going!” he replied, and his hand dropped to his belt again. “And don’t look directly at the flash when it hits.”

He leaped onto the pedestal, vaulted into the air, and threw a trio of small white orbs at the ground in front of us. I looked

away as the orbs exploded in a blinding flash, drawing a cacophony of screeches from the mass of skull beetles. They skittered

back, confused, turning in circles. Several fell off the edge of the platform, dropping into the void, and the way to the

bridge was clear.

I didn’t look back again. I didn’t know if the assassin had been pulled under by the skull beetles, if they were chewing off

his skin, or if he was somehow hanging on. I didn’t want to know. Halek and I just ran, across the bridge and into the crypts,

then wove through tunnels and passageways until we finally reached the hole up to the palace. I bloodied my hands in my scramble

to the top, tearing my skin and clothes in my haste to get out.

The palace was in a frenzy when we emerged.

Whatever had happened down in the crypts had alerted the skeleton guards as well, and they were frantically marching up and down the palace corridors, the clicking of their bones reverberating off the walls.

Halek and I darted through the palace, playing hide-and-seek with the horde of snarling, frenzied skeleton creatures.

We rounded a corner, and a trio of skeleton guards spun, turning their hollow eyes on us, their muzzles opening in chilling

howls. As we tensed to flee back the way we had come, a tremor ran through the ground, and cracks shot up the walls from below.

I looked up and saw them spreading to the ceiling directly over us, and my stomach clenched.

Without thinking, I grabbed Halek’s arm and pulled him forward, toward the trio of skeleton guards. They snarled at us and

lunged, teeth snapping. Releasing Halek, I ducked, rolling beneath the gnashing fangs, hearing the click of their jaws as

they snapped shut inches from my head. Halek also dove forward, somehow managing to avoid two sets of teeth, and rolled to

his feet beside me.

With a roar, the ceiling behind us collapsed. Dust and pebbles filled the hallway, raining from above and billowing into the

air. Halek and I staggered back, coughing, the ground beneath us still trembling and bits of rock stinging our skin where

they hit. When the dust cleared, the corridor was completely filled with rubble and the skeletons that had been chasing us

were buried under several tons of stone.

I glanced at Halek and saw that his face was ashen in the dim light of his single glowstone.

“Halek.” I touched his elbow and he jumped, turning wide blue eyes on me. For a moment, he looked stunned and terrified, a

shocking change from the grinning, seemingly fearless Fatechaser I had come to know.

Apparently, this near-death experience had affected him more than all the others.

“Come on,” I panted, taking a step back down the hall.

“We’re almost to the throne room, and then we’re free. Let’s get out of here.”

He shook himself, glanced once more at the collapsed hallway, then back to me. “Right,” he breathed as we began to sprint

down the passage, the echoes of our footfalls ringing off the stones. “We’ve definitely overstayed our welcome.”