LOGINLyra's POV"Two," said Malachar.I had never known a single word could weigh so much.The courtyard had gone terribly quiet. The silver wards still swirled around me, humming softly, but the fighting had stopped. Soldiers stood frozen with their blades raised. The stone queens had halted mid-stride. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.Seraphine's blood slid in a thin red thread down the blade at her throat."Three."Think, I told myself. Think.If I surrendered, I would walk into the throne room, place my hand in a silver nightmare, and die. Cassian would be left to bury me. The army would lose its queen. Malachar would take the Moon Heart, and every kingdom on the continent would bend its neck to him.If I refused, my sister's throat would open in front of me."Lyra," Cassian said through the link, raw and ragged. Don't. Whatever he says, do not.She's my sister.I know. His voice cracked. I know, love. I can't ask you to choose. But I can't lose you either."Four."I looked at
Lyra's POVThe ruins knew my name.I felt it in the soles of my feet, in the marrow of my bones, in the old, silver thread of the Heart tangled through my chest. The whole Moon Court was waking around me, stone by stone, like a sleeper roused by a long-lost voice. And it was not afraid.It was glad.Heir, the walls whispered, vast and tender. Daughter of the Moon. You have come home."I don't know what to do," I breathed.You do not need to know. You only need to ask.I stood in a ring of rising light, my hands trembling, my heart hammering against my ribs. The silver wards unfolded around me like the petals of an enormous flower. Beyond them, the courtyard had gone still, armored wolves frozen mid-lunge, crossbowmen staring down from the balconies with slack, terrified faces."What is she doing?" someone shouted."Kill her!""We can't, the High Elder said alive—""Then stop her!"A crossbow bolt screamed toward me.It never arrived. A shimmer of pale light flared in the air, and the
Cassian's POVI counted the enemy the way I had been taught, quickly and without hope.Forty crossbows on the balconies. Sixty armored wolves in the colonnades. Another hundred soldiers in dark uniforms, spread across the walls and archways, closing the garden like the lid of a coffin. And at the center of it all, Malachar, serene as a man at prayer.Against that, I had three fighters, one frail scholar, a wounded woman, and Lyra."Options," I said under my breath."Don't have any," Rowan muttered. "Name one.""Archway behind us.""Blocked. Two minutes ago it wasn't."I didn't need to look. I had heard the iron portcullis crash down. We had walked into this garden through one door, and it had been closed behind us as neatly as a book."North colonnade?""Sixty wolves," said Darius."The fountain?""A dry bowl.""Rooftops?""Crossbows."I swallowed a curse. My ribs were burning where the silver had passed through them, a dull, steady agony that pulsed with every heartbeat. Mira had wa
Lyra's POVHe stepped out of the shadows of the colonnade like a man arriving at his own dinner party.I knew that walk. I had watched it cross a hundred council halls, unhurried and mild, a tall man in plain gray robes with silver threaded through his hair. I had bowed to him at gatherings and ceremonies. I had believed him kind.That was the worst part. Nothing about him had changed. Only I had."Lyra," he said, and his voice was warm. Gentle. Exactly as it had always been. "I'd hoped we might speak like this at last, without all the pretense."Cassian moved in front of me in one swift step, his sword half drawn. Rowan and Darius closed ranks on either side. Elowen leaned heavily on her cane, her face the color of ash."Stay where you are," Cassian said."Your Majesty." Malachar inclined his head. "You look well, considering. The silver can be so stubborn.""Another step, and I'll find out how stubborn you are.""I don't doubt it." The faintest smile touched his mouth. "But I would
Lyra's POVThe footstep came again, slow and heavy, closer this time.Nobody breathed. Cassian pulled me behind a fallen pillar, one hand pressed against my arm. Rowan and Darius melted into the shadows on either side of the throne room's threshold, blades drawn without a whisper of steel.A man stepped into the lamplight.He was tall, broad, dressed in the dark uniform of Malachar's private guard. He carried a bucket of water in one hand and a loaf of bread in the other, and he was humming under his breath, like a man on a boring night watch.He never saw Darius.One arm hooked around his throat. A hand clamped over his mouth. The bucket hit the floor with a soft splash, and the guard's boots drummed against the stone for three seconds, and then he went limp."Alive," Rowan whispered."Alive," Darius agreed, lowering the man to the ground. "Bound and gagged. He'll wake with a headache.""He was carrying food." Cassian's voice was low. "And water. For someone.""For many someones, I'
Lyra's POVWe almost turned back.I stood at the mouth of the pilgrim's road with Seraphine's note crushed in my fist, and every instinct I owned screamed at me to run. *Do not trust the garden.* Garbled, frantic, half-finished. A cry for help, or a warning, or a trap."We can't go back," Cassian said quietly. "The army's already moving north. If we turn around now, we've wasted the head start.""Seraphine might be dying.""She might." He caught my hand. "And if we stand here arguing, we lose the only chance we have to reach that vault first."I looked at him. His face was gray, and the effort of standing was written in every line of it. Behind him, Darius, Rowan, and Elowen waited in silence."We go on," I whispered. "But if it's a trap, I'm never forgiving myself.""Then we'll be careful."We went in.The pilgrim's road swallowed us. It was a narrow, winding tunnel cut through the living rock, its walls carved with faded crescents and the half-erased faces of kneeling worshippers.







