We near the summit of Frostmead before midday. The deep basin on the other side that holds the Lake of Tears is now visible. The lake is as wide and deep as a small sea, and it glimmers blue as cut sapphire in the summer sun. The Isle of Lebed is a green jewel in its center, surmounted by the castle known as Alder Tower.

My heart swells on instinct at the sight of its turrets, the Bell Tower and the Lookout, even though I know only danger waits for me there. But I can’t help it; I spent so many summers on Lebed, riding Zmaj on the grounds, practicing fencing and archery, my court manners and my magic. And, of course, getting into mischief with Dette by plaguing the stable hands or sneaking off to swim in the lake, or having a picnic in the green woods with food stolen from the kitchen.

I spare a glance for Neev, who stands silently at the summit. She has her arms outstretched, letting the wind wash over her. It whips the cloak backward and away from her shoulders, molding the loose shirt she wears to the soft curves of her body.

“Neev.”

She turns her head to look at me over her shoulder.

“You know I’m going ahead. But if you have any doubts at all...about going on, or using your power, or anything else, then you don’t have to come with me.”

She bites her lip so hard it turns white, but shakes her head. “If you’re going on, so am I.”

Despite the certainty of her words, her face is a mask of doubt.

“If you must use your power, remember what we practiced. I know it didn’t go well, but if you focus it on him, using emotion, I think you could do as well as you did that night you knocked me down. Better, even.”

Neev nods and moves away from the windy summit, back toward the path. I tighten my boot laces and stride after her.

The closer we get to the lake, the more anxious I become. Finally, we reach the glade at the edge of Frostmead. It’s less than an hour to shore, but darkness is coming.

“We should make camp here,” says Plover. He doesn’t like to travel by night after what happened to Ibis.

“No. We’ll make our way to the quay and take one of the boats moored there. It’s better if we approach under cover of darkness. No one has ever tried to take the tower by daylight. In ancient times, warring armies always came by night using muffled oars.”

“They carried boats over the mountain?”

“I didn’t say it was a good strategy, but all methods of approach are visible from the Lookout. Once we’re on the island, I know a secret entrance to the castle. A tunnel that was an old servant’s entrance. Dette and I used it to get out of our lessons sometimes.”

We find an old skiff with a high, pointed prow moored to the quay. Gate and Plover muffle the oars with strips of cloth and the four of us clamber into it. I hide my vial inside my cloak so the light doesn’t give us away.

Plover sits at the front of the boat, searching for obstacles with his keen eyes in the perfect darkness. I sit aft, steering the rudder as Gate and Neev row. There is little wind and the muffled oars make no sound in the water.

We ground the boat on the sandy beach and Plover stows it beneath a crag.

It takes me a while to find the place I’m seeking in the dark. It’s an old stone cottage with a water wheel hidden in a glade, overrun by ivy. I know the entrance to the tunnel is at the back of the cottage, hidden beneath a clump of aster.

“We should light a torch,” grumbles Gate.

“We’re not lighting anything,” I reply, my teeth clenched.

We spend almost an hour casting about fruitlessly in the underbrush. Beside me, Gate grunts and garbles a muffled oath and I assume he has met with the business end of a bramble. I can tell he’s beyond annoyed with me, but it has been years since I last used the tunnel, and I can’t be expected to find it in record time on a night this black. I ignore him.

My foot catches against a stone lip. I put my hand out and feel around beneath the shrub until my knuckles bump into something hard and cold. “Ow!”

It’s the rounded edge of the tunnel. I lead the way inside and wait until all four of us are present to bring out my lightning vial, brushing my fingers over it to awaken the rotating strands of crackling energy within. The light glints off the wet stones in glittering hues of deep purple, turquoise, and brilliant blue, like sunlight awakening a raw slab of fluorspar.

The tunnel was built as an escape route in case of siege, because of its close access to the beach, but it was blocked by a pile of stones when Dette and I found it. We cleared them without telling anyone and used it as a place to nap on hot days or escape to the cool of the forest and the lake.

The tunnel is cold but clammy. Moisture beads on the low ceiling and drips into my hair and down the back of my tunic. My boots splash in shallow puddles and a soft whispering accompanies our footfalls as we walk—the sound of Plover’s wingtips brushing along the cobbled floor.

The walls are close, and I can hear Neev’s every breath, every echo as Gate nervously clears his throat. The tunnel was always a place of coolness and peace and secret delight, but now it closes in on me, like a dream of being trapped in a suffocating womb. I wish I could abandon them and run ahead, or at least scream at them to be quiet.

I do neither. I bite my knuckle and squeeze my diamond vial until it hurts.

At last, we reach the door at the end of the tunnel. It leads into a secluded corner of the walled courtyard and it’s stuck from years of disuse. Gate wedges his shoulder against it and helps me shove it open, and I claw my way through a curtain of ivy into the brisk air of the courtyard.

Neev follows with Plover on her heels, gasping as if the tunnel deprived him of air.

“Are you alright?” Gate places a tentative hand on his shoulder.

“I will be. Just let me breathe for a moment before we go in.” He nods to the looming castle to our left.

I put my vial back into the folds of my cloak. The ragged lace on my boot has come loose again. I bend to tighten it and hear Plover draw and nock an arrow.

Crouching and whirling to where he is aiming in the darkness, I see a lone figure clad in white walking slowly through the shadows of the ivy-covered wall.

Gate quickly mirrors Plover, aiming his crossbow.

“Should we loose, Your Highness?”

“No. Wait.”

I crouch in silence, watching as the figure glides closer. The heavy clouds part to reveal the bright sickle moon hanging low over the lake, revealing a woman with wild black hair and white wings trailing over the grass.

I gasp. “It’s Dette.”

“What if it’s not?” asks Gate. “What if it’s her shade? Or the mage taking her form? The things we saw in Poison Forest...”

I think about my theory that Rothbart takes on the powers of his victims, and that he stole my mother’s gift for transfiguration. But Rothbart’s attempts to steal her power went wrong. Poison Forest is proof of that.

“I don’t think it is,” I say, “but if I’m wrong, I’ll bear the weight of my mistake. Stay here.”

Sweeping back the hood of my cloak, I stand and leave the seclusion of the corner where we’re hidden. I’m halfway to Dette when she sees me and stops. In the moonlight, her light brown skin looks opalescent, her eyes wide and startled.

“Dette. Is it you?”

“Yes.”

I clutch her hands when I reach her, feeling the fragile bones beneath my fingers. She holds herself as regally as ever, and she’s whole, not visibly sick or maimed. But when she speaks, her voice is a hollow shell. And she’s thinner, her cheekbones sharper than before. There are dark circles beneath her eyes.

“You’re all right.”

“Thedra, why did you come here?”

“I had to.” My throat is thick with tears. “I couldn’t just leave you to possibly die! And the way we left things ...”

“You must go,” she whispers. She glances around the courtyard. “Now, before he sees you.”  

“I came all this way for you.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t go with you.”

“Don’t be thickheaded.”

“Thedra, listen. He is powerful. Cunning. If you made it this far, it’s because he wanted you to.”

I stare at her, thinking her captivity and fear of Rothbart have made her imagine him to be more powerful than he is. He may be a great mage, but he doesn’t have the ability to see inside my mind. Not yet, anyway.

“Dette, come now and tell me everything later. We came through the secret tunnel. Remember it?”

“Of course.”

I wonder why she didn’t use it to escape, but I don’t have time to ask the question before she answers it.

“I can’t go beyond the lake. If I do, I’ll...change. I’ve tried. The further I get from Lebed, the weaker I become. He’s harnessed my magic. Now go back. Quickly.” She looks over her shoulder at the Lookout—the pinnacle of Alder Tower. “He sleeps a few hours after moonrise, but he can see us from there if he wakes up.”

Her hand clutches my arm, long nails digging into my flesh. I’m reminded of the sylph girl again and I want to grab Dette and drag her to the tunnel entrance, but reason tells me to hear her out. I don’t understand what she means about changing, but if she doesn’t want to come with me, there’s a valid reason.

“You’ve been betrayed,” she whispers. “Someone in your company helped you get here.”

“That’s impossible. We nearly died in Thornewood and were attacked on the way to the pass. Everyone is trustworthy.” I turn back to look at Plover and Gate, hidden in the shadows.

That’s when I realize Neev is gone.

I stride back to them. “Where is Neev? She was with us when we came out of the tunnel.”

Gate turns in a circle, searching our surroundings. “She was right behind me.”

“Neev?” Dette looks puzzled. “My lady-in-waiting?”

“She came with me to help free you. She insisted.”

Dette’s nut-brown eyes darken to black in the moonlight. “She’s gone to him.”

I shake my head. “That’s impossible,” I say again. “Not Neev. She—she loves me.”

The look Dette gives me sinks deep into the pit of my stomach like a knife. It’s the same look I’ve had on my face a hundred times when trying to understand how Rothbart fooled my mother so easily. How he fooled all of us.

“Quick,” she whispers. “Follow me into the castle. If she knows you came in through the secret entrance, she’ll lead him there, but I can sneak you through the servant’s quarters into the back garden.”

Gate has lowered his crossbow, but Plover’s is still trained on Dette. “Why should we follow you? Neev accompanied us from your father’s palace and showed only fealty to Princess Thedra, but we don’t even know if you’re who you appear to be.”

Dette’s brow furrows. Even here, as a captive, she is still the High Empress’s daughter, and all peoples of the realm owe her their allegiance. “We haven’t time to debate whether or not I am Odette,” she says. “Believe what I say and come with me or flee the way you came. The choice is yours.”

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” I say. “Plover and Gate can go back if they want to.”  

Without another word, she turns and strides across the courtyard toward Alder Tower, and I follow her. When I look back, Gate and Plover are following us at a cautious distance, crossbows drawn. Neev is still nowhere to be found.