THE WOMAN PEERED out from the shadows like a wraith, her teeth brown, her cheeks hollow. “I know you,” she said, smiling at Evie with wide, darting eyes. “We’ve met before, haven’t we?”

Evie managed to push herself up. There was no comfortable way to sit, however. The walls had been cobbled together out of jagged fieldstones and hastily applied mortar. With a trembling hand, Demetra passed her a wooden cup. She drank. Her head was still thin and gauzy but becoming clearer by the moment.

“Why have they brought us here?” said Evie.

“Well . . . I suspect you’ve died. As I have.” Her voice was as thin as mist.

“What are you talking about? We’re locked in a tower, that’s all.” Evie glanced around now that her eyes had adjusted to the stifling darkness. The lookout room was small and quite claustrophobic. The only way out was the door they’d come in through. There were no windows, only slim smoke vents at the top of the domed ceiling, and they were narrow enough that she couldn’t have even gotten her arm through. The floor was the same fieldstone as the walls, though it had thankfully been polished to relative smoothness. There was a spinning wheel with thread next to the table. Small figures made of straw and fabric sat about the room. There were bears and dogs and dragons and humans. The woman’s friends, Evie supposed, before she and Demetra had been brought in to fill that role.

“This is surely a wasted question,” said Evie, “but I don’t suppose you know a way out of here—”

“Why do you say we’ve died?” said Demetra, cutting across her. “What do you mean by that?”

“Princesses aren’t allowed in the Glade.” Her eyes were wide, aglow in the wan candlelight. And no matter how much they darted about, they always seemed to end up back on Evie. “My father keeps things orderly round here.”

“So he told us.”

“When the witches came, my father struck a bargain with them. He had to. For the greater good.”

“What sort of bargain?”

“If he killed me, the witches would leave Stromberg alone. So Mother brought me up here, and I died. And the witches don’t come round anymore.”

“That’s why they drugged us,” said Demetra. “Having princesses in the castle would violate the bargain.”

The only other time Evie remembered her muscles feeling so paper thin and weak was after she had eaten a handful of strange berries in the forest as a child. She had fallen violently ill, and her dragon mother had wept many tears thinking she was about to lose her youngest daughter. Instead, Evie managed a recovery. But for weeks after, her muscles had trembled like they were doing now.

“Mother always told me, ‘Falada, someday I’ll find you a friend,’ and now—”

“Falada?” said Demetra. “Your name’s Falada?” Suddenly, she reached inside her dress pocket and took out the class portrait she’d found at the witch encampment. “Falada . . . Falada . . .” She unfolded it and found one of the many faces that had been crossed out. “That’s you, isn’t it?”

Falada crept forward, her eyes as wide as a possum’s. She studied the portrait. Her jaw began to harden. “And I’ve been struck out. I am very much dead, it seems.” Then she turned to Evie with a jagged smile. “I do know you, don’t I? You’re in my company as well. I recognize you!”

“No,” said Evie with sympathy. “I’m afraid I’m quite a bit younger than you. You’ve already graduated and I’ve only just finished my second year.”

Falada looked unsure. Her penetrating eyes began to water as she studied Evie’s face. “I’m sorry,” she said in a voice filled with sorrow. “I’ve been up here a long time.”

“Falada, listen,” said Demetra urgently. “This is my mother here. Did you know her?” She pointed to her mother’s face, one of the last without a mark. She was only three places over from Falada.

“Cadet Christa,” said Falada, and her face changed in an instant. It was as though seeing her old company had given her a thin tether back to reality. “Christa helped me survive the Helpless Maiden. I’ll never forget that.” She sat up straight as a horrible realization came over her. “Why are so many of us crossed out? What is this?”

“We don’t know,” said Evie. “We found it mixed in with a load of other papers.”

“May I?” said Falada. Demetra handed her the portrait. As she looked at the faces of her childhood company-mates, a bittersweet smile appeared. “Your mother is a remarkable woman.” She laughed, a sound as delicate as a bat’s wings. “I remember in our final challenge we had to infiltrate a mountain kingdom that had been taken by a witch. When we got there . . . I don’t know what happened. The first girls in . . .” She shook her head. “All their training left them. Our plan was ruined. We lost four of our company that day. Four girls who should be in this picture.” She handed it back to Demetra. “It was your mother who got us back on track. She took over the whole mission. She reminded us who we were, what we’d trained for . . .” She pointed at the picture of her company. “That group right there defeated the witch. Your mother is a true hero.”

Demetra looked down at the portrait in her hands in confusion. “Perhaps this isn’t my mother.”

“Of course it is, Demetra,” said Evie. “Why is it so hard to think your mother could be heroic? Look at you; you volunteered to come on this mission knowing how dangerous it would be.”

“You sort of forced me to come—”

“Because I know you. I know how courageous, compassionate, kind, and disciplined you are. And I’m not at all surprised to hear the same about your mother.”

“I just . . . I guess I never really asked about her life before my sister was born. Her princess life.”

“And you’ll ask her once we get out of here,” said Evie. “What can you tell us, Falada? There must be something we can use.” She tried to stand, but her head instantly began to spin and she fell to the floor.

“Careful!” said Falada, reaching out to rescue the cup before Evie could spill it. “No more water until tomorrow.”

Evie pushed herself against the wall, straining for breath.

“Is Princess Hazelbranch still there? She was my favorite of the House Princesses. So many favorites before I died.”

“You haven’t died!” snapped Evie. “You’re here with us. And we’re going to find a way out, all right? You and me and Demetra. We’ll do it together.” She hadn’t meant to get angry, but the dizziness scared her.

“Princess de Boncouer was my favorite in second class. And Princess Rottweil. She taught me to speak with animals. I have rats now, but they’re not very good company. Not like real friends.”

Evie gritted her teeth and tried to pull herself up using the jagged stones of the wall. She made it to her knees, which held despite their violent shuddering. She tried to get to her feet, but the muscles in her thighs felt like overstretched fiddle strings. Finally, with incredible concentration, she clung to the wall, her fingers scraped and cut.

“Listen to me,” she said, staring directly into Falada’s eyes. “Pennyroyal Academy is about to fall. There are witches everywhere. If we can’t get out of this tower, it’ll all be over.” She began to press the stones, feeling along the wall for a loose bit of mortar or a hidden trigger. It was as solid as a shield. She glanced around the room, searching the shadows for anything that might help.

Table. Books. Rug. Smoke vents. Torches. Spinning wheel. Straw figures. Think, Evie, think . . .

“Every day I remember the witch your mother helped me kill,” said Falada. “That’s your final trial, you know. Your company has to kill a real witch.” Her eyes shot to Evie, then to Demetra. “Don’t tell anyone I said that! A Princess of the Shield never reveals Academy secrets! Please don’t tell them I told you!”

“We won’t,” said Evie absently.

“Please! Princess Hazelbranch will be so cross with me.”

“We won’t say a word, Falada.”

“Good. Thank you.” She smiled a melancholy smile.

Table. Books. Rug. Smoke vents. Torches . . .

“Do you want to hear about your mother’s heroism?” She didn’t wait for a reply. “It was in the mountains they call the Seven Dwarfs. The range to the east, near Devil’s Garden.” Falada’s voice had calmed as she stared at the floor, remembering. “Lödla, that was the kingdom they wanted us to clear. Not much of a kingdom, really. Just a castle at the end of a mountain path. Do you know snow? They had snow up there.”

Think, Evie, think . . .

“We found her straightaway. She was sitting on the King’s throne. He didn’t mind since he’d done a runner long before she came. She smiled when we came in, I remember that. Like she was welcoming old friends.” Another chilling giggle escaped her. “Then our advance team . . .” She shook her head, unable to comprehend what had gone so wrong.

Could this mortar be scraped away? thought Evie. We’ve got the spoon. It would take ages, but perhaps we could carve enough of a hole . . . to what? To jump?

“They were obliterated. Where our friends had been standing, there were only statues and memories.”

Evie glanced around again. Table. Books. Rug. Smoke vents. Torches. Rats. Spinning wheel . . .

Her eyes snapped back to the rats. They hadn’t been there a moment ago. There were two of them, sleek brown things with pink tails, dining on Falada’s scraps.

“Christa was so calm. So brave. She knew how scared we were, but she wouldn’t let it take over our hearts. She helped us win the day. No . . . she won the day.”

Evie couldn’t take her eyes off the rats. Their whiskers bobbed as they sniffed each other. “Princess,” she said. “Did you say you know how to talk to animals?”

“Of course. Soon, you will, too.”

Evie lowered herself gingerly to the floor. She knelt in front of Falada and looked straight into her eyes. “You can communicate with those rats? And they’ll listen to you?”

“They’re the only ones I’ve had to talk to for years. And Mother, of course.”

“I have an idea about how we can get out of here.”

“It won’t work,” said Falada.

“You haven’t even heard it yet.”

“You want to send the rats down to bring back help. It won’t work. They won’t go near anyone who isn’t a princess. The cooks have made them terrified of everyone else. And besides, my father will kill any princess who tries to enter the gates.”

“Not every princess. There’s one down there right now,” said Evie.

Demetra’s eyes shot open. “Of course! Evie, that’s brilliant!”

Falada started to breathe heavily. Her eyes darted between Evie and Demetra. “Please don’t give me false hope. Getting out of this tower is impossible.”

“Hope is never false,” said Evie. “And all sorts of impossible things are true.”

Falada stared into her eyes. As hope crept in, a look of physical pain came over her. “What would you like me to tell them?”

Evie moved back and sat next to Demetra to give space to Falada and the rats. “Tell them to look for a boy named Basil.” Falada glanced at her in confusion. “It’s a long story, but he’s every bit the princess Demetra and I are, trust me.”

“It’s true. Basil has more courage and heart than even he knows,” added Demetra.

“All right,” said Falada, nodding slowly. “Then what?”

“He should be in bed by now. Tell them to get right up next to his face. I don’t want to do anything more than whisper.”

Now it was Demetra who looked confused. Evie, meanwhile, pulled a thread loose from the battered rug. Then she unclasped her neckband, tied the thread around it, and handed it to Falada. “Tell them to—”

Falada gasped and recoiled from the neckband, which fell to the floor. “How did you do that?”

“My voice, it’s in there,” mouthed Evie, her words coming from the jewelry on the floor. “If the rats can get my voice close enough, I can tell Basil where we are.”

Falada inched forward and picked up the neckband. She inspected it with wonder. Then she turned to the rats, who looked up at her expectantly. “Good evening, sirs,” she said. To Evie and Demetra’s astonishment, they squeaked back to her. “Do you suppose you might do something for me? There’s a princess in the castle called Basil. I would be ever so grateful if you might bring this neckband to him.” She paused, and the rats looked at each other.

Demetra’s face broke into a smile as she watched them chatter back and forth. “So cute!” she whispered.

Finally, one of them squeaked something to Falada. “You will? Oh, thank you!”

“Thank you very much indeed!” said Demetra. The rats looked at her blankly.

“They can’t understand you,” said Falada. “To them, you just sound like a strange animal making strange noises.”

“Oh,” said Demetra, disappointed.

Falada leaned forward and offered the thread to the rats. One of them grabbed it with tiny pink fingers. It put the thread in its mouth and ran across the room to the door, the neckband dragging behind. One of the rats slipped beneath the gap under the door. The other helped push the neckband through, then followed. Falada turned to Evie and Demetra with a proud smile.

“They’re such helpful young gentlemen, aren’t they?”

Demetra didn’t speak and Evie couldn’t, so Falada sat and crossed her legs, her spine straight. Evie grabbed the wall and pulled herself to her feet. Her strength had started to return. She peered up at the smoke vents in the ceiling. The tower walls appeared to be about three feet thick from the inside of the vent to the open air. The small sliver of sky she could see was black and starless.

“The rats will find him. Don’t worry about that,” said Falada. “They know this castle better than the men who built it.”

Evie’s head was once again swirling. She couldn’t tell if it was from the poison, the heat, or if she was still reeling from being locked in the tower.

“Here,” said Falada, handing her the cup. “Drink and rest.”

Evie emptied the cup and laid her head on the floor. Her cheeks felt hot, her head thick with pressure. She stared up at the ceiling for several minutes. Rain tapped against the stone outside the smoke vents. Thunder continued to rumble in the distance.

“I’m not going to let them get away with this,” said Demetra, staring at the class portrait in her hands. Her voice was suddenly as stern as Evie had ever heard it. “They’ve got the whole world twisted round, and I’ve had enough. Your father didn’t do this to you out of cruelty, Falada. He did it out of fear.”

“What?” Falada’s wide eyes reflected the torchlight. “My father isn’t afraid. He’s never been afraid.”

“He is. I’ve seen people do all sorts of mad things because they’re scared of witches. And it isn’t your fault that he let his fear win. It really isn’t. It was wrong of him to put you up here.”

“But he did it for—”

“There is no reason. There’s no excuse for letting fear win.”

Falada blinked. Tears welled in her eyes and streamed down her cheeks, but her stunned expression never changed.

“I’ve had enough. I’m not going to be afraid anymore. They want to come after my mother?” Evie tilted her head to look at her friend. It was dark and her face was in shadow, but she could still see the fire in Demetra’s tear-soaked eyes. “I’ve been piddling about for two years at the Academy, doing enough to get by and nothing more. Well, those days are over. When Basil gets us out of here, I am going to rain fire on those witches.” She looked up and met Falada’s eyes. “And so are you.” Neither Evie nor Falada spoke. “Go on, Evie, it’s time. We’ve got work to do.”

Evie struggled to push herself up. Her head was still throbbing, but the water had helped calm her stomach.

“Ready?” said Demetra.

Evie nodded. She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. It was impossible to know where the rats had gone, whether they’d made it to Basil or not, but she had no choice but to try. Her lips began to move and nothing came out. It was a surreal feeling. Her vocal cords vibrated in her throat—she could feel it—but there was no sound. Come up the tower, Basil. We need you. They’ve locked us up. You’ve got to get us out of here. She said it a few more times, then stopped. Then waited. There was a slight whistle as the wind washed over the smoke vents in the ceiling, but other than that, there was only a close, thick silence in the cell. Evie breathed long, deep breaths. Please hurry, she said. We’re locked in the tower. They waited. And waited. Each random chink or drip that echoed up the spiral stairs outside the door gave them hope, but each was followed by more silence. They waited some more.

“It’s all right,” whispered Falada. “It’s not so bad up here. You can still see the snow in the winter.” Demetra and Evie sat silently, their ears trained on the door. “Mother brings Christmas pudding as well—”

“Shh!” said Demetra. “There’s someone out there!”

Evie listened but couldn’t hear anything. Then, distantly, only as an echo, she heard the soft patter of footsteps. They became more distinct as they continued up the tower. Then they stopped.

Evie held her breath. The tension in the room threatened to choke them all. Basil? Is that you? she said.

“Yes, it’s me!” he hissed from down the staircase, his voice punctuated with huffing and puffing. “Don’t rush me. It’s a bloody long way up there!”

Hurry!

His footsteps started again as he spiraled closer and closer to the top. Falada stood. Her face was a mask of terror.

“Don’t be afraid,” said Demetra softly. “He’s a friend. We really are going to get you out of here, all right?”

“No, please,” said Falada, and her tears began to fall. “Hope is too cruel. Please.”

The footsteps stopped just outside. “Right,” said Basil. “There appears to be a door here.”

“Hurry, Basil!” said Evie. She jumped when she heard herself muffled just outside. Her voice was free while the rest of her was locked up.

“Basil, they’ll put you in here with us if they catch you,” said Demetra. “You’ve got to get the door open.”

“Right,” he said. “Let’s see.” They heard scraping and metallic chinks as he tried to negotiate the locks. “You won’t believe what just happened. These two rats just came into my room and climbed onto my face—”

“Basil!” Evie’s voice echoed down the spiral staircase.

There was a bit more scraping, then the sounds of him trying to force the lock open by jerking on it. “There’s a rather large lock here.”

“You’ve got to break it!” said Demetra.

“With what?”

“I don’t know, but you’ve got to do it quickly!”

“There’s a hearth in my bedchamber,” he said. “It’s such a lovely room. Beautifully appointed. You just ring for some wood and they—”

“Basil!”

“Right, sorry. There are some implements there I could use. The poker would work quite nicely.”

“No!” said Evie.

“Stop talking, Evie!” said Basil. “You’re scaring me half to death.”

Evie scowled and pointed urgently to Demetra. “You can’t go back down!” she said. “There isn’t time!”

“I’ve got no choice. There’s nothing here for me to use. I’ll be right back!” His footsteps began to recede down the staircase.

“Basil! Stop!” But he was gone. And so they began to wait again. Only this time, the tension was almost unbearable. And Falada wept the entire time, whispering about false hope.

“I can’t take it,” said Demetra. “Motivate him, Evie.”

Evie’s lips began to move, and for once she was happy she couldn’t hear what she was saying. She wasn’t being particularly nice to Basil. A few moments later, they heard his distant footsteps, followed by his panicked gasping for air. “Was that entirely necessary?” he said crossly.

“I’m sorry,” said Evie’s voice outside the door, “but this is life or death.”

“Is he going to be all right?” asked Falada as Basil gasped and wheezed.

“Everyone stand back!” he said.

“Stand back?” said Evie. “Basil, you’ve got to do this quietly—”

Crack! A hard, metallic strike echoed down the staircase.

“Basil, be quiet!” said Demetra. Crack! “Basil!” Crack!

“Look, do you want to get out of there or not?”

Evie began to pace. He was beating the fireplace poker against the lock like a drum. Crack! Crack! Crack! The whole kingdom might have been awakened by now.

Finally, there was a thud on the floor. The lock had come free. “Basil?” said Demetra. She went to the door, but it didn’t move.

Clang! She jumped back. Clang!

“Basil, what are you doing?”

“I got the big one!” he shouted.

“Shh!”

There was one more great clang before the iron poker hit the door. Wood splintered and cracked.

“He’s not the most graceful of princesses, is he?” said Falada with annoyance.

“Basil, can you be a bit quieter?” called Evie, but even she couldn’t hear her own voice over the rending of wood. “Basil!”

Finally, he stopped, gasping for breath.

“Ba—”

Thud! He rammed his shoulder into the door. Thud! Thud! Thud! Evie threw her hands up in frustration. Outside, another piece of iron clattered down the staircase.

“The whole bloody Glade will be awake by now,” said Demetra.

Just then, the door burst open. There stood Basil, red-faced and proud. But his smile fell the moment he saw Falada. From his look of horror, it seemed as though he thought Death himself was standing in the tower with Evie and Demetra.

“Oh, uh . . . hello,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to disguise his revulsion.

“This is Princess Falada, the King’s daughter.”

“Hello, Princess,” said Falada with a slight bow of her head.

“Uh, hello yourself, Princess,” Basil returned. Then he handed Evie her neckband. “Your voice. Perhaps you can use it to apologize for those things you said to me.”

“If you haven’t gotten us killed, I will.”

•   •   •

Evie’s nerves were tight. She expected guardsmen to appear at every turn with axes and swords and chains and ropes and a thousand new locks to bar the tower door forever. But so far that had not happened. Nothing had happened except a dizzying whirl down the stone staircase to where the air was cool and still. It seemed Basil’s thunderous rescue might not have echoed all the way down the tower after all.

Around and around they went through the impenetrable dark. Falada had convinced them that they could escape without a torch, and without the possibility of accidental discovery that came with it. So Evie ran her hands along the circular walls to keep her balance. The haze of the poison had mostly cleared, but now she was becoming dizzy from the descent. Basil and Demetra were somewhere behind her.

“Slowly,” said Falada in a hushed tone. “We’re nearly there.”

Evie couldn’t see a thing and didn’t know how Falada could, either. Perhaps it was some princess trick she’d learned at the Academy, or maybe it was the deeply entrenched memory of a childhood spent climbing the tower. Regardless, Evie began to slow as Falada did, and the next thing she knew a door was being cracked in front of her.

“This’ll take us to the kitchens. Unless they’ve rearranged the entire castle.” She chuckle-snorted. Evie could almost feel Basil’s incredulous stare. “Once we’re through, we’ll need to go upstairs. The guest chambers are down the right side of the hall.”

“She’s right,” said Basil, his face red and blotchy from two full sprints up and down the tower. “That’s where my room is. You must come and see this fireplace—”

Evie put her finger to her lips to shush him. Falada eased the door open. Torchlight poured through in a wedge of flickering orange. On the other side was a corridor of gray stone bricks. Sconces lined the walls. There were no other adornments. This was a servants’ hallway, as Falada had said, where kitchen workers and service staff did the castle’s unseen business. Thankfully, it was empty.

They hurried down the corridor. After about fifty feet, it began to slope upward. Crisp night air washed over their flushed cheeks as they emerged into a small room filled with wooden tables and racks of serving utensils. This was some sort of preparatory room, where servants could make last-minute adjustments to the presentation of the food before serving it. And several of the windows were cracked open.

“The air feels like magic,” said Falada, closing her eyes and letting it wash over her. “My skin is alive.”

“It won’t be if they catch us,” whispered Evie.

“Right.” Falada opened her eyes and focused. “There’ll be guards in the hall, but it’s the only way. We’ve got to be quiet as rats.” She scrunched her nose and mouth into a rat face, then turned and disappeared into the next room.

“She’s bonkers,” said Basil.

“She’s brilliant,” said Demetra.

The three of them hurried after Falada. They were now in the dining hall where Evie’s and Demetra’s lunches had been poisoned. The table had been cleared and cleaned, all packed away and tidied. It’s like we were never here, thought Evie. No one was ever meant to find us. With a shiver, she crept up the stairs and followed Falada into the hall. They stayed close to the wall, sneaking past the glimmering suits of armor, until they made it to the grand staircase. Rain rattled against the stained glass window at the landing. Falada turned to the others, pointing to the corridor that branched off to the right, and that’s when her face fell.

“Who goes there?” came a voice.

Before Evie could see who it was, Basil shoved all three of them behind one of the armor displays. Evie’s shoulder slammed into the plinth. She had to bite her lip to keep from shouting.

“Hiya,” said Basil loudly.

“Oh, it’s you,” came the reply. It was a man’s voice, grumbly and stern. “You oughtn’t be about without a candleholder in the night hours, sir.”

“Guards,” whispered Falada. “I think that’s Patric.”

Evie glared at her with wide eyes. Falada smiled back and, thankfully, didn’t speak again.

“Forgive me,” said Basil, his voice rising to cover Falada’s. “I was just looking for the kitchens. As lovely as that mutton was hot, I couldn’t sleep without trying it cold.”

“Can’t say I blame you, sir. Always did like a bit of mutton myself.”

“Well? Come on, then!”

Patric’s voice softened. “Just this way. Don’t tell the King I tried his mutton or he might lock me in the tower.”

Basil chortled a bit too loudly. Falada had her hands pinned over her mouth to keep from laughing. Evie implored her with her eyes to keep quiet.

Basil quickly turned to the girls and said in a whisper, “I’ll get Forbes. Meet us in the trees.” And then he left to join the guard. “Coming!”

Evie, Demetra, and Falada waited a moment longer, then crept out from behind the suit of armor. They hurried down the hallway toward the main entrance. Falada stopped short, motioning for the others to follow her down a side corridor that branched off to the left. Within moments, they emerged from a servants’ entrance into the brisk night air. The instant the rain hit Falada’s face, she fell to her knees.

Evie was desperate to get out of Stromberg before they were spotted, but when she saw Falada, face raised to the sky, she stood frozen. The princess’s body was wracked with sobs, though the rain slapping the stone covered any sound. Evie pushed the hair from her eyes and stood and watched.

“Look at that, Evie,” said Demetra. “That’s what freedom looks like. That’s what I want to do.” She walked over and knelt next to Falada. She put her arms around the princess, and Falada clutched her so tightly it nearly knocked her over. Evie stood in the driving rain and watched as her friend comforted a Princess of the Shield twenty years older than her. Finally, she said something to Falada and helped her to her feet. When the princess spoke next, she was a completely different person than she’d been in the tower.

“The stables are just round that way. In this weather, we’re unlikely to meet any guards, but if we do, let me do the talking.”

They crept through the empty roads that rolled gently across the kingdom until they found the stables. Falada had been right. The guardsmen couldn’t be bothered to patrol in the downpour. She led them into the stables and selected five horses, strapped on their tack as expertly as any stable boy, and led them out the hunting gate, an unmanned exit through the curtain wall that was only used when the King and his party wished to make use of the vast forests surrounding Stromberg.

Once they were outside the walls of the kingdom, they slunk back around toward the main gates. If there were any lookouts atop the wall-walk braving the storm, they wouldn’t have seen Evie, Demetra, and Falada skulking through the mud directly below. When they finally reached the gatehouse, they splashed across the grass to the edge of the forest. There they found a spot that was well concealed with brush where they could still see the entrance. Evie peered out into the night. Lightning flashes lit up the mountaintop, freezing the rain in place. All was quiet except for the storm. There was no sign of Basil or Forbes.

“Are you all right?” said Demetra, putting her hand on Falada’s arm.

“I’ve never been more all right,” she said, smiling at Demetra. “Those things you said up there . . . well, you’ve inspired me in a way I never thought I’d be inspired again.”

“Me?”

“I may never forgive my father for what he did, but you helped me see that it wouldn’t have happened if not for the witches. I very much needed to be reminded of that. I’m not afraid anymore. And now I’m ready to rain fire on the witches, too.” She and Demetra hugged, and then she went to the horses and rechecked their gear. Watching her, it was difficult for Evie to imagine how the mousy girl she had first met in the tower had become the self-assured princess standing before her now. “They can take everything from you,” she said. “They can take your windows. Take your sun. But as long as you have hope, you still have a weapon.” She turned to Evie with a smile. “I was just about to lose mine when you turned up.” She climbed into the saddle of one of the horses, looking every inch a Princess of the Shield. “Right, let’s be off.”

“We’ve got to wait for Basil and Forbes,” said Evie. “But it would be wonderful if you’d be willing to join us on our mission.”

“No, I’m sorry, that’s not possible. The witches are targeting my company. This isn’t the ordinary danger we face as princesses, this is an attempt to destroy us all. They already killed me once. I won’t let that happen to my sisters.”

“What are you going to do?” asked Demetra.

“The same as you. You’re coming with me.”

Demetra looked over at Evie in confusion. “But . . . I’ve got a mission. I can’t just leave.”

“You’ve got to. I don’t mean to sound heartless, but you said yourself you don’t know how old those marks are. I hope it isn’t too late for Christa, but the fact is we’ve no idea what’s happened since the witches crossed out their last face.”

Evie studied her friend’s eyes as they flooded with heartache and doubt. Despite the roiling fear in her stomach, she made a decision. “She’s right. You’ve got to go.”

“But . . . what about the Academy?”

“Basil, Forbes, and I can handle it. We’re nearly there now anyway.”

Lightning flashed across Demetra’s face. Thunder crackled over the valley.

“Demetra,” said Evie, “I never knew my real mother, so you’ve got to listen to me. Go to yours now. Protect her from the witches.”

“Please,” said Falada. “I owe your mother my life. I’d do it myself, but I haven’t been out in the world in quite some time. I need your help.”

Demetra looked from Falada back to Evie, heartbroken at the decision she was being forced to make. “Once she’s safe,” she said, her voice just above a whisper, “I’ll come back. And then the witches will pay.”

Evie forced a smile. She nodded.

“Will you say goodbye to Bas for me?”

“Of course.” The two friends hugged tightly. Then Demetra mounted a black horse. Evie couldn’t deny that she, too, looked strikingly like a Princess of the Shield. Demetra wiped the tears from her eyes as she began to ride off. Then she stopped and looked back at Evie. “We’re going to win this war.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Good luck, Princess,” said Falada to Evie, and then she rode silently after Demetra until they both vanished into the darkness.

May the Fates look after you both.

“Evie!” came an urgent voice. “Demetra!”

Evie turned and peered through the rain. Two figures stood huddled beneath the words Here May One Live Freely.

“Over here!” she hissed, waving an arm. “Basil! Forbes!”

They ran against the rain until they were beneath the cover of the trees.

“Are you all right?” said Forbes. “Basil said they locked you up.”

“Yeah. Fine.”

“Brilliant, we’ve got horses!” said Basil. “Where’s Demetra?”

“She’s gone.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry, Bas—”

“What do you mean she’s gone, Evie? Where?”

“The witches are trying to kill everyone in her mother’s old company. She’s gone to the Blackmarsh to save her.”

“What?” He began to shout. “Dem—”

Evie leapt at him, jamming her hand over his mouth. “Quiet, Basil! You’ll get us all killed!” Above her hand, his wide eyes stared back at her. He looked even more upset than Demetra had been. “Keep quiet, all right?” She slowly took her hand away.

“How could you let her go, Evie?”

“She needs to look after her mother,” she said, her stomach suddenly in knots. “All we’ve got to do is find Rumpelstoatsnout. Her family needs her more than we—”

“You had no right.” He turned away and climbed onto one of the horses.

“I didn’t tell her to go, Bas. We all decided it would be—”

“Yes, well, you’re the only one left to yell at.” He looked over at Forbes, who had already mounted his own horse. “Let’s go.”

Basil began to ride away. Forbes looked down at Evie with a cocked eyebrow. “There you go again, letting family cloud common sense. Your soft heart is going to cost us this mission.”

Evie mounted the last horse and wiped the rain from her face, then followed Basil without uttering a word to Forbes.

They rode slowly through the woods, parallel to the mountain ridge. Once they’d gone far enough to avoid being seen, they came out from the trees and stepped to the edge of the cliff. Beneath the nighttime storm, the valley was an endless black void stretched out before them. Pulses of white lit up the billowing clouds.

“There,” said Evie, pointing at the horizon. “That must be the Dagger. Do you see it?” In the intermittent flashes of lightning, the faint outline of another mountain range appeared at the distant end of the valley. One peak stood sharp and tall above the rest, like a blade. “The King said the Wood of the Night is beneath the Dagger. That’s where we’ve got to go.”

They sat beneath the rain clouds and watched as darts of white light repeatedly stabbed the forest valley. Then, without a word, they began their descent.