TREMELO’S HANDS WERE BOUND by a strong rope, and he was tethered to a strange man. He was being held prisoner, led up a mountain and farther away from Fairmount—away from his urgent research against Dominance, and away from Fennel. The way her curious mind turned when it came upon a unique smell or an unfamiliar sound would have served him well right now. He hoped she hadn’t gotten sick with worry. Tremelo needed her facilities sharp if she was to track him. Because Nature knew, his were not. He hadn’t realized just how unfit he was until he had to climb up a mountainside with his hands bound, and only a sip of water through a potato sack every hour. His throat was parched, and he was dizzy from exhaustion.

“My good man, at the risk of sounding whiney I must ask: Are we there yet?” Tremelo didn’t know where “there” was; his kidnapper hadn’t given him much to go on.

“The queen forbids you to know anything further,” he’d said, not for the first time. In fact Tremelo had counted twenty-two times at this point.

“Of course. Well, I don’t suppose this bag atop my head could be removed?” Tremelo asked. It was humid with his breath. “While the people in the Gray consider themselves fashion forward, I really don’t think this suits me.”

“Funny,” the man’s gruff voice replied sarcastically.

“What’s funny is your absurd devotion to your queen,” he replied. “What is it, exactly, that she promised you?”

“Freedom from the bond, of course,” the kidnapper said, his voice tight. Tremelo imagined him saying it through gritted teeth, and couldn’t help but groan. People actually believed this drivel.

“Do not disrespect the queen,” the man continued, pulling hard on the rope so that Tremelo nearly fell forward. “She said—”

But something cut through the air, a small object whistling just passed Tremelo’s ear—and the rope was pulled taught before he heard the thud of something heavy hitting the ground.

Tremelo’s blood froze. He stood perfectly still, terrified—wondering who was out there and what had happened. He grabbed ahold of the rope that bound him and felt his way forward until he was crouched to the ground. It led to the waist of his captor’s body. He gave it a nudge. The man didn’t move.

Tremelo pulled the sack off and took in a breath of fresh air for the first time in days. His captor was a thin wire of a man, unconscious—or possibly dead. When he heard footsteps behind him he felt a jolt of electro-current up his spine. The silence stretched so long that he couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’ll have you know I’m adept at a far-west martial art,” he said, shakily. “I am well versed in pressure points and know how to kill a man in a dozen different ways.” It was a bluff, of course.

Whoever was behind him gave a snort. “I hope you’re not as bad a king as you are a liar,” he said. The voice was familiar, gruff but friendly.

Tremelo spun around and saw none other than Eneas. “Thank Nature!” Tremelo said, standing up to shake the man’s hand. “How did you find me?”

“I was tracking a group of Dominae spies up the eastern edge of the woods. I’d followed Miller into the Lowlands, but he was captured and I couldn’t save him.”

Tremelo sensed the hint of anger and regret in his voice. “Have you any word from the kids? Or anyone back in the tunnels? Digby?”

Eneas shook his head. “Things look bad. The tunnels were raided just after you were kidnapped. I know many of the Velyn and RATS escaped.”

Tremelo was devastated to hear the news. All those people—they’d survived Viviana’s Progress Fair just to be hunted like prey.

“Tremelo, the metal Miller spoke of…the Dominae are mining the Velyn mountains to find more of it. They’re uprooting our kin.”

“The metal,” Tremelo repeated. He’d had a theory that it was the same metal used in the Reckoning, stitched into the heart of the metal tiger at the Progress Fair. If he was right, it was black in its raw form and silver when refined. “Do you know what they’ll do with it?”

“My source doesn’t know. But they will tear apart the ground upon which Aldermere stands for more and more of it. They’ll mine all the way to the Underlands for all we know.”

The Underlands, the place of wild, ill repute beyond the kingdom. “Impossible.”

“The soil there is rich in iron ore. There have been rumors that there’s division in the Dominae ranks. Some of them are still too scared to travel there, while Viviana will likely claim that as part of her kingdom too. Yet the Underlands already has a queen….”

Tremelo looked at Eneas curiously. “Another queen?” he asked. “This isn’t another Velyn fairy tale, is it?”

“A fairy tale?” Eneas said, his jaw set and his eyes hard. Tremelo knew immediately he’d said the wrong thing. Eneas turned his back and began to walk up the slope. “There’s still much more for you to learn, my king. A battle awaits,” he called behind him.