Well, he’d found Twig.

They were only two cells apart, with Ellie between them. Their reunion had been a grim one.

Nox had no way to tell the passage of time. But he knew it was moving far too quickly. Dawn—and his death—were closing in with the inevitability of the changing tide.

He sat for a long while, listening to Ellie pry at the bars of her cell, then the walls themselves, to no avail. She cursed and shouted for the guards, pretended to choke, anything to induce them to open the door. They didn’t fall for it.

“Can’t you call an army of rats or something to free us?” she asked Twig.

“No rats down here,” he said mournfully. “They keep dungeon cats. And cats are the only creatures that never listen to me.”

“Where’s Lirri?”

“I … I sent her away when the knights captured me.”

Nox winced; he knew the little marten was more important to Twig than anyone else in the world.

“What happened with Gussie?” he asked.

Twig was silent a long time before answering. “It’s not her fault. Don’t be angry at her. They have her little sister, you know. They were going to hurt her if Gussie didn’t turn on us.”

With a sinking stomach, Nox remembered how worried Gussie had been for her sister. She might have been the only person in the world the Falcon girl truly cared for. Of course Garion would use that against her.

But Nox didn’t want to feel sorry for Gussie. He wanted to rage at her. It made him angry that Twig was so ready to forgive her betrayal, no matter her reasons.

“I can’t believe after all we’ve done,” Ellie sighed, “I ended up right back here. You know, I think this is actually the same cell they put me in last time.”

“How did you escape again?” asked Twig.

“Zain. My Goldwing friend. I … don’t think that will work twice. But maybe he knows we’re here! He could—”

“Just give it up,” groaned Nox.

“Someone’s coming,” said Twig.

“Zain?” whispered Ellie.

Nox didn’t even lift his head. It was probably just the guards changing shifts. Or—and this sent a spike of terror through him—time had gone by even faster than he’d feared, and they were coming to lead them away. One last walk. One last dawn.

Three nooses.

He would go out just like his father. Just the way his mother had feared he would. Just the way hundreds of people all his life had told him he would.

Fit for nothing but the noose, that Crow scum.

Nox hung his head between his knees, his heart empty.

Then he heard a soft, “Hello?”

That didn’t sound like a Goldwing or one of the guards.

Nox looked up.

There was a boy his own age standing outside Nox’s cell, staring at him curiously from beneath a dark hood that hid most of his face and his wings.

Nox’s gaze darted down the corridor, where the guard should have been standing. No one was there. Nor was the second guard at his post on the stairs.

They’d all been dismissed.

The boy tilted his head. “So you’re the one my father’s been turning the world over for.”

“Your father … ?” Nox’s eyes widened. “You’re Prince Corion.”

“What’s he doing here?” asked Ellie.

It was the prince, all right. Nox recognized him now—those brown eyes, that golden hair. He couldn’t hide the proudness of his chin beneath that hood. Here was a kid who had spent his entire life looking down at people.

Nox’s feathers bristled. “Come to gloat, have you? Well, here I am!” He spread his hands and wings. “Am I as terrible and frightening as you’d heard?”

“Well, you are a bit shorter,” said the prince.

Nox refolded his wings, scowling. “Tell your father I said he can—”

“Oh, no, I can’t do that. He doesn’t know I’m here. I prefer to keep it that way.”

Well, now, that was interesting.

Nox cocked his head, studying the prince. “So, what? You’re just morbidly curious? Will you be watching when they hang the three of us?”

“Yes. I don’t have much choice about that, I’m afraid.”

“Well, I hope we put on a good show for you.”

The prince stepped closer, and Nox’s fingers twitched. But Corion was still just out of reach. And even if he did manage to grab the boy, what could he do, really? He had no knife to threaten him with, no leverage to use him as a hostage and demand their release. And anyway, Corion had at least six inches on him and twice the wingspan—not to mention who knew how many hours of training under his feathers. He could probably take Nox down all on his own.

Cursed Eagles and their cursed golden children.

“Who are you?” Corion asked.

“Seriously? Check the nearest bounty board—I bet it’s plastered with my face.”

“No, I mean … who are you, that you could drive my father to madness just by existing?”

Nox shrugged. “Unlucky, I guess.”

“Undoubtedly. And here I thought the only boy who could ruffle his feathers was me, every time I lose a sparring match to my cousin Freylon.” He took another step, put one hand on the bars. Now he was within reach, but only if Nox sprinted across the cell faster than Corion could pull back. Not likely.

“You’re just a kid,” said the prince. “What’s so special about you?”

“Well, I’m fireproof, for one thing.” Nox laughed hollowly.

“Nox!” Ellie exclaimed in alarm.

He shrugged. What did it matter now that people knew? What would they do—execute him twice?

“Fireproof …” murmured the prince. Curiously, Corion didn’t laugh or ask for more explanation. He echoed the word as if it confirmed something in his own mind.

“Yeah, I’m a real freak. What about you, Corion of the Eagles? What’s so special about you that we should all bow down before you and kiss your toes and worship your every word?”

Corion frowned. “Nothing, I suppose. I’m not particularly good at anything. Just … lucky, I guess you’d say.”

“Lucky.” Maybe that really was all it came down to—good luck and bad luck. Random chance.

Ellie piped up again. “Your Highness, isn’t there anything you can say to your father to change his mind about us? Like you said, we’re just kids. We’re not traitors or spies. We’re not even all that dangerous.”

Corion gave her a thoughtful look. “I remember you, Sparrow. After the Race of Ascension, you stood before my father and defied him in front of everyone.”

“Going to tell me how stupid I was?” she asked.

“It was pretty stupid. But also … I thought it was the bravest thing I’d ever seen.”

Ellie seemed shocked at that. She gave a small “Oh.”

“Now, my father says you’re undoing the world as we know it.”

Nox scoffed. “C’mon, you believe that?”

“I don’t know what to believe. That’s why I’m down here.” He looked back at Nox. “What is Tirelas?”

Blowing out a breath, Nox sat down again. “Ask Ellie. She does the speeches.”

“I’m asking you.”

“And I’m telling you no.” Nox grinned savagely. “How d’you like that, princey? No no no no no. Listen close. It’s probably the first and last time anyone will ever say it to your face.”

“Have you been there? To Tirelas?”

“We have,” said Ellie. “The islands in the sky. They’re terrifying and magnificent all at once. The city we saw … it could have held ten Thelantises. And, Your Highness, if we don’t return there—”

“I know, I know,” he said. “I’ve heard the rumors. We’ll all lose our wings, they say.”

“Did you hear they’re executing anyone who speaks those rumors?” asked Nox. “Have you watched any of those hangings? Did you bring along a few friends, make a party of it?”

Corion scowled, the first real emotion he’d shown. Nox was glad. He tended to respect people whose skin he couldn’t get under, and he did not want to respect this kid.

“You know your people are dying of wingrot, don’t you?” Ellie, as usual, did not seem to know when to give up. “We know how to save them. Tirelas is the answer!”

“My father says it’s a lie. That those words are treason, and you’re trying to lure people into the sky so the gargols can slaughter them. He says you’re in league with the gargols.”

“Maybe we are,” Nox said sepulchrally. “Maybe if you hang us, our deaths will bring down a horde of gargols seeking vengeance.”

“Now, that would be something to see,” said Corion coolly. Skies! Was the boy made of the same marble as his palace?

“Why are you here?” sighed Nox. “I have, what, two hours left to live? I don’t want to waste them on your raggedy feathers.”

“I’m here because I have questions.”

“Go ask your father. Sounds like he says quite a lot.”

“Are you a Phoenix?”

That stopped Nox cold. He stared at Corion, all snark evaporating from his lips.

Ellie leaped on his words. “Where did you hear that? Did the Hunter tell you?”

Corion winced; the mention of the Hunter seemed to strike a nerve in him. “You don’t look like a Phoenix. Not like I’ve heard them described, anyway. Wings of fire, born out of an inferno, and all that.”

“Yes, well,” Nox said. “I’m fresh out of flames today. Try again tomorrow.”

“So you don’t deny it?”

Nox rolled his eyes. “Does it matter what I do or don’t deny? You’ll hang me just the same.”

“Yes. But then I’ll never know the truth.”

“He might be a Phoenix,” said Ellie. “If you kill us, we’ll never find out. But if you help us …”

Corion looked at her a moment, then back at Nox. “I have to go. The guards only agreed to a short break. But it was … interesting meeting you, Nox. And your friends.” He tipped his head toward Ellie and Twig as if they were at a fancy dinner, not trapped in a cold dungeon hours away from execution. “Sorry about … you know. My father killing you and all.”

“Hey!” Nox shouted, standing and going to the cell doors. Corion had turned and was walking quickly away. “Come back here, you fancy-feathered, pompous creep! You want the truth? The truth is, Ellie and Twig did nothing wrong! Hang me, fine! I always knew I was headed to the gallows anyway. But they don’t deserve this. Hey. Hey!”

Corion swept up the stairs without a backward glance, and Nox slumped to the floor.

This was truly the end.

There was nothing he could do.