her feet. In the shadows, Cora could just make out each of their shapes as they lay down shivering on the cold metal floors.
“Good night, Roger,” Jenny whispered to the bobcat.
But Cora didn’t go to sleep.
Ever since that first lesson with the dice, she had met with Cassian every few days to continue the telekinesis training secretly, and she’d been practicing on her own after lights-out. Night after night, she had concentrated on the small blue dots, willing the die to move. After three nights, she could make it slide across the floor a full foot. After five nights, she could make it flip over, turning itself from 3 to 1 to 6. After seven nights, she could make it hover a half inch off the floor.
If you can achieve levitation of a medium-sized object for thirty sustained seconds, Cassian had said, you will have a chance of passing whichever test the Gauntlet gives you.
It was still a ways to go, she knew, but the progress was undeniable. The Gauntlet would arrive in just under one rotation, which gave her somewhere between ten and fourteen more days.
But levitation wasn’t the only skill she needed to develop.
She hid the die under her blanket, waiting for the others to fall asleep. Beside her, the fox gnawed a small wooden giraffe from the lodge that Lucky must have stolen for it. She could just barely make out Lucky’s silhouette in the near darkness. He leaned against the wall, blanket balled up for a pillow, arms hugged close against the cold. She guessed he was just as awake as she was.
After a few more minutes, someone started snoring. Jenny gave a soft sigh like she had fallen asleep too. Soon, Shoukry stopped rolling over and was quiet. Cora waited longer, at least another hour, just to be sure. When she opened her eyes, they fell on the blue lightlock.
It was time for a bigger challenge than dice—getting out of her cell.
She examined every detail of the lightlock. The raised circular ring in the center. The slight dent in the bars where it was attached.
Move, she willed.
She was getting light-headed. She licked her dry lips and tried again.
Move.
Something was missing; that click. The amplifier attached to the lightlock was weaker than the one on the training die. Her vision slid around in the darkness, making her feel as if the entire room was rocking like a ship. She gripped the bars on either side of the lock, steadying herself. She visualized cutting through the pain that was building around the edges of her mind. Focusing on the lock, only on the lock, until everything else vanished.
Move!
Her mind pulsed all at once, like two hands had suddenly squeezed it, and for a second, she thought, Yes, that’s it! But the lock still didn’t move. She hissed in frustration.
She concentrated harder, until her mind was screaming so loud that she was shocked the others hadn’t woken. The pressure grew and grew. She felt wetness under her nose and tasted the bite of blood, but she didn’t wipe it away. She was so close. She could feel the catch on the lock. There was a force holding it together. If she could just shut off that pressure . . .
Blood dripped on the floor.
Move, she willed. Move.
And then . . .
“Magnetic.”
Her eyes flew open. Someone had spoken right in her ear. Who? Who had whispered? The fox in the neighboring cell gnawed calmly on its giraffe statue, oblivious. Across the passageway, someone snored softly. The room was just as quiet as it had been.
A coldness crept up her legs.
It had to have been Dane. He was the only one able to leave his cell. And yet his cell door was closed.
She waited, still, for several minutes. At last, the pain in her mind ebbed. She took a deep breath and gripped the bars again. It hadn’t sounded like Dane. It hadn’t sounded like anything really, not a boy nor a girl nor a Kindred, and certainly not Cassian.
But wherever it came from, it made sense. Magnetics. She’d been wrong to try to move a piece of the lock, because there were no moving parts.
Instead, she needed to open it.
She rested her forehead against the bars and felt out the shape of the lock with her mind.
She ignored the taste of blood.
The pain.
Her sense of balance—swaying like on a ship.
Open, she urged, and something in her head clicked.
The blue light turned off. Off! Her breath caught as she tried