Barthol put his hands on my shoulders, shaking me with excitement. “I can’t believe it’s you! I’ve been out of my mind with worry. I was going to try to break you out of the mines.”
“That would have been stupid. How did you know I’d be here? What’s going on with the city? Where is everyone?” I couldn’t quite believe I was seeing my brother, but I was certain I was smiling as broadly as he was.
Barthol looked around a little nervously. “Everyone knows you got a marked lot. They say the ‘traitor-assassin’ will fight in the Winnowing—” He cleared his throat. “That’s what everyone calls you now.”
“Oh, I know. But I’ve stopped caring what they think. Because I plan to kill Galin as soon as I can,” I added. “I will be the North Star, just like Mom said.”
He grabbed my arm. “You can’t kill him, Ali. He’s dangerous.”
“So am I.” I shook my head and, feeling the warden’s eyes on me, quickly changed the subject. “What’s going on in the city? Why is no one out and about?”
Barthol’s smile faded, his expression becoming solemn. “Mushroom blight, and now a plague. People are dying left and right.”
I felt my stomach drop. A plague was what had killed my parents. In the Shadow Caverns plagues were lethal, traveling effortlessly through the dank cave air. And with no food? We had to break free of the caverns at all costs.
I shook my head. “You shouldn’t have come to see me.”
Barthol’s eyes glistened with tears. “Ali, I had to. You’re my only family. You’re going to fight in a Winnowing, this might be the last time I see you.”
I realized I couldn’t fault him, as I knew with certainty I would have done the same.
“I’ll be fine,” I said squeezing one of his massive shoulders. “I’ve trained for years to fight in this sort of thing—”
“Keep moving!” the warden cut in.
“Ali,” Barthol said hurriedly. “The Winnowing—promise me you’ll be careful, right? Try to stay out of the fray.”
“Of course I will.” Not a chance. I sensed the warden approaching. “Look, I have to go—”
Barthol had already wrapped me in another hug. I could smell his cave bear coat, but he felt too thin underneath it.
He released me, and the warden grabbed me from behind. “Get in line, now!” His voice was like a gunshot.
Snarling, I moved along to join the other prisoners.
“Ali, wait!” shouted Barthol, running after me. “Take this.” He pressed something into my hands. “You’ll love it, I promise. I have complete faith in you.”
Only after I’d caught up with the prisoners did I dare open my fingers. I grinned as I recognized the plastic and snarl of white wires. I was holding an antique MP3 player just like the one Galin had given me in the realm of the Vanir. My heart twisted at the memory. It had felt like we were a team, like we were working together. Maybe when he got his soul back, he’d changed.
I slipped the headphones on and pressed play. The most glorious music filled my ears, and a gasp escaped me. The melody was simple but incredibly transfixing, with a childlike purity that just made me want to smile.
Bopping my head, I hummed along to the tune. Whoever had decided to write a song about baby sharks was an absolute genius.
Chapter 8
Galin
For the hundredth time, I paced the length of my room, from the door to the desk and back again. It was late. I should be asleep, but instead I racked my brain, trying to think of a solution. I wanted to leave, to get to Ali. I had to know that she was okay, well fed. The idea of her starving made me feel insane, like I wanted to burn down the entire Citadel. A fiery rage was growing in me.
I needed to hear her voice again.
After that, the way forward was obvious. I would find her and take her on the run. I would steal a moth and fly us to the bottom of the Well of Wyrd. Then, we would make our way to another realm. Someplace they’d never find us.
The only thing holding me back was the helm. It pressed low on my brow, heavy and metallic. Its very presence felt suffocating.
Still, every spell had a counter spell. There had to be a way to remove it.
I went to my desk and flipped through my grimoires. I found hexes that would freeze