Jane awoke before dawn with a pounding headache. It took one look at the mostly melted candle on her nightstand to know that her encounter in the tomb hadn’t been some awful dream. Which meant that far beneath her room, there was a talking door knocker imbued with an ancient animation spell. And that Elena had yet again found a way to make her life infinitely more complicated.Jane groaned and buried her face in her pillow. She’d meant what she said last night. The world was beyond helping. Even if … even if she’d seen firsthand just how dangerous things could become—how much worse it could be. And that person in the hall …She flipped onto her back, and Fleetfoot poked her cheek with a wet nose. Idly stroking the dog’s head, Jane stared up at the ceiling and the pale gray light seeping through the curtains.She didn’t want to admit it, but Mort was right. She’d gone to the tomb just to have Elena deal with the creature in the hallway—to be reassured that she wouldn’t have to do an

Annie rested her cheek on her knee. “He’s ruined everything. And I don’t even know why. Why not just send me home instead?” Her voice had taken on a faraway quality that Jane recognized too well from her time in New York City . Once the memories and the pain and the fear took over, there would be no chance of talking to her.She asked quietly, “You were close to Mcanzie . Did you ever overhear anything about his plans?” A dangerous question, but if anyone might tell her, it would be Annie .But the girl was staring at nothing and didn’t reply.Jane stood. “Good luck.”Annie just shivered, tucking her hands under her arms.She should let Annie freeze to death for what she’d tried to do to her. She should walk out of the dungeons smiling, because for once the right person was locked away.“They encourage the crows to fly past here,” Annie murmured, more to herself than to Jane . “And my headaches are worse every day. Worse and worse, and full of all of those flapping wings.”Jane

“Then she’d owe them. They want a puppet queen, not a true ruler.” Of course —of course they would want something like that. “Are they even from Terrasen?”“No. Davis’s family was, years ago, but he’s spent his whole life in Rifthold. If he claims loyalty to Terrasen, it’s only a half truth.”She ground her teeth. “Self-serving bastards.”Archer shrugged. “That may be true. But they’ve also rescued a good number of would-be victims from the king’s gallows, apparently. The night his friends burst into the house, it was because they’d managed to save one of their informants from being interrogated by the king. They smuggled him out of Rifthold before dawn broke the next day.”Did Benjamin know about this? Given how he’d reacted to killing Cain, she didn’t think torturing and hanging traitors were a part of his duties—or wereeven mentioned to him. Or Vincent, for that matter.But if Benjamin wasn’t in charge of interrogating possible traitors, then who was? Was this person the source

Jane didn’t get a meal, or take a bath, or see a healer for her shoulder. Instead, she hurried to the dungeon, not even looking at the guards that shepassed. Exhaustion ripped at her, but fear kept her moving, almost sprinting down the stairs.They want to use me. They tricked me, Kaltain had said. And in Vincent ’s book of Adarlan’s noble lineages, the Rompier family had been listed as one with a strong Skills al line, supposedly vanished two generations ago.Sometimes I think they brought me here, Kaltain had said. Not to marry Perrington, but for another purpose.Brought Kaltain here, the way Maximus had been brought here. Maximus , of the White Fang Mountains, where powerful shamans had long ruled the tribes.Her mouth went dry as she strode down the dungeon hallway to Kaltain’s cell.She stopped in front, staring through the bars.It was empty.All that was left inside was Jane ’s cloak, discarded in the kicked-up hay.As if Kaltain had struggled against whoever had come to ta

The cut on her arm throbbed, but Jane kept her hand steady as she dipped her finger again into her blood and traced the Troops on the wall, copying the symbols in the book with perfect precision. They formed an archway—a door—and her blood gleamed in the light of the candles she had brought.It had to be perfect—each symbol had to be flawless, or else it wouldn’t work. She kept pressing on the wound to keep it from clotting. Not everyone could harness the marks; no, The Walking Dead said there had to be power in the blood to do it. Maximus had clearly had some trace of power. That must be why the king had rounded up Kaltain and Roland, too. He’d used the keys to suppress Skills , but he must have some way of harnessing the innate power in someone’s blood—and the Troops s must be able to access that power, too.She drew another symbol, nearly finished with the archway.Their power could warp things. It had warped Maximus . But it had also allowed him to summon the ridderak and gain