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“Looks more like a mountain to me,” Visha observed. She gave a tired sigh and glanced at me. I smiled sympathetically.

We’d been marching all day, and I knew everyone had hoped Zaira was about to tell us we could make camp, instead of forcing us up what looked like an infinitely high stone staircase. I studied the stairs; they really did look like a mountain from here. And worse, nothing lay on either side except a deep, dark chasm. The steps were wide enough for a caravan to safely go up them, but there were no railings.

“We’ll go slowly and carefully,” Zaira assured us. “But we must not stop now. Not when we’re so close.”

“You mean because there might be someone waiting up there on the other side?” I asked bluntly.

She scowled. “That is not possible.”

No matter how we pressed her, Zaira always claimed the same thing with the same level of confidence—that no one could possibly make it through the northern passage. That the fail-safe was no danger. Then she’d grumble about how she wished she’d never told us about it in the first place. Kazmyn would look apologetic, and that would be that.

I watched Zaira as she climbed the stone stairs. She moved with a purpose that should have felt reassuring but didn’t. Her dark braids swung between her shoulder blades, threaded with ribbons of gold. She hadn’t cried for Lord Sharma. Or Magda. Or Hawl. But everyone grieved differently, I reminded myself.

“We’re nearly at the top,” she announced excitedly, turning to look back at us. “Look.” She pointed. Above us, the staircase ended at a platform. Something lay in the center—a low, rectangular object of stone on a carved base. Runes spiraled around the edges of the slab. It looked like a dwarven bed made for royalty.

Beyond it stood high gates. My heart sped up. The vault.

The gates were massive and wrought in gold. Their surface depicted four dragons. It was hard to tell when they were all made of gold, but I was pretty sure they were supposed to represent each of the dragon lineages. I frowned as we moved higher up the steps, noticing that the gates weren’t just made of gold, they were covered with something else. A thick layer of ice enveloped the gates in some parts, with a filigree of frost coating others.

“Bloodmaiden,” Rodriguez breathed.

Zaira turned to look down at us all. “We have reached the final threshold,” she declared. “We are very close now.”

Pendragon stood beside me. Her face was numb as she stared at the gates. “What now?”

Sankara had passed Zaira. He approached the gates, looking at them with a curious expression. He reached out a hand—

“Do not touch them!” Zaira cried sharply. “To touch them while locked is death.” Sankara’s hand dropped. “All of you must wait below the first step,” she decreed imperiously. “Those gates were forged by Silvraynes, frost wards were laid into the metal. Should you touch them, the ice will take you to the bone. You will die before you can scream.”

Kazmyn whistled. “Cheerful, Sister.”

She ignored him and looked at Pendragon. “You and the fluffin will come forward. The rest of you must wait on the stairs.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Pendragon didn’t even look at me. She moved up one step, then another. The fluffin gave a little yap. He hesitated, bouncing back and forth on the step just in front of me. I reached down to scratch between his ears. “I guess this is it, Nev. Go do your thing.”

He looked at me, then growled softly in a way I thought was playful. Then he hopped up the final steps and followed Zaira and Pendragon.

“Lie down on the slab while I activate the runes,” Zaira said to Pendragon.

“I don’t like this,” Rodriguez murmured beside me. His face was uneasy.

I shook my head. “Neither do I. But we’re right here.” My hand was already on the hilt of my sword. I glanced at Kazmyn. To my surprise, the boy looked as troubled as Rodriguez.

Zaira was doing something. She’d moved over to a table-like stone panel set into the floor beside the slab that I hadn’t noticed at first. Runes were set into it. She looked back at us. “My blood is needed first,” she explained, like she was instructing a class. “Watch and see.” She pulled out her knife and made a shallow cut in her arm, then smeared the blood onto her other hand and touched it to two of the runes. Immediately the runes flared to life and a wall of pale blue light shot up in a circle, surrounding the gate, the slab, the panel—and Zaira, Neville, and Pendragon.

“What the fuck is going on?” I demanded, immediately moving up to the highest step.

The blue wall of light curved upward in a complete sphere, covering the stone landing totally.

“The barrier is for your safety,” Zaira declared. “It will lower when the vault opens.” Her voice was calm—but that was when I knew for certain that she was lying. Something was off.

I whirled toward Kazmyn. “Did you know? Did you know about this?”

His head jerked. “No, I swear to you. I knew about none of this.”

“Blake.” Visha grabbed my shoulder. “Look.”

Pendragon wasn’t an idiot—so of course she was trying to get up off the slab. She was saying something to Zaira, her green eyes flashing with anger. Zaira ignored her, touching another rune. She couldn’t get off the slab, I realized, because metal clasps had slid out from the sides, snapping shut over her wrists and ankles.