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“Pendragon!” I hit the barrier with both hands—it jerked with force. Agony exploded through my palms and up my arms, and my body jolted backward, nearly flying over the side of the steps. The only reason it didn’t was thanks to Sankara. He grabbed me in midair, yanking me down. We both hit the steps hard. I was on my feet in an instant, ignoring the pain. Inside the barrier, Pendragon’s body had gone limp and her eyes had closed.

“What the fuck is this, Zaira?” Visha shouted.

The Stone Keeper finally turned. “It must be done. Do not touch the barrier again.”

“Open it!” I roared. “Or I swear I will tear you apart.”

“Do you not understand? If you touch it, you will only kill her faster.” She turned her back.

I looked at Pendragon in horror. Her lips were blue. Frost crept across the slab, white crystals spreading over her sleeves, tracing the outline of her jaw. I saw her breath lift in a pale cloud into the air.

Beyond the slab, the gates had begun to change. The thick ice coating the bars was slowly melting. Drops of water dripped down the carved dragons and onto the stone floor.

Rodriguez stood beside me. “She’s bringing down the ward using Medra’s life-force.”

A whining sound came from in front of us. Neville sat at the base of the barrier looking worried. He lifted his paws, placing them against the barrier and started scrabbling helplessly against it, as if trying to dig his way out to us.

“It’s all right, Nev,” I whispered, terrified he was going to get hurt. But the barrier didn’t seem to harm him from the inside.

And then—the blue light crackled. I froze. So did Rodriguez.

The fluffin let out a sharp, happier yelp—which Zaira continued to ignore—and scratched harder, his ears flattened back, tail puffed out. Neville was going for it, trying to disrupt the force field. We were doing this.

“Shit,” I whispered, as a tiny seam began to appear—hardly thicker than a finger.

“Bloodmaiden, he’s really doing something,” Rodriguez whispered with excitement. “Don’t stop, little fellow.”

I dropped to my knees beside the barrier. “Neville! Good boy. Keep going. Keep fucking going.”

The fluffin scratched faster, his little body practically vibrating with effort, and the seam widened a fraction more.

I watched Zaira. She still had her back to us, bent over the rune-stones. The frost on the gates was continuing to melt. Pendragon’s hands were blue now. Her breath seemed thinner.

Impatient, I shoved my fingers toward the crack.

Kazmyn grabbed my wrist. “Wait.”

I rounded on him with a snarl on my lips. He was holding out a dwarven knife.

“We need to be careful,” he whispered. “Here. Take this.”

Right. Smart bastard. He had another blade already out. Together, we both jammed the knives into the crack as Neville backed away, prancing, tongue lolling as if he were as excited as we were. The blue light sizzled and sputtered as we tugged. But the shield was strong; it was like trying to pry rocks apart with kitchen knives.

Sankara took Kazmyn’s knife from him. “Pull,” he instructed.

I planted my boots on the stone and threw all of my strength into it. Slowly, the seam of light stretched like torn cloth. Around the crack, the barrier rippled. But Zaira still hadn’t noticed.

“I can fit,” Kazmyn said. He was already crouched down by the opening.

“Careful,” Rodriguez cautioned. “If it snaps shut …”

“No.” Visha had caught Kazmyn by the shoulder and pulled him back. “I’m smaller. I’m doing it.” She glanced at me, and I understood. Before Kazmyn could argue again, she’d dropped low and turned sideways.

Sankara and I hauled, pulling the barrier to the sides as best we could. Visha began to slide through. For one awful second, her hip brushed the edge of the blue light. Instantly, cloth dissolved with a hiss and the flesh beneath bloomed in a raw, angry burn. My stomach lurched as the smell of burned flesh hit me. Visha’s face went white, but she didn’t scream or slow down. She finished sliding through, then stood up, dagger in her hand. She looked back at us just once, her eyes going to Kazmyn with something like sympathy. I glanced at Zaira’s half brother. “You might want to look away.”

His face was tight, but his gaze didn’t waver. “No.”

“Zaira!”