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I held the general’s stare, not daring to glance above him as I gathered my specter. “I wouldn’t have fit in,” I said darkly.

Then I struck—a thick, hard tendril aimed at the beam above.

A loud crack drew Holden’s eyes upward, to where a splinter made it look as though the weight of the chandelier had fractured the wood. He’d barely drawn a breath before the beam split—

And the tent collapsed around us.

I launched myself backward, and the soldiers instinctively stumbled back with me, out of the way of the plummeting chandelier. I landed on hard ground beside Finbar, who was gaping at the destruction. My hip smarted but my arms were free, the soldiers having rushed to a roaring Holden.

Because the general’s body was now a mess of open flesh and wax-burns.

I was still gaining my bearings when the shackle-wielding soldier lurched toward me. Finbar’s blade slashed through the back of his ankle, red spraying from the wound. The man howled, collapsing, and I slipped one continuous tendril of my specter under the boots of two more guards. They tripped forward together, banging their heads on the metal edge of the chandelier.

I didn’t wait to see if they got up. As the candle flames began licking against the collapsed tent walls, I scrambled toward Finbar.

“Alissa!” Perla’s panicked voice rang out, and my blood rushed up.

“I’m fine,” Finbar yelled, hoisting himself upright. “Go!”

I clambered through the fallen fabric toward the pit. The night air blasted me and I sucked it down, coughing out the taste of burning silk.

“Perla?” I was blinking the smoke from my eyes when I saw her.

She was in the center of the pit, thrashing against a man in a gold-threaded uniform who had her by the neck. I staggered forward, rearing my specter back for a powerful release, when a larger figure jumped into the pit with them, nightstones crunching under his boots.

In one swift motion, Goren grabbed the soldier’s head and twisted his neck until it cracked.

I felt Perla’s gasp of air in my own lungs as I skidded into the pit, jagged stones scraping my palms.

“Do you have the key?” I said, frantic, not needing to ask if she was all right. She wasn’t, and she wouldn’t be until we reset the band.

Perla shook her head, eyes glistening in the dark. “I was searching when Erik’s soldier—”

“Erik?” Goren demanded.

“Talk while you search,” I ordered, dropping to my hands and knees. “Holden tossed his key into the pit. We need to find it in the next . . .” I looked at Perla in question.

“Three minutes,” she said quietly, and I cursed under my breath.

Nightstones fractured under our boots as we rummaged through the pit. Too many loose stones had crumbled into its center over the years, and now, with all of them glittering under the moonlight, it was impossible to locate the slender key between their jagged edges.

“Those were the king’s soldiers?” Goren asked. He’d already heaved the man’s body out of the pit, and now his gloved hands sifted through the nightstones. “The sword wasn’t at my location, but on my way back to the docks, I noticed battleships moored near the beach—half a dozen, out in the open. So I pulled in here instead. Then I saw the Ansoran uniforms and thought Rheya had attacked, even knowing we were still here.”

I jolted, surprised, because that meant he’d seen Perla being choked by a soldier who he’d assumed was Rheya’s. And still, Goren hadn’t hesitated to kill him.

“Where’s Lye?” he asked now, his axe glinting at his back.

“He didn’t show.” I cut my finger on a particularly sharp stone and swore. “Erik planned the explosion and somehow brought his soldiers onto the beach.” I swallowed hard, hating my next words. “I think their forces caught Lye when he was traveling to the cave.”

Goren’s expression darkened, a solemn silence blanketing the clamor for a moment.

“Perla, have you searched the left side?” I cast a harried look toward her and found her standing rod-still, staring at her pocket watch. “Perla!”

“It’s over,” she murmured. Her oath band whirred like a gnat over our heavy breathing. “We’re in the three-minute window now. We won’t find it in time.” She lifted her face—but rather than the devastation I’d expected, a cool resolve had hardened her features. She directed that fierce look toward Goren and said plainly, “You need to break my hand.”

“What?” I demanded. Even Goren paused his search, alarmed.

“It’s the only way to maneuver the band off my wrist in time,” she said, her eyes never leaving Goren’s. Because, I realized, he would have to take up this task. I could protect her, fight for her . . . but this, I couldn’t bring myself to do.