Kess followed Rowan in a daze as they retraced their path through the Security Division, where they carefully stepped over Kess’s doorway. None of it seemed right. Oliver had attacked Draven that night? Oliver was kidnapping elderly Fulminancers? What had happened to the careful, measured scholar that Kess knew? What had happened to the brother that insisted on doing things the right way? Who fussed at Kess for squandering her talents?

  Had Oliver been kidnapped at all, or was that a ruse too? Kess had assumed that the marks in his home had been from someone else, but if Oliver had been Fulminant all along, he could have left them himself. But why? She wondered. Why would he bother with any of it, and why did he never tell me he was Fulminant?

  That was to say nothing of the damning file she’d found of her own life. Had Oliver reported all of that, or had the Council been watching her much more closely than she’d realized? Why wouldn’t they come after me if they knew so much about me? Kess couldn’t figure it out. Perhaps running to Rowan and his group had somehow saved her, particularly with no ties to them before that night. Her home was gone, and most of her belongings with it. It was possible that the Witchblades or Councilmen assigned to watch her had simply lost track of her that series of wild nights.

  But even if they’d lost her trail, how had they found it in the first place without Oliver’s help? Kess was certain that everyone involved in that night had been killed, but if a Council member had decided to investigate further and discovered the connection between Oliver and Kess, what would have stopped them from using her brother to gather information on her whereabouts?

  It still didn’t explain why Oliver would betray her. Kess’s mind spun, but she tried to calm herself as the circular room came into view again. There had to be another explanation. Oliver wouldn’t work for the Council without a good reason. She just needed to find that reason.

  Kess stepped up beside Rowan at the center of the room, slightly calmer. She still held their light source, delicate and more controlled now than it had been a few minutes ago, but she couldn’t chase away her sense of dread. It seemed worse now, with what she had learned about Oliver.

  “We’re not far enough underground,” Rowan said, looking around. “There isn’t enough moisture here, even after all the rain. Those are the glyphs Niall mentioned, but if he couldn’t get in, I’m not sure how he expected us to get in.”

  Kess padded over to the large door across the room, the stone carved with swirling glyphs. She flared her light, trying to read them, then shook her head and placed her hand against the door, searching for cracks or other weaknesses. Her Fulminancy flared in her hands suddenly and zipped through the stone, taking on a life of its own. Kess flinched as the door gave way beneath her touch, revealing a set of stairs that descended straight down into the mountain itself.

  Her face went cold, and she fought a shudder as Rowan approached. The doorway whispered, the air drawn inward towards that darkness as it sucked away the light of Kess’s Fulminancy, pulling tiny strands into that dark abyss.

  “Well,” she said, her voice strangely muffled in the darkness. “I guess this is a start.” They both remained there at the top of the staircase, reluctant to descend. Finally, Rowan heaved a sigh and took the lead. Kess followed him, kicking up motes of dust as they descended.

  “Are you sure this is the right way?” she asked. “No one’s been down here in hundreds of years, judging from the dust.”

  “Ancient door with glyphs overhead that only opens to a powerful Fulminancer, deep underground in an already secure location. I’m sure it’ll come out at Stone Market any moment now.” When Kess gave him a look, Rowan huffed a laugh, then answered her more seriously. “Whatever they’re hiding, they’ve had it under wraps for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. Maybe even before the city was founded. This is the right way.”

  As they descended, the smooth passageway gave way to the jagged innards of a cavern. The steps grew slick with moisture, and Kess had to watch her footing lest she plunge into the darkness below. As that whispering came back, indistinct and otherworldly, Kess slowed, falling behind Rowan as her light flared and guttered. She tried to keep it steady, but it blazed in her hands, casting a searing light onto the walls.

  Daughter of Fanas, something purred near her ear. Kess spun, gasping, and below her, Rowan drew his sword, searching for the source of Kess’s panic. Kess pulled her staff from her back, listening and watching, but there was nothing. Looking at Rowan in the dark, she felt a pang of worry.

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  “Kess,” Rowan said, gripping her arm.

  “I—“ Kess searched the tunnel again, but there was nowhere to hide. “I heard a voice,” she whispered. Rowan looked up towards the cavern roof, his sword still drawn. “You should go back up,” she said.

  “You want me to leave you down here in this…crypt,” he said incredulously. “Alone. Why do I feel like that’s the start of every book I’ve read with a bad ending?” When Kess didn’t laugh, Rowan glanced overhead again as thunder rumbled. “Kess, if whatever they’re hiding is dangerous, it’s doubly important that we go together.”

  “I—“ Kess looked into his eyes then and felt a primal panic she didn’t know she was capable of. If she lost him, what would she do? Rowan had pulled her out of that dark place she hadn’t even realized she’d been in. Still, Rowan was more than capable of taking care of himself—even without Fulminancy. And if Kess insisted on going down alone, she knew Rowan wouldn’t be far behind. So she simply nodded, though she felt her Fulminancy churning wildly, her grip on it slippery and unwieldy.

  They continued down the steps together as that terrible voice whispered in her head.

  Why are you so afraid? It drifted to her other shoulder. You’ve used it. You’ve fought with it. Why do you still hesitate? I didn’t give you it to stuff it away and be forgotten like the rest of your ilk, you know.

  Kess shook as she grabbed a torch from the wall, lit it with her unstable Fulminancy, and passed it to Rowan. She tried to snuff out her powers, but they dangled there, snapping and out of control, a few tendrils twining onto her staff. Rowan hesitated as he took the torch, watching her.

  “Do you want me to…?” Kess shook her head. She didn’t know what Rowan’s odd powers would do in her current state. Face pale, Rowan nodded and continued a few steps in front of her with the torch.

  The voice returned, like a thousand whispers all at once. Like thunder and rain and terrible lightning buzzing and crackling together as one harsh chorus. Kess had the distinct sense of it being female, and strangely familiar.

  You use your powers reluctantly, it said as something tried to force her Fulminancy to flare in her hands. The voice carried the distinct feeling of disappointment. Kess gritted her teeth and pulled the invisible reins on that gaping well of power. Why avoid using it?

  Because I’m a monster, Kess thought, remembering the screams and the blood of that night again. Oddly, the voice seemed to hear her thoughts. The idea unsettled Kess even further.

  Is a bear a monster because of its claws and teeth? Can it help that it was simply given the tools to defend itself effectively?

  Kess tried and failed to clear her mind. She thought of the rain and blood of that first night—of the dead councilmen. She thought of the charred remains of the men at Riverside. She thought of Draven, draped over her back.

  More people will die if you don’t embrace those powers, the voice said, insistent. You’ve already lost people you loved because you were too cowardly to take up what’s yours and defend yourself and those close to you. What is the plan now, Kestril of Silverhill? Continue to frighten off your enemies with elaborate ruses, like some kind of play actor?

  Kess continued to march in a determined rhythm down the staircase. Whatever this was, it didn’t seem to be able to physically harm either of them—that, or it simply didn’t want to. Regardless, she kept her mind carefully devoid of thoughts, though the thing seemed to know what she was thinking, anyway.

  I’ve been watching you long enough to know you’re no fool—you know that the Seventh Seat will have enemies no matter where she turns. You might have rejected the Seat, but it hasn’t rejected you.

  Kess slowed on the steps, her heart pounding. Rowan hesitated, and she trotted down to join him, waving aside his look of concern. He’d heard nothing of the conversation, it seemed, which only made Kess feel worse. On top of it all, now she was going mad.

  Finally, they descended the last few steps into another round chamber, carved into the rock itself. Another plain stone door sat in the opposite wall. Kess ignored her pounding headache and stumbled towards the door, eager to leave, but stopped short as she noticed a strange light on the floor.

  “What is that?” Rowan asked, noticing the tiny dot of light nearly drowned out by Kess’s Fulminancy and the torch Rowan still carried. Kess followed the light to the ceiling, which stretched miles above their heads, all the way up to—

  “It’s the sky,” she said, marveling at how far down they were. Thunder rumbled overhead, distant.

  The hair stood up on Kess’s arms. Without thinking, she shoved Rowan away from her as fast as possible. Less than a second later, a crack snapped down from the sky—lightning, pure and simple. Kess felt the heat of the bolt, and her Fulminancy snapped out to play with the lightning as Kess shielded her eyes, her staff clattering to the ground. When she opened them, she scrambled back away from the light towards Rowan.

  Where emptiness had been a second before, a grotesque thing made of clouds stood, its figure short and small like her own, Fulminancy crackling around its body.

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