My gut tightened as I looked down the hall where rows upon rows of wiry ice and iron cages held more groups, groans seeping from their cells. Tiny sparkles of light fell from their chests, drifting into the sky like gold paint being washed away in water—something I’d never seen before.

“No…No, don’t give up!” I tried to yell.

A gnome reached through a pair of bars and poked a woman with a long branch of ice. He pinned one of her pant legs as she tried to scramble back.

“Stop it!” I shouted, but the gnome laughed and banged his fist against his red breastplate as though he couldn’t hear me. “Stop!” I shouted again, and this time, it echoed through the pit.

The gnome paused. He looked over his shoulder with the most peculiar face, searching the space where I stood.

Blinding light burned my eyes when I flung myself into a sitting position.

“Helen!” Kaley climbed onto my bed as the room came into focus. I covered my eyes, wincing at the sea of white flooding into the enormous room from the windows. I blinked until I could make out my sister’s face before me. Zane and Lucas stood before a long line of beds with pale green linens.

At the end of the room, Eliot hovered by a large, arched entryway fashioned of braided branches, talking quietly with an Evergreen Host soldier. They both stilled when the Queen of the Pines came in wearing a dress made entirely of clamouring silver bells.

Above the branch entryway, a wooden sign was pegged to the wall:

Rooms of Healing and Butter

“Butter…?” My throat was too dry for the word to make any sound as it escaped my lips.

I took in a deep breath. And then I cried like a baby.

My sobs weren’t quiet; I was sure even the queen heard me. But all the brightness of the room couldn’t wash away the vision of what I’d seen.

Zane felt his way over to the bed and dragged me against him. “What did you dream about? You were shouting in your sleep!” he whispered against my ear.

“I saw them—the believers. The ones who disappeared,” I croaked.

“Ragnashuck.” He brushed a hand up and down my back, and I noticed the queen watching us from across the room. She began heading our way.

“They’re in the Dungeon of Souls. That’s where Nightflesh is holding them,” I blurted before the queen was close enough to hear, and Zane stilled.

“Frostbite,” Lucas swore. “Isn’t that where the witch would bring—”

“Yes,” Zane answered bitterly. “It’s a trap, Helen. Nightflesh wants you to try and save them.”

“Maybe I should!”

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” Lucas shook a finger. “That’s a scotchy idea, Trite.”