Zane crawled onto the bed and padded his hand along the comforter until he bumped my leg. “Helen?”

I settled my stare on him. His eyes had grown brighter overnight.

“We need to get out of the Green Kingdom.” My voice cracked when I finally spoke.

“Agreed. I’m not sure why we’re still bloody here,” Zane said.

“We’re getting a crown,” Eliot piped up from the back of the room, arms crossed. “And we’ll be executed as deserters if they catch us trying to leave, in case you frostbitten forgot.”

“We’ll get the crown another day,” Zane said.

My fingers laced together; I looked down at my chipped nails. “Nightflesh has the Patrols. That’s why they never made it home to the factory after they went looking for us," I told him. “I saw them in the Dungeon of Souls.”

It was madness to try and leave.

It was madness to stay.

Lucas went on a hunt for the Patrol staffs through Timber Castle, asking nonchalant questions of the staff. In the meantime, Eliot took me for a walk outside to scout out an escape.

Zane and Kaley walked arm-in-arm behind us. Every time I glanced back, they were deep in conversation. Zane’s pointed hood was up, shadowing his face and making it impossible to read his lips.

“If we go through that forest,” Eliot nodded toward a grove of thick-trunked trees, “we’ll end up in the village where I found you and Cohen. From there it’s a sprint to the border. If Leutenski can come up with our Patrol staffs, we might make it.” I leaned into his grip on my arm to keep steady, still lightheaded after my terrible sleep. But I nodded to show I’d heard.

They turned me.

They turned me.

They turned me.

It was like a gong going off in my head. No matter how much ground Eliot and I gained, I couldn’t stop hearing him say those words.

“Eliot,” I said, and his head tilted toward me. “Where is Asteroth?”

He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“None?”

“None, Helen. He scuttled off four quarters ago and hasn’t been heard from since.”

“Have you seen anyone else from that side?”

Snow trickled down from the sky, landing on our coats as he took his time answering. When he did, his voice was low like he didn’t want the others to hear. “I was…cast out of their company. They don’t trust me,” he said.

They…

I glanced at him, but he was looking straight ahead. His blue eyes seemed off; like they were fighting to stay lit, fighting not to melt to turquoise. My senses prickled at the sight.

They turned me.