Back in the pocket with the ancient, living books, Kaley had read a thing or three of value: The Golden Rule. The Narrow Gate. The Tree and its Fruit. But never had she read an instruction telling her what to do if someone held tight to a thing which forbade them from getting well. On those late eves that Kaley had crept down the hall and spied on her beloved sister in their aunt’s dwelling, she had found Helen reading, humming, and drinking steaming beverages, but not sleeping.

This was why Kaley uttered the words to Zane Cohen as they walked along, arm in arm, “We should discuss what we’re going to do about Helen once we get out of here.”

“Yes. I suppose we should,” the Patrolman replied.

The spark in Kaley’s chest agreed.

THE FOURTEENTH

THE FOURTEENTH

The walk up the spiral stairs to my room left me dizzy. I was asleep as soon as I fell on the bed. I cried in my sleep.

I dodged feastbeggars while I searched for the Patrols. When I found them, Mirkra was slumped at the back of his cage, and they’d cut Timblewon’s beautiful fuchsia hair down to stubs. I shouted at a gnome for approaching them with a poker stick. Like before, the gnome paused with a confused look. I waited until he turned, and I punched at his soggy, gray nose, even though I knew it would affect nothing.

I was so startled when my fist collided with something hard, that I jolted awake.

“I’m just going to take it,” Lucas was saying. “I’m going to jump off the dining table in plain sight, grab the crown, and I’m going to run until they tire of chasing me—” His words hitched when I gasped and sat up.

Kaley dropped the handful of nuts she’d been holding for whatever game the three of them were playing, and she came to my bedside. “This is unreal, Helen. You can’t go on like this,” she said.

My tired eyes slid closed, ears ringing with the calls of the Patrol.

“We need to get back to Porethius,” Zane said, standing and tossing his game pieces onto the stump.

We were back in the sunlit healing rooms. The scent of peppermint saturated the air—some variation of mint pie. I tried to decide if I could eat, or if the thought of food made my stomach turn.

“So let me snatch the crown and we’ll run for it, like I said.” Lucas scooped up all the nuts and dragged them toward himself as if that somehow meant he won the game.

“I told you I would get it. And it’s about frostbit time you all told me why you want the Crown of Pines in the first place.” Eliot’s voice cut through the conversation and Lucas’s head lifted in surprise. Apparently, no one had heard Eliot come in.