I catch the Prince’s gaze, see the spark of desperation and fear in his eyes. “Hiding you, it’s the reason we’re all here.”

My gaze shifts to Adair, who still huddles against the wall, pale and shivering. “What about Adair?”

A muscle twitches along Lincoln’s jawline. “What about Armageddon getting both the Scala and the Scala Heir? With that kind of power, he could control all the five realms. This is bigger than any of us, Myla.”

I nod, gripping my hands behind my back. I feel the weight of being the Scala Heir seep into my bones. This is the pits. Why didn’t I back down when Mom said I shouldn’t ask questions about my father?

Across the room, the Oligarchy gesture to the Scala. “Maxon.” The old man half-opens his eyes. In Latin, the Oligarchy whisper the words for “Imprison them.” The Scala raises his withered hand, a flurry of igni dance around his fingertips. He repeats the words of the Oligarchy, “Imprison them,” and closes his eyes once more.

The igni break free from his hand and fly about the room, encircling everyone except the Oligarchy and Tim. The bolts quickly turn into electric cords that bind our hands and feet. Tim lowers his spear from Cissy’s back; he no longer needs it.

I stare at the igni wrapped about my wrists, feeling their calming effect on my soul. Sensing my power, they reach out to me, little tendrils of thought that seep in through my skin. I want to set them free so badly, it’s like a pain in my chest. Their music and laughter gently echo inside my head, dozens of spirit-children calling me to come out and play. I can’t, little ones. I have to hide.

The Oligarchy’s eyes blaze bright red. “Every Scala develops a special skill with igni beyond the soul column. Our Maxon creates ropes and cages.” Their four mouths coil into satisfied grins. “Don’t bother trying to escape. Nothing can break your bonds.” They turn to Tim. “Go outside to Armageddon. Tell him we await his orders.”

Nodding, Tim creates a portal and disappears.

The Oligarchy inspects our faces. “There’s no need for all of you to suffer for the Senator’s crimes.” Their voices come out syrupy and low. “Help us. We’ll keep you safe from Armageddon.”

“And how will you manage that, exactly?” Mom lets out a sigh that says ‘I can’t believe I’m having this conversation again.’ “You can’t protect yourselves from him.”

The portal reopens. Tim steps through, his chest slashed wide open, a mass of purple organs wriggling inside. “Lord Armageddon says thank you for the offer, but he’s here to kill us all.”

Tim crumbles to the floor, dead. The walls shake as something tries to break through the sands and into our bunker.

Armageddon is coming.