Aidan rolled his eyes, frustrated his words alone hadn’t bent Zoya to his will. But to Zoya Kolesova, a male was a male was a male. It didn’t matter if they were dragon or men or giant trolls. If they were male, they simply weren’t worth listening to.

And, honestly, Brannie enjoyed that part of Zoya. Her logic was pure, as was her unwillingness to change it.

“Oy!” Caswyn yelled out. “I found another way—”

The double doors Aidan and Uther had closed off burst open and armed Zealots flooded into the room, one of their eyeless priests leading the way.

When both eyes were missing, Brannie knew she was dealing with not only a slavering sycophant of Chramnesind, but a powerful priest. Apparently Chramnesind really liked his followers to slaver.

The weakened humans that had been trapped in these dungeons for days immediately panicked and moved as quickly as they could behind Branwen and the others.

“Going so soon?” the priest asked. “And we had so many plans for those who follow the Abominations and their whore mother.”

Brannie was already moving on the priest when Aidan grabbed her arm and yanked her back. She had no idea why he’d bothered. He’d never stopped her from killing one of the Zealot priests before.

But then she saw it. Easing into the room from the stairs.

Smoke.

Brannie’s nose twitched and she immediately knew this wasn’t some regular fire. The smoke was tainted with . . . something. She could smell it.

Then, the Zealots in the back of their group began to spasm. Eyes—those who had them—rolled back in the Zealots’ heads, saliva poured from their mouths, weapons dropped to the floor from paralyzed fingers.

“Keita,” Aidan said softly. And it was all she needed to hear.

“Move!” Brannie ordered the others. “Move!”

Those too weak were picked up by Zoya, Uther, and Caswyn. Caswyn led the way to a door in the walls he’d found. He pushed it open and went inside, the rest of them following.

Once Brannie stepped in, she turned to close the door firmly behind her, giving her a brief view of what was happening to the Zealots she was leaving behind.

Whatever poisonous smoke Keita had released into this place, it was not merely killing the Zealots. It was torturing them. Giving them the most violent, painful death any of them could imagine.

That’s how Brannie knew. She knew that Keita had somehow found out that her longtime friend was dead and that these Zealots were responsible.

Shutting the door, Brannie turned and charged up behind the others. She grabbed two of the slowest humans and began to run with them in her arms.

“Move!” she ordered again. “All of you, move!”

* * *

It took a little time, but they eventually found their way back to the door that they’d used to get in.