Ted’s hand slipped. He sagged to the ground. Blood gushed out of his mouth.

Nick stepped forward. The twin thorn vines shot out of his body and punched Hugh in the chest, sweeping him off his feet. The preceptor of the Order of Iron Dogs flew and crashed to the floor outside the room. Nick ripped a green shield off the wall, revealing a switch and punching it. A metal portcullis slid in place, separating Hugh from the rest of us.

They had a portcullis! I almost choked. Okay, so I didn’t know it was there; the other knights may not have known either. But Ted knew. He could’ve locked Hugh out at any time.

Hugh rolled to his feet and screamed, a howl of pure fury.

Uath ran down the stairs. “We have to go.”

Hugh stabbed at the portcullis with his hand. “I want this broken.”

“There’s no time,” she said.

He spun to her, his face contorted.

Uath shrank back. “A National Guard platoon is incoming. They’re less than a mile out.”

“How many?”

“Two squads. Eighteen soldiers and a mage unit. We can wipe them out but it will take too much time. By the time we’re done, half of the city will be on us.”

Hugh looked at the ceiling.

“Sir,” Uath said. “Should I take up a defensive position?”

Hugh’s anger imploded. His face slid into icy calm. “No. Move our people out.”

Uath ran back up the stairs.

Hugh pointed through the bars at Nick. “Well played. You and I aren’t done.” He turned to me. “At noon, I’ll be coming for you.”

He turned and walked up the stairs.

I thrust my hand between the bars and unlocked the cage.

Nick walked over to Ted, crouched, and touched his neck. His voice shook with suppressed rage.

“Well, here we are. You’re dead, you fucking dumb bastard. Two years of my life undercover. Do you have any idea what sort of shit I’ve seen? Do you know the things I had to do? The things they did to me? Two years of gathering information, waiting for a chance to make a difference. And you burned me. You threw it all away so you could have a witness to your holy war.” Nick rose and kicked Ted in the head. “And now you’re dead, you fucker, and I have to live with all of it.”

I swung the door open and ran to Ascanio. He was breathing. The gashes were still open, but his chest was no longer a misshapen mess. I turned to Mauro and felt for a pulse. Please. Please, please, please . . .