I grab the bars in the door and shake them, just to loosen some pent-up frustration. It’s not like the damn things will budge. These holding cells were designed to contain Seasons. The walls are stone. The faucets and plumbing fixtures are all fitted with low-flow regulators to control the supply of water. Not a single thing in this cell will burn, and there are no roots capable of burrowing through the thick slabs of rock. I know, because for a brief time when I was a new recruit, I was tasked with guarding these cells. Back then, they were darker, colder, and far nastier than they are now. Which only goes to prove that Lyon’s soft—too weak to be in charge.

A sliver of white soap is the only bright spot in the room. I unbutton the top of my jumpsuit and let it hang around my waist, washing the stink of stasis and the smell of Lyon’s office from my body as best as I can with the trickle of water in the sink. I look haggard, older somehow in its steel surface, and I splash my face, wishing I could scrub away everything that’s happened since I was last here.

The faucet shuts off abruptly, and my spent ration of water swirls down the drain. I lift my head, my wet skin blooming with goose bumps in the damp chill. The heat of the torches at the far end of the corridor doesn’t reach my cell, but I don’t need it. The cold soothes my nerves. It sparks memories of long days spent with Denver and Noelle and speaks to my oldest, most familiar magic—before we were Guards, back when we were Winters.

I keep my jumpsuit half-off, leaving the ends of my wet hair to drip down my shoulders, letting the Winter magic stir after its long hibernation. Ice pops and snaps softly as it freezes over the shells of my ears, like the crackle of a fire in a dimly lit room. I draw in a deep breath, mustering the cold to rise up until it’s fully awake inside me. My breath whitens and ice laces my hands. The effort leaves me nauseated and dizzy.

Sinking onto the lower bunk, I rub the melting frost from my fingertips. A vision of Fleur comes unbidden to my mind, like a smoking car wreck in my rearview mirror I wish I could forget. I envy the way the ground ripped open for her, trembled for her. I’d kill for a fraction of that power right now. With that kind of magic, I could bring this entire place to its knees.

Metal screeches against metal as a slot opens in the cell door. A tray appears, containing a snack-size bottle of water and a paper cup full of vitamins.