The acrid smell of bile drifts through the cell. Kai sucks in a shuddering breath between heaves, shaking with the effort. I scrub my face and swear quietly into my hand.

“Guard!” I shout. I rattle the cell door as Kai starts heaving again. The duty guard glares through the bars.

“What do you want, Lausks?” I know him. He was an Autumn from Vermont. Denver and I knocked him around once when he stepped out of line. Figures that Lyon would restaff the Guard with a bunch of traitorous wussies.

“We need water in here.”

“Sorry, Captain,” he says through a smug smile. “I can’t hear you over all the puking in there.”

My hand flies between the bars in the cell door and clamps around his ear, jerking it toward me until his head slams into the iron frame. A wave of Winter magic crackles through my fingers, cold enough to freeze his skin. “Unless you want to be stuck sweeping up this girl’s ashes, I suggest you bring her some water and vitamins.” I release him with a shove, holding his stare.

As soon as his back is turned, my hands begin to shake. I hold the wall, fighting back a wave of dizziness and resisting the urge to vomit.

The holding cell might be an insurmountable obstacle, but security clearly isn’t. All I need to do is conserve my strength. I only need to summon enough power to overtake a single Guard. If I’m smart and don’t waste any more energy, there’s a chance I can get myself out of here after all.

A thin blanket flies through the slot and lands on the earthen floor, followed by a flimsy excuse for a pillow, a clean jumpsuit, and an extra towel. A tray appears with a second bottle of water and a paper cup of Kai’s supplements. I snatch it from the Guard’s hands.

The fire-retardant blanket is coarse and thin, but it’s warm. Kai sags against the side of the toilet, and I wrap the blanket around her shoulders. When she doesn’t so much as stir, I unscrew the cap of her water bottle and drop her vitamins inside. They dissolve up from the bottom in a stream of angry, foaming bubbles.

“Drink this.” I hold the bottle to her lips, ignoring the smell of sweat and sick that clings to her. She takes a few small sips, watching me through slitted eyelids as if she’s not entirely sure she trusts me. She’s quick, this one. Sharp. That must be why Lyon chose to stick her in here with me. Probably to spy on me. Or maybe to sway my decision.