“Quickly,” called Asan.

Someone brushed my hand and I glanced sideways.

“Are you okay?” muttered Rhyanon.

I nodded. “You?”

“Worried. I think…” Her voice faded. “Whatever you do, don’t separate from the group.”

“Got it.”

“Eater, I hope I’m wrong.” She quickened her pace. “Be careful.”

“You too,” I said, as loud as I dared.

Then she was gone. The other cabs had drawn to a halt, and Sisters were climbing the narrow footpath up Geise’s Hill. The fortress at its summit formed a dark rectangle against the star-specked sky. Geise’s Crown. I didn’t know much about the place, apart from the fact that the Order had used it as a rest stop in the days before Tivaria grew prosperous. The hillside rolled with knee-high grass, but from the Crown we would have a clear view of the landscape for miles around.

Asan reached the perimeter wall and stopped beside the rusted old gate. She laid her hand on the bars. A pause, then the lock clicked and the gate swung inwards with a metallic groan.

“Keep moving.” She gestured for the women behind her to file inside. “I want everybody on their guard. We aren’t safe yet.”

I was fairly sure that no one needed to be told, but then I saw Rhyanon hanging back. She allowed other Sisters to pass her, unobtrusively, but in such a way that she would be one of the last through the gate. A stab of anxiety twisted in my stomach. She was watching Morwin as the scowling Councilwoman tramped up the hill toward Asan.

Don’t do anything stupid, I thought.

Asan’s eyes glided over me as I reached the gate, cold and focussed and absolutely unafraid. Standing there, she looked like a painting of a hero from the Order’s past, like Reverend Auvas holding the city walls during the Ash Disciples’ rebellion. The effect was reassuring, but it was probably only a front for our benefit.

The perimeter wall of the Crown stood twenty feet tall and two feet thick, and dead vines clung to the cold stones. Beyond, a narrow stretch of brambles and dry soil ringed the fortress itself. The building had the look of a slab of granite that had been torn out of the earth and moulded roughly rectangular by giant hands. Centuries of rain had worn the stone walls smooth, and the windows gaped like small dark mouths. Four arched bridges ran from the roof to the parapets of the perimeter wall.

“Stop dawdling, Hayder,” snapped Asan.

I glanced back to see Rhyanon reluctantly passing through the gate, followed by Morwin and then Asan herself. The Commander closed and locked the gate behind her.

“Right,” she said, clasping her hands together. “We’ve made good time so far, but remain vigilant. I want a watch on the outer wall, eight women on each side. Look out for scorpions and snakes; I don’t know what might be living here these days. Domonis, Lien, you’re in charge of coordinating this.”