“What about your books and scrolls?” Elof asked Lemak. “Where do you store your incantations and spell books?”

“The girjastu holds all the books,” Lemak explained in his sniveling way. “It’s on the east wing of this floor, past the armory.”

Sunniva was waiting in the corridor with a torch, keeping a lookout of sorts, though it seemed deserted down here. We couldn’t be too cautious with radical Älvolk and killer spiders lurking about.

Dagny went out to join her. “It’s just straight down that way.” She looked back at me. “It’ll be easy enough to find. We don’t need him.”

“Nobody does.” I turned and started toward the door.

With my back to the häxdoktor, I heard Elof grunt and a loud clatter. I whirled around to see Lemak gripping the needle in his non-broken hand, and Elof breaking a beaker over his head.

Lemak snarled and turned his rage toward Elof. I grabbed him to stop him, and he turned on me with the monster needle. I caught his arm, and without too much effort, I snapped his forearm with a loud crack.

He screamed in agony, and I kept bending his arm back until the needle tore into his throat. His eyes widened, and he fell silent—aside from a raspy breath—as the metal cut through his jugular and windpipe.

When I felt his blood hot and sticky on my hand, I released him. Lemak immediately fell to the floor, his blood pouring out from him as he stared vacantly at the ceiling. The blood pooled quickly and I jumped back to keep it from getting on my feet.

“Ulla.” Dagny put her hand on my arm. “We need to go.”

Elof nodded and pulled his gaze away from Lemak’s death rattle to look up at me. “You did what you had to do. You saved our lives.”

“I know,” I said, but my voice sounded empty. I wiped my hands off on my jeans, and I followed Dagny and Sunniva as they walked down the long, narrow corridor.

I tried not to think about what I had done or what it meant. The belief that Lemak deserved it, that he had given me no choice, was a cold comfort, and we had to keep moving.

Dagny paused to look in the armory, long enough to let out an impressed whistle, but I stayed on task. We could check out the weapons once we had the monsters contained.

The girjastu was a long room with low ceilings and dusty shelves. We didn’t have enough torches for everybody, so I stayed close to Sunniva, hurriedly pulling books off the shelf and flipping through them.

Suddenly, Sunniva froze and cocked her head. “What was that?”

“It’s just Dagny and Elof a row over,” I said.

“No, not that.” She frowned. “This is something else. . . .”