“What will they do to you?” Cordelia demanded.

“Don’t worry about that. Just … I tried so hard to protect you all these years! That’s why I listened to Mother and kept those secrets from you. I just wanted you three to grow up feeling safe! I never wanted you to be afraid. Not like …” His face twisted in anguish as he glanced around the fading prison cell. “Just get free of Lady Elianora. No matter what it takes!”

“But how?” Cordelia demanded. “Mother didn’t give any of us magic lessons. We don’t know how to—”

“You all have your own powers.” His voice was growing faint, but the desperation in his tone rang through. “Remember Alys’s river stone! Every spell can be broken if you find the right key. You just have to get out—and then run, as fast and as far as you can! Don’t turn back for anything. Just go.”

Thumps sounded in the distance, beyond the wavering stone walls. Panic flashed across his face. His lean brown cheeks hollowed.

“We’re going to rescue you,” Cordelia promised her older brother. “Don’t worry. You won’t be a prisoner for long. We’ll come back for all of you.”

“No! Don’t you dare, Cordeli—ahh!”

White mist billowed through the stone room like a snowstorm …

… And Cordelia plunged awake—truly awake this time—gulping deep, harsh breaths that nearly burst open her chest as the echoes of her older brother’s panicked shout rang in her ears.

Utter blackness surrounded her. Connall was gone.

Stale air tickled against her nose and mouth. There wasn’t nearly enough of it. Something heavy lay on top of her, crushing her chest and legs and pushing down into her face until it nearly smothered her. Itchy fabric brushed against her cheeks and forehead. Something hard and painful pushed into her lower back. Why couldn’t she see?

All she could smell was sweat and grime and …

Cedar!

Cordelia shoved and squirmed, panting with effort. Her chest burned. Her muscles screamed with discomfort. Finally, she managed to wriggle one arm free to reach out through the unrelenting blackness.

She touched wood scant inches from her face.

Now she knew exactly where she was.

Grandmother must have piled Giles, Rosalind, and her into that massive cedar chest and left them there, all packed neatly in place to be delivered to the dukes. That was one of Giles’s knobbly elbows bruising her lower back right now, while Rosalind’s own strong back pressed down against Cordelia’s face … and neither of them had so much as shifted in place no matter how roughly she’d struggled in these last few minutes.

The spell still held both of them fully in its grip … and Cordelia was squashed between them. Trapped.

Or at least, that must be what Grandmother thought.

Cordelia’s upper lip lifted in a wolfish snarl.