Before the chain has finished closing, Iseult’s fingers claw behind her. She grabs at the closest Threads, Hell-Bard and corrupted. They are lightning made of winter, but she holds on and pulls.

Pulls, pulls, pulls, claiming the man’s very will as her own. She doesn’t cleave him—she needs her teeth for that—but she squeezes until there is pain. She squeezes as she can only guess the noose must do.

The Hell-Bard releases her, and she hears his legs collapse and armor clank. She feels his body thud down as his Threads bend in ways they were not meant to bend. And for half a moment, shock ripples across the other Threads in the room.

It is the moment Iseult needs. She mule-kicks, straight back until her bootheel connects with Hell-Bard flesh. Then she jerks upright, too hard to stop. Too quick to evade. Her skull hits the Emperor’s chin where he’d leaned over.

The wintry pain releases, and clarity charges in. She is standing tall now, and the room has devolved into chaos. Two Hell-Bards lurch for her, two lurch for the Emperor. But Iseult recognizes one of the Threads, so she doesn’t resist when Caden grabs her. Nor when she feels steel slice the bindings at her wrist. It is subtle, invisible, and quickly followed by a fake attempt to grab her biceps and control her.

Darkness veils her sight, cloth dulls her hearing. But she has never needed those senses. Moon Mother gave her the ability to see Threads, and she has spent years honing that awareness.

She controls this room. She controls these souls.

A woman lurches in, Threads burning with focused violence, and Iseult ducks. A blade whistles over her head, then Iseult is upright again with her arms outstretched.

She has only cleaved a man once, but it was second nature then and it is second nature now. Her fingers close on the Threads, slippery and frozen like the first Hell-Bard’s.

Then she brings them to her teeth and bites.

The strands of Aether snap. The soul that bound this woman as a Hell-Bard finishes the cleaving it had begun so many years ago. And the woman’s shrieks rip loose, tainted by oil and power. A Stonewitch, Iseult realizes as Earthwitch-green power rattles the marble pillars and crumbles the table.

She is cleaving. Her magic is exploding. In moments, the room will collapse. Iseult releases the Stonewitch, but before she can turn on another Hell-Bard, Caden is beside her again. He hauls her toward the exit, and Iseult doesn’t resist. Safi is no longer in the room. Her broken Threads are somewhere outside, and Henrick is with her.

Iseult will kill him.