I jolted awake as someone slammed a fist on my door. “Hurry up, Pris.” Vicer.

I groaned, wanting nothing more than to roll back over. Hauling

myself out of bed, I dressed, splashed water on my face, and met Tibris and Vicer downstairs.

The sun had barely risen, and Tibris looked as bleary-eyed as I felt.

Vicer seemed to have been up for hours. “Where are we going?” I asked.

“You’ll see.”

I scowled. Vicer ignored me and turned to the door, stepping out into the cool air. I lifted Galon’s cloak off the hook by the door and followed him. If Tibris was tired of Vicer’s cryptic behavior, I couldn’t tell. His expression was placid as we strolled through the slums, back toward the potions shop we’d visited yesterday.

I was more prepared for the tunnel this time—not that it helped. Still, I refused to let Vicer see how much I struggled, so I kept my head down, counting off the approximate foot-spans once we passed the nook where we’d met Ivene.

Vicer continued down to a four-way intersection of tunnels and turned right. It felt like several years later when the low hum of voices reached my ears.

A lot of voices.

Vicer didn’t seem concerned. He just continued his slow, methodical crawl, ducked his head, and disappeared around a corner.

I followed and found him standing in a huge cavern, holding out his hand for me.

Grabbing it, I stepped past him so Tibris could join us. The noise was even louder here, but it still had a hushed quality to it.

The space was larger than it should be. The part of me that continually worried about such things wondered how the roof didn’t fall in on the hundreds of people who were wandering from stall to stall.

The walls were dirt, but every few foot-spans, a large blue-green crystal had been sunk into the wall, illuminating the merchants’ faces and casting everything in a blue glow.

Tibris reached me, and we both stared, taking in the tiny tables straining beneath weapons, scrolls, books, charms, precious stones, potions… My head spun. The light was dim enough that it took me moment to realize some of the cave walls had been cut out—large swaths of cloth hanging in front of them to ensure privacy. Whatever happened behind those curtains, the merchants wanted kept private.

I glanced at Vicer, who was surveying the market with a satisfied gleam in his eye.

“Explain,” I said. “Please.”

Vicer shrugged one shoulder. “This is how most of the hybrids in this city stay alive until they’re old enough to pass for twenty-five winters.” He led us to the closest table, which held a variety of charms and stones. “Depending on the kind of power a hybrid has, how strong it is, if it’s passive or active, these can sometimes help keep them hidden—even from an assessor.”

The merchant, an older man with a black-and-white speckled beard, nodded at Vicer, then turned as a girl who was likely no more than sixteen winters approached.

I’d expected Vicer to continue walking down the aisle between the stalls, but instead, he jerked his head, leading me to one of the nooks hidden by a dull gray sheet.

“Charms are better for small changes, like your eyes. I’ll show you where to find the necklace you need after this. But your hair can easily be dyed.”

A woman poked her head out of the smaller cave, grinning up at Vicer.

Her skin was a creamy white, so light I imagined she must constantly have to hide from the sun, yet there wasn’t a single freckle to be seen. She looked my age, but there was something about her eyes that told me she was much older.

“This is Chava,” Vicer said.

“I’m Setella,” I introduced myself with my new name.

Vicer nodded approvingly at me. “We’ll come back for you.”

He disappeared, leaving me with Chava, who waved at me to take a seat on one of the overturned crates in her tiny space. I wasn’t surprised to see several huge bowls of water—one of them clearly recently used. But Chava waved her hand over it, and the water cleared, clean once more.

“That’s a helpful power.” “Indeed.”

I sat in front of the mirror, and Chava got started on my hair. When I attempted conversation, she replied with one-word answers until I gave up and got lost in my own thoughts.

Eventually, she instructed me to wash my hair, and when the water ran clear, my hair was a dark brown. I stared. It was as if I was looking at a stranger.

“You suit both,” she said with a satisfied hum. “Most women don’t.” “Thank you.”

A hand shifted the curtain, and Tibris met my eyes. “Wow. It’ll take some getting used to.”

Vicer looked over his shoulder and nodded. “Good. Let’s get your eyes altered.” He held out his hand, dumping several coins into Chava’s palm, and I got to my feet. She nodded at me.

“Nice to meet you.” “You too.”

Vicer led us to another table—this one closer to the back of the large space. My skin was prickling with the knowledge of just how deep we were

—and how little it would take for the cave to collapse around us. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

Tibris gave me a look that told me he didn’t believe me, but he stayed silent while Vicer murmured to another merchant, this one a beautiful woman with dark skin and eyes.

Those eyes met mine, crinkling around the corners.

“I can see why you need some help with those. They’re pretty, but they’re an unusual color that makes people look twice. I have a charm that will work, but you’ll need to have it replenished. I’ll talk to Vicer about getting you a new one every few days.”

The thought of relying on someone else to help with my disguise made me nervous. But with no other choice, I took the necklace she handed me.

“Try it on,” she instructed.

I pulled it over my head, and she held up a mirror. With my dark hair and brown eyes, I looked nothing like my description on the parchment, and my stomach settled as I examined my reflection.

“This is perfect. Thank you.” “Good luck to you,” she said.

I nodded. She didn’t know who I was, but clearly the fact that I’d arrived with Vicer gave her some idea of what I was up to. He led us toward the tunnel we’d crawled through, but the cloth to my left parted, just enough for me to see what was happening beyond.

As I watched, a man held his hand to a woman’s temple. A moment later, she stood, wearing the blue mark that marked her as twenty-five winters.

I let out a strangled sound, and the man’s eyes met mine. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes a cool gray as he watched me. Tibris grabbed my arm, pulling me away.

“There are people who can do that?” I hissed.

Vicer gave us a warning look over his shoulder, continuing toward the tunnel. Tibris continued pulling until I fell into step with him.

I glanced over my shoulder at the line that was forming outside the gray-eyed man’s cave. If hybrids were lucky enough to be born in the city, they at least had a scrap of hope.

“Vicer’s people smuggle as many hybrids as they can—usually down to Gromalia. Areas still exist there where hybrids can live quiet lives. But that mark…for those who can afford it, it is freedom.”

“For those who can afford it,” I said. “The king’s guards keep records. What happens when the hybrids don’t appear on the day of their Gifting

ceremony?”

Vicer glanced over his shoulder at us. For a moment, I wondered if he was about to tell us to shut our mouths. I glanced around us, at the people who were purchasing all kinds of highly illegal goods and services, and almost laughed. No one cared what we were up to. Several of the people here had already slapped Vicer on the back, leaned close to have a murmured conversation, or introduced family members.

Vicer waited for us to catch up to him. “They flee long before the ceremony,” he said. “Whole families disappear in the middle of the night— along with anyone loyal to them. Sometimes, they fake their own deaths. There are hybrids with a gift for illusion who can help there.”

“And those without the coin they need are eventually caught using their power or found attempting to flee, or worse.”

Vicer just nodded, turning away.

I glanced back at my brother. Tibris’s face was hidden in shadows. When he took his next step into the blue-green light, he looked older than his twenty-seven winters. “There are only a few with the ability to mimic the priestess’s mark, and most get discovered, slaughtered by the king,” he murmured. “This…this was my plan for you. I wanted to get you to the city, get you marked, and then we would find somewhere new. As a family.”

“How could we have afforded it?”

“I was working on it. Hiding money away. Vicer has someone who owed him a favor. And…I had a few ideas.”

I gave him a gentle elbow in the side. “I’m still mad at you for not sharing those plans with me. But I love you.”

He sighed. “I know. I’m sorry. And I love you too.” “Tibris?”

All three of us froze. It was Vicer who relaxed first, and Tibris’s mouth curved in a wide grin.

“Gudram?” Tibris released my arm and turned to slap his friend on the back. Vicer just sighed.

“One of his contacts. They’ve only met once but worked together for years. This will take a while.”

Someone bumped into me, mumbling an apology, and Vicer jerked his head, gesturing for me to follow him to lean against the cave wall.

“Do you think we can do this?” I asked.

Vicer kept his gaze on the market. “I’ve been a part of the rebellion since shortly after I arrived in the city. This is the first time many of us have felt hope. If we can get both Asinia and Demos free… I don’t have to tell you that it will strike a blow to the king’s reputation. It will bolster those who doubt the rebellion and allow us to strike where the king thinks he has no weaknesses.”

“This Demos…how well do you know him?”

Vicer sighed. “He’s a hard man but a fair one, and he has done more for your people than anyone else I can think of. I worked under him until he was arrested—it was pure luck I wasn’t there when the king’s guards raided our headquarters that night.”

Pure luck? I had to know I could trust Vicer. He’d been in the city for years now. How could I be certain he wasn’t sending me to my death? “Who did you lose, Vicer?”

He turned and gave me a faint smile. “I understand. You need to know I won’t betray you. You always were the calculating type. Smarter than you were given credit for.”

I winced and he laughed. “It’s not an insult.” But he’d said it like it was.

Vicer heaved a sigh. “When I first moved to the city, I thought my life was finally beginning. The gods had given me back more power than most, and it was the kind that would be useful.”

“What can you do?”

He glanced away. “I don’t like to talk about it. I…can’t. Not yet.”

“It’s okay.” I’d only recently been able to talk about my own power myself. And I hadn’t been forced to use that power for the crown every day. Vicer seemed to steady himself. “I arrived, eager to do the king’s bidding. For those who have a purpose, we’re blindfolded and taken somewhere outside the city. There, we have a separate ceremony. They said it was to thank the gods for our power. But directly after, I noticed I had

more power, and that power seemed to grow each day.” “Because that power was useful to the king.”

“Yes. At the time, I thought the gods had blessed me more than most. I embraced life here. I went to the best parties, wore the most fashionable clothes, drank the most expensive wines. Then one day, at one of those parties, I met a woman.”

His eyes held such desolation, a lump formed in my throat. “You don’t have to tell me.”

“No, it’s okay. I…I should talk about her more. For a while, I couldn’t even say her name. But everything I do is for her.”

Dread rippled through me. “She was a hybrid, wasn’t she?”

He closed his eyes. “Yes. I didn’t find out until months later. Guards stormed our home. One moment, she was in my arms, and the next, she wasn’t. I was taken to be interrogated by one of their truth-seekers. When they found I had no knowledge of what she was, I was freed.” He opened his eyes once more, and they blazed with fury. “Because my power was still useful. But the love of my life had been taken. By the time they let me go, Gods Day had passed. I never saw her again.”

The color had disappeared from Vicer’s cheeks, and he looked drained.

Almost lifeless.

I took a shaky breath. “What was her name?” “Rosin. She was Margie’s daughter.”

That explained why they’d become so close. And why he trusted her so deeply. Reaching out, I grabbed Vicer’s hand.

“I’ll do whatever I have to. For Rosin.” He squeezed my hand. “For Rosin.”

Just a few hours later, Vicer stood waiting outside the rebels’ headquarters. He handed me a piece of parchment, and I stared at the royal seal. I’d known Vicer had contacts in the castle, but this looked so…official.

“How?”

“We have someone with replication magic.”

I’d heard of replication magic, even in my small village. Not only was it incredibly rare—and therefore valuable—but those with the power of replication were almost always taken to the city to work for the king. It was an open secret that some people with this magic were able not just to replicate, but to make small changes when necessary. That meant my identification was legal—at least as far as the guards would be able to tell.

Such magic would be incredibly useful. Weapons, food, clothes…where did that power end?

“Are you ready?” Vicer asked, jolting me from my thoughts. He hadn’t seemed nervous until this very moment, but the tension on his face rekindled my own.

Tibris slapped him on the back. “We’re ready.” Nerves fluttered in my stomach.

We don’t have time for your insecurity and self-doubt.

How Lorian would laugh if he knew just how much I was relying on those words.

In another life.

My chest tightened, and I shoved the memory out of my mind.

Vicer nodded at us. “A carriage will take you to the servants’ entrance. Your identification will be checked at every stop. Keep your eyes down, your attitude meek,” Vicer addressed the last to me. “No matter what the guards say to you.”

I sighed. For Asinia, I could be meek. After all, I’d had plenty of practice at every Gifting and Taking ceremony in our village as I’d fought not to draw attention to myself. “I will.”

He opened the door, and I surveyed the carriage. Thankfully, it had a horse. The driver leaned against the carriage and waited, a scowl on his face.

Margie had followed us out. “Good luck,” she said.

I met her eyes. Hope gleamed at me, and I wanted to hunch my shoulders under the weight of it. But I held her gaze. “Thank you.”

Within a few moments, we were sitting in the carriage, watching as the slums gave way to townhouses and green parks.

“You know, with your dark hair, we look more alike now than we ever have,” Tibris said casually.

“Are you…angry about Papa?”

We both knew what I meant. If Papa had been working on my memories…

When he didn’t speak, I took a deep breath and kept talking, unable to leave it alone. “I’m younger than you by almost five winters. Ivene said I was three winters when Mama took me.”

Our eyes met, and this time, Tibris’s eyes were hollow. “I had seen eight winters. And yet I have no recollection of suddenly having a new sister. As far as my memories are concerned, you were just always…there.”

It was bitterness I tasted now. Both our parents were dead. We couldn’t turn back time and ask Papa why he’d gone along with whatever reason Mama had given him for taking me from my true parents.

She had said it was to save my life. But to keep it hidden for so many years, to never tell those parents that I was okay?

Unless she didn’t need to tell them. Because they were dead. The thought made me want to howl.

“Papa must have been working on me constantly.” Tibris’s voice was as bitter as the taste in my mouth.

I couldn’t blame him. As far as we’d known, Papa had only ever used his magic for good. Like most people, he’d only had enough power to help temporarily, so he’d gone from village to village, softening the kinds of memories that ruined lives. Mothers who’d lost their children, husbands who’d lost their wives. Usually, those memories were hardest due to self- blame. My father had been the last hope for those who couldn’t live with the guilt.

But he’d always told me there were few things worse than altering the memories of someone who hadn’t given their permission.

If he’d been working on Tibris and me for all those years, the guilt would have been eating him alive.

“I can’t forgive him for it,” Tibris said hoarsely. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive him.”

My chest clenched. My brother was known among his friends for his inability to hold a grudge.

“I think…I think he was trying to protect you.”

He lowered his brows. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” “Understood. Uh, just so you know…one day I want to try to find my

birth parents. At first, I thought it would be a kind of betrayal. But they had a daughter taken from them, and they deserve to know what happened. If

they’re still alive. But that doesn’t mean I don’t still consider you to be my brother.”

“I know. You don’t have to worry about me.”

I’d always worry about him. It was my job as his sister. But from the frown on Tibris’s face, it was clear he was ready to change the subject.

“So…how much do you know about wine and ale?”

Tibris let out a laugh. “Less than you know about cleaning.”

“My work at Herica’s bakery must have been good for something,” I said.

I hoped she was okay. Hoped she hadn’t been punished by the village for having hired one of the corrupt. She was old enough that she hadn’t needed to be assessed, but…

How much trouble had I caused for her?

We rounded a corner, and the castle came into view. It looked like a fortress that had been built to defend against some ancient enemy, with stone walls so dark they appeared almost black—each brick cut into perfect rectangles. Several towers loomed over us, stretching into the sky with tiny windows dotted at what seemed like random intervals.

I reached for my brother’s hand. “I’m scared,” I admitted. There were very few people I would admit such weakness to.

“I am too.”

Tibris looked at me and shook his head at whatever he saw on my face. “I’ve been scared since I got home and found you gone. Since I heard you’d fled and Asinia had been taken. Since Mama…” A muscle ticked in his jaw. “But every time I think about it, about how part of me wondered if you were dead too, the fear gives way to rage. Focus on that, Prisca. Focus on everything they took from us. Focus on Asinia.”

Vengeance burned in my belly. Tibris was right. Fury was better than fear. Lorian had said the same when it came to using my power.

Our carriage continued past the castle and the long line of horseless carriages, most of them white and gold. Likely nobles arriving for some party. We continued straight, taking the next right, and the carriage slowed for the gatehouse. Several guards stood outside the servants’ gate, and I forced myself to slow my breathing.

“Halt,” a voice said, and the carriage stopped.

I pulled out my papers and buried my other hand in the folds of my dress to hide the shaking. The guards would expect some nerves—after all,

we were peasants about to begin working in the castle. But blind terror would make them take a closer look.

One of the guards leaned in the window of the carriage, his gaze sweeping over both of us. “Papers.”

We handed them over. He scanned them and nodded, holding them back out for us to take. The gates opened, and the carriage continued to the next checkpoint. Now that we’d passed the first test, my limbs went weak.

This guard took longer, reading each word and comparing the descriptions to our faces. I lowered my gaze, as would be expected.

“Where are you coming from?” he asked.

My skin tightened at his hard stare. “Mistrun,” I said without hesitation. Silence stretched as he continued to study our papers. A line of sweat slid down my spine, and I fought to keep my expression neutral, a little bored. Finally, he nodded, holding out our papers. The carriage continued,

and I let out a shuddery breath.

“I thought I was going to vomit all over myself,” I muttered.

Tibris shook with laughter, and it was easy to see the relief that had set in. “We did it,” he said. “The hardest part is over.”

I shook my head as the carriage stopped once more, directly outside the servants’ entrance.

“Somehow I doubt that.”

We got out of the carriage, each carrying a satchel that held our few belongings. A stern-faced woman appeared in the doorway.

“You’re the new recruits from Mistrun.” “That’s right.” Tibris smiled at her.

Her eyes softened slightly. “Well, get moving, then.”

We both jumped into action, following her into the castle. The servants’ entrance opened into a narrow room, where several delivery boys were waiting. One of them leered at me, and I gave him a killing look.

Tibris elbowed me, and I forced my gaze down once more. “Names,” the woman barked.

“I’m Setella, and this is Loukas,” I said.

“My name is Nelia. I run an organized castle. Loukas, you will go into the next room, where one of the other cellar servants will give you a uniform and show you your bed. Setella, follow me.”

Tibris gave me a reassuring smile and disappeared. I followed Nelia, taking mental notes of every turn. Directions weren’t something I was

typically good at, but by the time I left this castle, I would know every inch of it.

Nelia led me through the kitchen, which was so hot and steamy, I was instantly grateful to Vicer that my position had nothing to do with cooking. By the time we walked past the roaring fire—and the cook who was screaming at a maid—I was sweating in my cloak.

We exited the kitchen into a long corridor. “These are the servant hallways.” Nelia nodded at varying doors, which must have opened to more corridors. “They allow us to travel through the castle without disturbing the nobility.”

Because reminding the nobility that there were people catering to their every whim would be the height of bad manners.

Nelia seemed to be waiting for a response, so I gave her a nod.

“Tell me you’re not another empty-headed, slow-moving fool,” she growled, striding down the hall.

I trotted after her. “No, not at all,” I protested. “Merely taking everything in.”

“Move faster.” At the next intersection, she turned left and led me up a flight of stairs. Glancing down at the paper in her hand, she nodded. “We have an empty bed in the third room to our right.”

Opening the door, she gestured to the bed farthest from the fire. “That’s yours. Put your things away and follow me.”

I counted eleven other beds.

Sleeping in a room with that many women would make sneaking around this place even more challenging.

“Dress, and meet me in the corridor. I’ll return for you.”

I nodded, and she just rolled her eyes at me, stalking away. A few minutes later, I was wearing a maroon woolen dress that fell to my ankles. The dress had a row of tiny gold buttons down the front—even the maids had to wear the king’s colors.

With nowhere else to store my satchel, I shoved it beneath the bed, meeting Nelia in the hallway once more.

Where were the dungeons?

That question played in my mind over and over. Obviously, they were below us. But who kept the keys? Where was the entrance? How well was it guarded? Was Asinia still alive?

“In here,” Nelia said, opening another door. The room was large, shelved, and stuffed full of cleaning supplies.

“You will be in charge of cleaning the floors,” she said. “We have a woman who uses her magic on each floor once a day, but so many people walk through this castle that many of them are filthy again by lunch.”

My pulse stuttered, and I fought to keep the eagerness off my face. It was easy to see why Vicer had worked to get me this position. I would have a legitimate reason to be in different areas of the castle. Lingering in those areas as I learned everything I needed to know.

“You’ll get started now,” Nelia said. “You can mop the servant hallways until I’m satisfied that you’re a good worker.”

“Thank you,” I said when she handed me the bucket.

Within a few minutes, I was swiping water over the floor outside the servant bedrooms. I got to work, replaying every turn I’d taken, every door I’d seen so far.

“Hello,” a voice said.

I turned to find a woman standing in front of me. Her skin was flawless, her blue eyes large and curious, and she was wearing a dress that matched mine, several blankets piled in her arms.

“I’m Auria,” she said. “I heard we had someone new and thought you might need some extra blankets. I was given that bed farthest from the fire when I first got here, and it was freezing. I work in the laundry,” she explained.

“I’m…Setella. Thank you, that’s truly kind.”

She beamed at me. “You’re welcome. Where are you from?” “Mistrun.”

“I have a cousin from Mistrun,” she started, and I prepared myself for my lies to crack. Footsteps sounded down the hall, and I turned, grateful for the interruption.

A woman was stalking down the hall, her face almost as red as her hair. She was incredibly beautiful, with sharp cheekbones, plush lips, and slightly uptilted eyes. But it was the color of her eyes that was truly remarkable—a blue so deep, it reminded me of the first and only time I’d seen the ocean.

The woman was wearing a dark blue dress which perfectly matched her eyes, with intricate beading emphasizing the hourglass shape of her figure. She looked like a noble, yet she was in the servants’ quarters.

She strode over my newly cleaned floors without sparing us a single glance. I raised my eyebrow at Auria.

“Who is that?” I mouthed.

Auria waited until the woman turned a corner and sighed. “Your clean floors. She could have taken another route.”

“Never mind that. She looks like she should be dining with the nobility.”

“That’s because she is the nobility. She’s one of the queen’s ladies.”

My face must have looked as confused as I felt, because Auria smiled. “Madinia works directly with the queen. Providing her with entertainment, walking with her, going to all the lovely balls and dinners,” she sighed.

“And…she has quarters here?”

“The ladies’ quarters are the floor above us. They’re still technically within the servants’ quarters, but they’re much, much nicer. I had to clean them once, and you would’ve thought they were royalty.”

“That sounds like a great position.”

She nodded, her eyes wide. “They get to go almost anywhere. They can leave the castle when they have an afternoon free—as long as the queen approves, of course. Not all of them are nobility either. And two of them are having trysts with the king’s guards.” She flushed. “I shouldn’t gossip. My friends say it’s my worst quality.”

As far as I was concerned, it was her best. “Nonsense, you’re merely telling me how the castle works. I just arrived today.” I hunched my shoulders a little. “It’s…different here.”

“It is.” Sympathy creased her face. “I better get back to the laundry, but I’ll come get you when it’s time for dinner.”

“I’d like that.”