The rooftop's heavy doors swung wide as I shoved them open, and we made our way inside the Golden Panam building, quickly navigating down the staircase and corridors until we came to a bank of elevators. Half the team came with me, the rest took another service elevator. As we glided downward, while the others murmured quietly between themselves, some readjusting their weapons or dropping equipment bags down by their feet, I leaned up against the elevator's burnished metal wall and went back to my search. Pulling up the newspaper the day after my mother was stolen, I did the same thing, scanning through the articles for something I wasn't even sure what I was looking for. But the Monarch Tower stayed in my mind.

The newspaper was filled with the usual kind of business and world news, as well as local events happening within Ascendria itself. Some fun articles and feel-good ones too, but mostly deaths and murders and disappearances, and the war the law enforcement waged on our magic-infused drugs that infested its streets.

I almost missed it.

Almost.

My shoulders stiffened and my heart erupted into a staccato beat.

I quickly scrolled back, squinting at the screen, carefully reading the article that detailed an extreme electrical fault at the Monarch Tower that had occurred the day before, the same day my mother had been stolen off a quiet country road. The entire building had mysteriously lost power and the fault had been blamed on a lightning strike from a thunderstorm that had swept through Ascendria.

I rubbed my chin, frowning. It was fucking odd that lightning had taken out the Monarch Tower since every building had lightning rods to protect its structure. I knew Mom had been wearing elegant clothing along with her beloved jewelry set as if she was going to meet someone important from one of the Houses. And what better place to meet them than the Monarch Tower?

My mind speared back to my brother a few nights back when we sat across from one another in the library. I'd asked him if he'd felt her that day...and what had he said?

"You ever fall in your dreams? Like that rushing feeling of physically falling and you jolt suddenly awake? The way I woke up was similar to that. But it wasn't falling, it was this swift electric shock that went through me, like lightning I suppose, stuttering my heart. It was a faint echo of what it's like when Mom's tortured with fire, or ice shreds her skin, or her bones are stretched and quaking."

I inhaled sharply.

A bone-deep surety strummed my blood. My mother had been at the Monarch Tower that day and she'd encountered an other. A lightning-striker or a storm-weaver.

Holy hellsgate!

The elevator shuddered to a stop, snapping me abruptly out of my revelation.

I tucked my phone away, doming the pocket, just as the elevator's doors slid open. Shaking the astonishment and unease from my shoulders, I pushed into motion. The mystery of my mother sank into the dark recesses of my mind to be retrieved later and pulled apart further. Right now I needed a clear head and to make a move on my plan for my other problem.

We headed across the building's foyer with its fucking-fancy-whatever-wire-netting sculpture and polished beige flooring, weaving through the steady stream of employees heading into work with briefcases or sleek totes hanging off a shoulder.

The glamour shifted our armor, and we looked like a cascade of the corporate type, an entourage of business-suited men and women, filing out of an early morning meeting. The large sliding doors opened up, and we walked out of the Golden Panam's foyer into the city. The loud noise and scents of the street hit like a brick wall. My nostrils twitched at the smell of exhaust fumes blending with steamy plumes of coffee and food stalls selling breakfast in cardboard boxes. My team and I strode down the block shoving through the human traffic and crossed the busy street. Vehicles idled, their engines rumbling as we passed in front of them in a swarm of pedestrians heading to the subway terminal

We made our way inside the terminal, joining the hustle of commuters as we passed through the stiles, down escalators to the lower level with people waiting on the subway platform with its painted lines. The clanking and onward rush of an approaching train echoed down the arched tunnels, metal on metal, the smell of humans mixing with a metallic burn wafting through the air, along with oil and grease.

As we moved through the milling commuters, our glamoured armor warped into workmen's uniforms so we wouldn't draw suspicion when we entered the service doorway. The shadow key's cool wisps of dark magic tickled my fingers as I slipped it inside and turned the lock over. We entered a service corridor and disappeared down its length with crackling white light overhead, and pushed into a jog to traverse the chipped floors and stairways, heading down, down, down, venturing deeper and deeper into the roots of the subway terminal, until we found the ancient door nestled amongst rusty piping that opened to the catacombs.

The stone door yawned shut behind us and we moved through darkness so black I had no idea how my little bird had managed to take a single step inside when she'd sought the Uzrek and answers to what she was.

Nelle was beginning to worry me too. I felt...a jolt of shock, the heat of her anger...crackling and burning beneath my skin. All I could do was move ahead, one step at a time, trying to keep my focus. Because this time I couldn't interfere.

The glow of flashlights was feeble against the might of the black inkiness as we traveled down the twisting steps of crumbling stone and through a network of dank, craggy tunnels, until finally, we arrived at a gaping hole gouged in the pitted floor of a vast cavern, stagnant water pooling in its uneven surface. The hole cleaved apart the lower levels of the immense labyrinth hidden beneath the city of Ascendria, and I peered into its vast depth. Level by level had been sheared right through, and all that could be seen was its tattered edges.

In the cavern, there were thick ropes fixed to a rock face and supported by a metal frame suspended over the dark abyss, which the ropework draped into like snakes. I drew the zipper of my jacket up high, shivering against the chilly, stale air. Glancing over my shoulder, I spied an alcove nearby, and it looked as if a makeshift camp had been erected with cots and camping equipment. I frowned. Mela, if I had to guess, was making a home down here.

I dumped my weapons bag, like everyone else, crouching down to open it up and dig out what I needed. My sheathed swords were quickly strapped to my spine. The knotted hilt of the wyrmblade poked my shoulder along with my twin bastard sword, and as my fingers worked in a flurry buckling the harnesses, my mind was working just as fast. This time I wasn't focused on the mystery of my mother but on someone else. I'd already devised a plan, however, I still had two integral pieces missing and all I could do was have faith they would fall into place soon. I also needed to put my trust in someone outside of my family.

The team of Văduva hunters trudged wearily past, trading places with mine.

Mela stepped out of the gloom and clapped me on the shoulder. "Gray." A small flashlight was attached to her shoulder and its frayed edge shone near my face. I nodded toward the makeshift camp, silently asking what the fuck that was all about.

Her eyes slid sideways and she tensed. She darted a furtive glance over her shoulder briefly to make sure no one else was in listening range. Her voice dropped to an earnest whisper. "I need this distraction until I can move on with rescuing Elyse."

Gods, did I know what that was like. My entire family did.

"How's that going?" I asked just as quietly.

Mela worked her jaw from side to side trying to keep control over her collapsing emotions as her thick eyebrows slanted downward over brown eyes shining with liquid helplessness. My heart faltered with her anguish and I shot my hand out to grip her upper arm in reassurance. She ducked her head, her full lips thinning above a quivering chin. "It depends on Evelene," her voice broke on the words, and she took a moment to steel herself.

My hand withdrew from her arm when she raised them both to run the flat of her palms across her braided crown, before perching her fists on her hips and sucking in a fortifying breath. Her gaze had hardened when they lifted to meet mine. "She's working on Corné to get a tour of the laboratories. Until then, I'd rather keep myself busy. There's nothing I can do until Evelene gets back to me, and when she does, I'll be gone."

Fair enough. Exactly what I'd be doing too.

"Okay," I nodded, still a little reluctant. "You good for this now though?"

She hooked her thumb over her shoulder toward the cot and gave a tight smile. "You don't need to worry, I've already slept. Come on, let's get to it."

Petra, the Văduvas' head hunter, had a map spread out on the rugged floor of the cavern. Thanks to my mother, Wes Zhang had survived his horrific injuries the fateful night she'd been abducted. Unfortunately, my father's Second-in-Command had been traveling in one of the SUVs that had plummeted from the sky. Soon after Wes's recovery, my father appointed him as his new Second in our covert war to find my mother. So it was rather fitting that Wes had designated his son, Jiao, as my Second on this mission to capture Yezekael.

Jiao squatted down next to Petra, and between the two of them, they scoured the scratches of ink, the additional outlines made to the map of what had been searched that night, and what unknown areas of the subterranean tunnels we should search next.

Petra rose, rolling the map up, her palms a tawny color in contrast with her burnt-umber skin. She strode toward me. As she approached, Mela's flashlight coated Petra in filmy light and brushed over the silver dusting her springy hair tied back into a dense ponytail. The older woman fixed sharp eyes on me, and it was impossible to tell if she genuinely liked me or not—anyone really, with the permanent grim expression she wore—until her mouth tugged up into a wide smile that rounded her cheeks feathered with fine lines. "Where's your grumpy prick of a father?"

I flicked the tips of my fingers over my mouth to tame the grin. 'Grumpy prick' was the only name Petra referred to him as. I shrugged a shoulder. "Still out of State on business."

My father liked Petra immensely. Years ago she and House Văduva had battled alongside him at the Servants' Dance to thwart a Horned God who had awoken starved, and in a half-dreaming state preyed on those at the dance. The very same Horned God my brother was hoping would soon arrive at the Emporium—Jurgana. Jett hoped to pique Jurgana's curiosity with Nelle so we'd gain a Goods Appraisal which was what we needed to obtain an invite to the Witches Ball.

Petra murmured a harrumph before saying, "He's missing out on all the fun then." She turned to address my team, and they made their way to the edge of the vast chasm.

We had to travel further this morning. We needed to go deeper within the catacombs on our hunt for the hidden nest of Yezekael. The quickest way was fast roping down the chasm to get to a lower floor, rather than work our way through the rabbit warren of tunnels and crudely cut stairs. Once we reached the bottom of the crevasse we'd travel deeper and deeper into the subterranean bowels of the earth where creatures lurked more fearsome than krekenns. Stone Eaters were down there. Great serpents that chewed their way through rock.

The eerie sound of scuttling had my gaze swinging wide. I kept a close eye out for krekenns crawling about the jagged cavern walls, but I couldn't see any. Hoisting my backpack over my shoulders, I tightened the straps, then tugged leather gloves on. The darkness in here was as smothering and timeless as the Uzrek. I was curious to see if the ancient beast was going to leaf through my mind like it had the last few times I'd been down here.

I shifted to the edge of the chasm with Mela. The tips of my boots halted at its crumbled edge and I peered down into endless black, broken only by the fluttering clouds of dragonflies to illuminate the darkness for our men and women as they descended the ropes.

Some long-ago cataclysmic event had torn a hole right through the honeycombed tomb. It was a vast crack, and silent but for the quiet murmuring of our team, the creak of rope, and a rattle of rockfall in the distance.

Petra followed everyone else down but I hung back so I could talk in private with my friend. Mela raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "What is it?"

Stone gritted beneath my boots as I shifted to face her. I breathed deeply and spoke directly. "I need your help."

Her dark brown eyes narrowed and seemed to sparkle as if she'd been biding her time awaiting this moment. She cocked her head. "Is this what we spoke about the first time we were down here?"

I nodded, and she grinned, a quick flash of warmth and amusement surfacing, a brief reminder of the person she'd been before grief and worry over Elyse had subdued her natural easy-going charm. "Whatever trouble you're in, I'm here to help you get out of it."

I dropped my gaze to my boots, gratefulness and utter relief overwhelming me. The word croaked from my thickening throat. "Thanks."

"Tell me what I can do," she urged softly.

Clearing my throat, I reached for the rope, grabbed hold, and pushed off the edge of the chasm, swinging over the abyss to hitch my feet around the thick cord. I began to ease downward, and Mela mirrored me, keeping pace on the rope opposite. The pitch-black nothingness that threatened to devour us whole was kept at bay by the hovering cloud of iridescent dragonflies, their illumination weaving about us in streaks of gauzy jeweled hues. As we slipped our way down the rope, making our way deeper and deeper into the chasm, I spoke quietly and Mela listened closely, asking a few questions every so often as to what I needed from her to make this work. To make it right.