Bright warmth. Too bright, and too warm. Was this what it was like to die?

My fuzzy mind drifted. I hoped Kardki had led the others to safety and that Fraschkit's group had succeeded in the barn. I hoped they would protect my father. But what would Isalio do? He wouldn't be able to persuade the Guardians to allow him to join them, but he couldn't stay in the palace either.

"Remgar? Remgar!"

The brightness dimmed a little, and my surroundings came into focus: the cell, the dead Demons, and Isalio. He knelt at my side, breathing heavily, black hair drenched with sweat, eyes wide and feverish. Two cuffs circled his wrists, which puzzled me. Hadn't I taken them off?

He brushed a stray curl from my forehead. "Can you hear me, Rem? Please say something."

I ran through an assessment of my body and was surprised by the lack of pain. Though I was still struggling to wake up, my fingers and toes moved when I asked them to. When I glanced at my arm, I found no claw marks. Had I passed out and dreamed the last events?

But then I noticed something even stranger—my ankle. When I massaged the place where I had broken the bone, everything was intact. Even rolling my ankle produced no pain. Reaching for the other injured spots, I found torn clothing but unblemished skin.

"I'm fine," I said, baffled by the truth in the words. I pushed up to sit and examined him more closely. "You're shaking. Are you cold?"

He dragged a cuffed hand through his hair, yanking at the roots. "Am I cold? Really, Rem? After I..." His voice spiraled out of control, shaky and fast. "You know what? No, I'm not even taking blame for this. I warned you I have less control when I'm weak. You took off my cuffs, and you touched me. Why the fuck would you do that? What were you thinking? I could have...I almost..."

What had I been thinking? I mostly just remembered his limp body, his icy skin, his heart barely beating. At that moment, I didn't see a Demon or an enemy. I just saw the imminent death of someone I cared about.

"But you didn't," I said. "You didn't kill me, and not only that, but you..." I rolled out my ankle again, still struggling to believe it. "My ankle was broken, and now it's not. How is that possible?"

He sank back to sitting and studied me with a furrowed brow. "I don't know. I guess I...gave some back."

"Gave some back?"

"At the end, when I realized what I was doing, I started pushing instead of pulling. Seems like it reversed the flow somehow."

"You can do that?"

"No...or at least, I didn't think I could. Only the Duchess—" He broke off to hack a cough into his arm, a dry chuffing that quickly grew deeper and wetter. When he stopped, a patch of bright crimson stained the sleeve of his shirt, and the wet fabric clung to his skin. Red rimmed his eyes, and his shoulders and hands shook harder than before.

My chest constricted. "You gave back too much. You're still not well."

He folded his arms over his chest, covering the red patch on his sleeve with trembling fingers. "That doesn't matter. It's inevitable, anyway."

"What's inevitable?"

A sound from the corridor drew our attention to the door. One light set of footsteps, and something rough swishing over the smooth floor. I glanced at Isalio, raising a hand to tell him to stay put. With a return to near full strength and only one attacker, I could handle this.

"Stay," I commanded. "Don't move."

He drew his knees closer to his chest and nodded. I located the mace and stepped over the guards' bodies toward the door. Raising the weapon, I widened my stance and prepared to swing the moment the intruder arrived.

But when the door opened, the mace sagged to my side. "Duchess?"

Her eyes flitted past me to Isalio, and her nostrils flared. Hairs escaped the knot at the back of her scalp, silver strands floating around her head like an electric storm. The Rogabeast trampled the dead bodies and nudged Isalio with her snout, almost bowling him over.

"I knew it," the Duchess spat. "The General claimed the Guardian lifeforce here was a more important resource than the humans in the barn. But of course, that wasn't the real reason. It's all about his fucking obsession with my nephew."

"The soldiers left the barn?" I said.

She turned to me, eyes narrowed. "The Keeper told me you were released. You came to save the Guardians, I presume, but you didn't stop with that, did you? Why are you here?"

"Isalio gave himself up for my freedom."

The flare of her amber irises softened a little. "But he's the one who imprisoned you. Surely your Guardian honor has no obligation to him."

My eyes drifted back to Isalio, who was absently running a hand over the Rogabeast's rigid scales, smiling weakly though he still shivered. At that moment, I could see so clearly the sweet boy the Duchess claimed he had once been. And though I still struggled to justify that image with the monster who killed my family, the thought of the General touching him again made my gut twist with rage.

My response came out unexpectedly hoarse. "I can't let the General have him."

Isalio dissolved into another coughing fit, pushing the Rogabeast away with one arm while he raised the other to cover his mouth with his already bloodied sleeve. The Rogabeast whined and squirmed closer, her teeth grazing against the arm that pushed her away in a harmless but disapproving gesture. When his coughing receded, his breathing was ragged, and his eyelids fluttered closed.

I tucked the mace into my belt, crouched in front of Isalio, and grabbed his hand. The Rogabeast shuffled back a step and dropped her head onto her front paws, slit eyes still blinking at Isalio. Isalio's pulse was still strong, but I didn't like how cold his hand was—or how weak his efforts were in resisting me.

"Guardian..." said the Duchess, softly. When I glanced back at her, she tapped a bony finger over pursed lips, head tilted. "Will you take him with you?"

Isalio gave a muted protest, but I kept my eyes on the Duchess. "Take him where?"

"Wherever you're going can't be worse than the palace." Her shoulders straightened, eyes steely—transformed from drunken Duchess to army commander. "If the warper still works, use it. Otherwise, carry him out through the hole you made. The General will be here any minute. I don't know if I can beat him, but I can hold him off long enough to buy you time."

"And then what will you do?"

"Then I'll find out how the Queen really feels about me."

Her answer failed to appease me, but she didn't wait for an argument. She pivoted on her heel and stalked down the hallway, signaling the end of the conversation and the start of action. The Rogabeast nudged Isalio once more before scampering off after the Duchess.

I hooked a hand behind his back to support him. He was supposedly the most powerful being alive, but he felt smaller than I had expected, more like the diminutive Demon prisoner I had first met and less like the High Prince who ruled the night.

"Can I carry you?"

He mumbled something ambiguous, and his face fell toward my chest. I would have to accept that as permission. I slid my free hand under Isalio's legs and scooped him off the ground. He softened against me, and a sigh escaped his lips.

My throat swelled up, and my heart beat harder. Whatever uncertainty I had felt before now dissolved, replaced by sheer determination. If this man felt safe in my arms, I couldn't let him down. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him gently but securely as I stepped over the bodies and into the corridor.

The Duchess had already made it to the elevator at the far end. Both of her hands were raised and glowing bright, and the elevator door hissed and smoked. The Rogabeast weaved around her feet, also glowing.

Was she breaking the elevator? Setting a hex on whoever came through? I wasn't sure, and I didn't have time to find out. I jogged toward the warper.

Dust and rubble covered the metal frame, dents rippled the wings, and cracks spider-webbed across the glass. Still, the engine appeared intact. I shifted Isalio to my shoulder, freeing one hand to yank at the handle of the passenger door. It refused to budge, too smashed in. Circling to the other side, I propped open the driver's door and lifted Isalio inside. Careful to keep his head from hitting the windshield, I settled him on the seat.

His eyes fluttered as we lost contact. "Wha—" he started, but he wasn't quite able to form a question.

I wondered if this was the first time a Demon would ride a warper. It was almost certainly the first time a Guardian had taken a Demon in one.

"Buckle the seatbelt," I ordered as I hopped into the driver's seat. "This could be a rough ride."

"Buckle the seatbelt," he repeated, and his lips quirked even as his eyes slid closed. "Is that really what you're worried about right now?"

Admittedly, I couldn't even remember if I had buckled my own seatbelt on the way here, but his vulnerable state was bringing out unignorable instincts. And now that my mind was fixed on it, I couldn't start the engine until he had been secured. When I twisted to fasten his seatbelt for him, he clucked his tongue and grabbed the belt, pushing away my hand.

I felt like I was battling a stubborn toddler. The association didn't help my protective instincts. He's a Demon, I reminded myself forcefully as I fastened my own seatbelt.

My Demon, my brain responded, and I cast one more unwilling glance at him before jabbing the switch on the engine.

With the whir of the engine, the warper lifted off the ground—and wavered, tilting to the side far enough that my heart jumped into my throat and my stomach sloshed. Even fully functioning warpers were not nearly reliable enough for me, and this warper was clearly in poor condition. I swallowed a well of saliva.

A hand touched my knee. "Rem?" He still sounded vaguely amused, but worry threaded his voice. "I've never been in a warper, but I'm pretty sure this one is shit. And I'm pretty sure this is not how you want to die."

I cranked the handle to guide the trembling metal beast toward the pocket of sunlight in the wall. "Yeah, well, I don't have a better option."

"Yes, you do." The amusement left his voice, and his hand on my knee tightened. "Leave me here, and I can distract them for longer. You'll have time to run."

I scoffed. "I didn't come here to run away. I came here—"

I cut myself off and turned my eyes ahead. I came here to free the imprisoned Guardians and to draw Demons away from the barn. That was true; I was certain of it. And yet, I had very nearly said something different.

I came here for you.

The warper hooked toward the hole, still wobbling. Beneath the whir of the engine, something rattled alarmingly.

Down the corridor, the elevator door burst open. Lights blasted, outlining the shadowy figures of Demons and beasts. The explosion temporarily drowned out the rattling and the engine. Squeezing my eyes shut, I murmured a prayer to the First Guardian.

Then I cranked the warper into full gear.

The next seconds passed in a dizzying blur. The warper succeeded in following the already-carved path—almost. The metal frame smashed against the sides of the tunnel, and I slammed into the door one moment and clobbered Isalio the next.

We emerged like vomit from the throat of a beast, sputtering into the darkness. Shuddering, whirling, battering the sand.

The dark chaos hid all clues about our location until we stopped with a thunk, followed by a bang and a fizzle. Though I had not yet switched off the power, the engine died, the last lights blinking out.

I shifted to examine Isalio, but the black night had swallowed him. Reaching blindly, I touched his shoulder. "Hey, you ok?" My words were distant and muddled in my ringing ears.

He made a noncommittal sound, and his hand found mine. His skin was still cold but not as icy as before, and the strength in his grip reassured me.

My relief didn't last long.

As my hearing returned, I registered the vibrations of a low moan, aching and hollow. Other sounds soon joined in: shuffling, skittering, screeching. A chill raked down my spine as I combined those sounds with the impact of our stop and realized where the warper had stopped.

We had entered the Forest of the Lost Beasts.