"I should have been the last to leave." Cassie peeked out from beneath the bridge for the third time. "The whole plot was outlandish. And the worst is yet to come."

"Yeah, perhaps, but we made it here in one piece," Joe whispered from his seated position, somewhere in the dense darkness. "He'll make it. Have some faith. And stop pacing so much. Someone might see you."

Her restless motion continued, and when she couldn't stand to wait any longer, she revealed a sliver of herself into the open. There was still no sign of Chris or anyone else.

Morgan tugged on her cloak upon her return. "Do you see him—my dad?"

"No, not yet, my darling."

Cassie scooped Morgan's loose honey-brown hair into a bundle and gave her a reassuring smile, hoping it was enough to mask her dread.

Morgan nodded solemnly, but then her eyes sparkled. "Daddy!" she cried as she flew toward her father.

Chris set Ryan down and squatted to accommodate his daughter's height. She clung to him around the neck and did not let go. When he stood back up, she had settled into a place in his arm that seemed comfortable and natural.

Chris, however, looked uneasy. He checked out from underneath the bridge more than once, as if he expected unwelcome company at any moment.

His behavior inspired Cassie to hurry. She removed their fake wings and threw them into the West River, where they churned, tumbled, and drowned in the current. Then she gathered their supplies and initiated the journey onward.

For the most part, she felt confident the rocky slope on the right would hide them from view. But light, or almost a complete lack thereof, and the West River provided the next set of challenges. In near darkness—even the strike of a matchstick was a risk—they had to watch their step. The river's winding course and fierce current could easily drag them away and its steep decline culminated in a waterfall with no known bottom. Luckily, the palace was looming overhead, and dim beams of firelight from the windows and grounds would occasionally grace their path. Plus, she had each step committed to memory. It was the only reason she wasn't dwelling on the nightmarish alternative.

When Cassie turned around to check on her companions, Joe was a few paces behind and soon joined her side. They both watched Chris approach with the twins. Morgan was hovering above his head, and Ryan was twisting Chris's arm behind his back.

Chris didn't seem to mind playing their game of flying tug-of war and as long as the children were entertained, they didn't seem frightened.

"He seems to be doing better," Cassie whispered to Joe. "Do you think he'll be all right?"

"I don't think he has a choice."

Cassie and Joe laughed when the twins tangled Chris's arms into a knot.

"Children with wings," Chris said when he caught up to them. "It adds a whole new dimension to parenting. Sorry to keep you waiting."

"You're doing fine. We're almost there anyway," Cassie said, pointing ahead.

Her enthusiasm earned her a curious look from Chris, so she ducked her head, walked on, and made a mental note to tone down the encouragement. She continued leading the way and was the first to arrive at the conduits.

There were four conduits, two depositing water and waste, and the two beyond were no longer in use, their openings buried in sediment. Climbing on top of the fourth, Cassie crouched down and struck the softened wood with the hilt of her sword. Once she produced a hole large enough for everyone to enter, Chris lowered her inside by the hands.

By the time everyone joined her there, Cassie had three torches lit. "Just to warn you," she whispered as she handed off the torches, "what you see in this channel may not be pleasant."

"Why? What's down here—or do I even want to know?" Joe asked. Before she could answer, he picked up a piece of bone from underfoot. He showed it to Chris and then let go of it in a rush. "Nope. I don't want to know," he said, wiping his hand on his side.

After that, they moved on, but the bone had set the mood. The children, at Chris's instructions, flew quietly behind him, while Cassie and Joe eased along the damp wood in a line behind them. They huddled close together. They had to. It was a short, narrow space not meant for travelers, even at fairy size. They looked before they stepped and listened before they completed turns.

At one such turn, Cassie gasped at the squeak she heard and pressed herself against the wall. Joe and Chris quickly drew their swords. Two gray rats scurried around the corner and just barely squeezed by. A third rat paused and twitched its nose at them.

No one moved as the rat's gaze shifted from face to face as if weighing its hunger against its chances of survival. Chris seemed the most appealing to the rat—it lingered over his face the longest—but as Chris raised his sword, the rat blew air through its nostrils bitterly, and then disappeared into the darkness downhill.

"You weren't kidding, Princess," Joe said once it was obvious the rats weren't coming back. "I think I just saw my life flash before my eyes!"

Cassie shrugged. "They're not usually aggressive with us."

"That's reassuring. What else can we be expecting? Do the rats sprout wings?"

Cassie checked around the next turn and waved for them to come forward. "Not today, hopefully," she said as Chris and the twins stepped by her, resuming their place at the lead.

"I'm not even sure you're kidding!" Joe replied, falling into step behind Cassie.

After the turn, it was particularly slick and damp, and the steepness of the slope made walking a challenge. They often had to use a free hand on the wall or ground to avoid slipping backward. The twins stayed in the air. Once the wood began to level out again, the air grew heavier with a disturbing warmth.

"What's that smell?" Chris whispered to Joe.

Cassie overheard him. "It means we're nearly there."

"That's good news, right?" Joe asked.

This time she didn't answer. They would see for themselves soon enough. But she did pause to rummage through her knapsack. "I would put these on the children. And while they are wearing them, they should not fly."

She handed Chris two strips of cloth. He looked puzzled at first, but then the awareness crept into his face. After a moment of persuasion, the children folded their wings and succumbed to the blindfolds. Chris and Joe lifted them into their arms.

As they rounded the final curve, a mound of bones arose in front of them. Its chilling height and breadth were the culmination of years of unencumbered slaughter. And judging by the ruddy hue of fluids at the mound's peak, some of the corpses might even be warm to the touch.

The pile was nearly twice as imposing as Cassie remembered, but she kept her mind occupied on the only advantage—elevation. Reaching the trapdoor would be easy, even for her.

She climbed to the top without delay, wedging her torch into the skeletal fragments at her feet upon her arrival.

As usual, the trapdoor was locked on the inside, but it rattled open to create enough space for the keys and her hand to slip through. She followed her hand along the chain keeping the door tethered to the ground and found the lock.

Key after key, she tried and failed, tried and failed. Certain she had attempted them all at least once, she pulled her hand out to rest and reconsider.

Chris stepped forward as if to help, but he hesitated when his foot crushed through the bones. "Try the hinges," he suggested as he removed his foot.

She nodded and, moving toward the opposite end of the trapdoor, used her sword as a lever. Eventually the ancient wood began to splinter away from the metal hinges. At last the door broke free, tumbled inward, and hung by the stubborn lock and chain.

Cassie set her torch on the floor inside the palace. Her jump rattled bones loose, but she was able to get high enough to climb in. Once she confirmed the chamber was clear of imminent danger, she stuck her head back into the pit. "Are you ready?"

Chris and Joe exchanged hesitant glances and then trod onto the pile.

Joe and Ryan were nearing the top when the bones began shifting with a hollow tone. They paused and waited, but it became apparent that the entire pile was on the verge of collapsing. While Chris held back, sinking little by little, he urged his brother to keep going.

In a race against time, pressure, and gravity, Joe managed to lift Ryan inside the hole. Then Joe jumped for the ledge. With Cassie's help, he got the upper half of his body over the threshold and squirmed to safety.

As Chris began to move again with Morgan at his hip, the hollow tinkling became a rumble. With each step, the bones ate away at his speed and progress. Then one of his steps collapsed through to his thigh and his torch bobbled out of hand. It rolled out of reach and settled near the base of the mound, where it lit some remnants of fabric littered among the debris.

The fire began to climb, devouring the foundation below his feet. Waist-deep and stuck despite his desperate effort to move, Chris had only one choice. "Fly, Morgan!" he cried as he ripped the blindfold from his daughter's eyes.

Chris threw her into the air and her white wings flapped open. Cassie called to her from above, and the fairy child spiraled toward the hole overhead. Just underneath the opening, she twisted toward the flames and froze. Cassie had to pull Morgan in by the waist and set her abruptly aside. There was no time to console her.

Cassie and Joe dived to their stomachs and dangled their arms just as Chris made a jump for them. In a fog of bone dust and smoke, they heaved Chris over the ledge. One elbow and then two, and once one of his knees was secure, Cassie let go and reached down for the broken trapdoor, pulled it upward, and covered the hole as soon as Chris crawled inside.

They all stood, brushed off the filth of death, and oriented themselves to their new surroundings. They were in a dungeon alcove with an unoccupied cell at the back. A suit of armor and a pitchfork propped the cage door open. The shadows cast behind the bars suggested there were other defunct weapons and armor there as well. Otherwise, the room contained broken furniture, once elegant in its prime, and an old chandelier scattered about in ruin.

Cassie moved carefully around the broken glass. From the room's archway, she peeked into the hall. "The main corridor is to the right," she whispered, handing her torch to Joe. "I'm going to get a closer look."

She eased herself down the passage with her back to the wall and stopped just before her body met the angling torchlight. But she could see what she needed to see. The guard station was vacant, though the dungeon was not. Nearly every cell contained three or more prisoners withering away in the shadows.

She darted to the opposite wall so she could get a view of the escape route. The gate was closed, which meant it was also locked. Her hand went to her pocket and she pulled out the Gray Coat's keys. She squeezed them together to keep them quiet and then gave Chris the signal he was waiting for.

Chris extinguished the torches and everyone joined Cassie by the wall. After nods of readiness, Cassie darted out first. Joe and Chris, with the twins in their arms, were quick at her heel.

The corridor was long, but they made fast progress. With each step, though, the murmurs grew. The prisoners were stirring. The pleas for help were hard to ignore. For anyone who might be listening. . .

At the gate, Cassie fumbled to find the right key. After a few failed attempts the lock clicked.

"There should be a tunnel on the right," Cassie said. "It's the only offshoot along that passage, and you'll feel the cold air coming through. It's a steep climb, mostly of ice, but it leads to the forest." Then she turned to leave.

"Cassie, where are you going?" Joe hissed.

"Prop the gate open, but do not wait for me. There is something I must do." 

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