Not much happened at lunch. Few things were said, as no one had much to talk about—or, at least, no one had much to talk about that wouldn't risk giving our plans away. Cass didn't seem to mind our lack of liveliness. After all, it made sense for people to be tired and hungry after they'd been traveling through the forest for a while. It made sense for us to go up to our rooms, as travelers would likely crave the luxury of a bed, and a mattress, and a clean, warm blanket.

Also, we needed to be well-rested for the events of the night.

My dreamlessness—and, therefore, my nightmarelessness—did not extend to the nap I took. The Magician was always there. He pushed me off cliffs and left me in darkness, his laughter fading into the silence of the grave. He cursed me, or cursed Bran or Lark, or un-cursed Reed and left him hanging by a hand on the edge of a bridge, just far enough that I wasn't able to reach him before his grip slipped and he fell.

I tossed and turned, waking up and falling asleep again and again and again in a restless rhythm.

When Lark shook me awake, I nearly thanked her for freeing me from the ever-terrible dreams.

We met in Cass and Ista's room, sitting on the beds and waiting until all of the team had assembled.

"Are we ready?" Cass whispered. She smiled when everyone nodded. "Good. Here's the plan. Lark will play music to make the guards fall asleep, and we'll tie them up. Like I said when we were planning earlier, Ista will tell Dren to transport us out if anything goes wrong. Right, Ista?"

Ista nodded. "Right."

"Once we're inside, we'll head to the lower levels of the tower. We'll rescue the Blessed we know will be there. If any other Blesseds are being held, and we find them, we'll rescue them, too." She grinned, suddenly wild and excited. "If there are any questions, ask them now."

Bran raised his hand. "If things go wrong, Dren will transport us out, correct?"

"Correct," said Cass. "However, if he's unable to do that for some reason, there's a plan set in place that'll still get us out safely. Hopefully, we won't need to use it. Anyone else?"

Silence.

"Great. Then let's go." She crossed to the wall and opened the window. "I chose this room because of its closeness to the stable roof. Land as softly as you can, but if you make a bit of noise, don't worry. Only horses are there to hear you."

She hopped out onto the roof, and we followed her along the wooden beams until we reached the edge and dropped down one by one into a convenient haystack.

The moon shone high above our heads, glinting off the metal tower that stood before us. We slipped through the shadows. Lark ducked around the corner with her a violin case, and a moment later, the sweet, gentle notes of music flowed through the streets. A song of peace. A song of long travels, and soft pillows, and the slow down-slipping of tired eyelids.

I watched from behind a barrel as, one by one, the guards in front of the tower fell asleep and toppled to the ground like discarded dolls.

Cass darted across the street in an instant, her whispered, "Come on," hanging behind her before it was blown away by a breeze of the cold night air.

I ran forward, into the moonlight and out of it in an instant, until I stood beside Cass.

She barely spared me a glance, her attention concentrated on picking the lock before her. "Remember the plan? Tie up the guards."

"Right," I said.

The moment had caught me up and swept me with it, and I'd forgotten what I was supposed to be doing. Nerves twanged in my belly. Like all the other Blesseds, I had good, strong rope in my pockets, and I used it to tie a guard's wrists and ankles together with a few swift knots, moving onto the next guard as soon as I was finished.

By the time all the guards had been tied up, Cass was done with the lock.

More guards awaited us inside, slumped in their chairs, the cards from the game they'd been playing strewn across the floor. We tied them up, too, and continued into the tower: through a door, down several flights of stairs until the moonlight from the windows had gone, and all we had was the cold firelight of the torches that were set in the walls.

Beside me, Jaret laughed.

"What?" I asked.

He smiled. "I wonder what will happen to those guards when their leaders find them, asleep and trussed up like game birds."

"Sounds embarrassing," said Ista. "I wish I could be here to see it."

Cass was a ways ahead of us, and her voice echoed around the twists and turns of the stairs. "If we're not careful with this mission, we just might be."

"That's a good point," Brinley said from behind us. "It's best if we don't get cocky just yet."

"Who said anything about getting cocky?" Jaret asked. "The guards will probably get in trouble with their leaders whether we get caught or not."

"Don't tempt fate."

Jaret rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

Brinley hooked his ankle with her own when he took his next step, and the only thing that stopped him from tumbling head over heels down the stairs were the shadows pulled off of the floor and walls to grab his arms and steady him.

Brinley laughed.

"You're the worst," said Jaret.

"No you're the worst," Brinley shot back. She ran past him down the stairs, bumping roughly into him on the way.

He ran after her. "Oy! Get back here!"

Ista sighed fondly. "Idiots."

"I heard that," said Brinley's voice.

"All right, all right," said Cass, "time for everyone to calm down. We're here."

And indeed, as we turned the corner, it became apparent that we had arrived.

The cells here were different from the other ones. Most of them were made of metal, but a select few were made of wood, or thick, shiny glass. Cass stood in front of the latter, her hand atop the windowpane. She looked down with pity at the crumpled form within. Cracks began to spiderweb from the area where she held her hand.

"Jaret," she said. "Get ready. Make sure this doesn't hurt anyone."

And then, with a loud crack, the window shattered. Bits of glass flew across the room, and I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, waiting for the slicing pain that would come when the shards cut my skin to ribbons.

Nothing happened.

I opened my eyes again, and I could see nothing but darkness. I tried to move. I was trapped. A sob escaped my lips, and I panicked, trying to wrench my body free from whatever force held it captive.

"Fyra! Hold still! Calm down!"

The voice belonged to Jaret. Of course. He'd saturated the room in shadows to protect us from the explosion of glass.

A moment later, the shadows dripped back down to the floor again, freeing me.

"Are you all right?" Jaret asked me, voicing what everyone else was likely thinking as they stared at me with concern in their eyes.

"I'll be okay," I said, breathing slowly to try and steady my pulse.

Cass stepped over to me. "It's my fault. I'm sorry. I should have warned you. I was too eager to get her out."

As she spoke, she nodded to the broken cell, and we saw that the pile of limbs and hair inside it had stood.

"Hi," said the Blessed. "I'm Lir. Thanks for coming."

"Of course." Cass offered Lir a gentle smile. "It's what we do. Did they hurt you?"

Lir shook her head. A savage grin flickered briefly over her features. "I think I hurt them more."

"Ah," said Cass. "So you're a fighter. May I ask what your Blessing is?"

"I can control metal." Lir turned to one of the other cells and strode quickly over. "Speaking of which. While I was in here, they caged another Blessed. I assume it's all right if I release him?"

Cass nodded. "Of course. And if you know of any other Blesseds who need rescuing, take us to them, too. The more the merrier."

Lir ran her hand along the metal bars of the cell, and when she touched them, they separated at the middle and curled up on themselves like claws. She grinned while she worked.

"Come on out," she said once she was done. "We won't hurt you."

She backed away as though afraid to scare the person within.

A ragged figure emerged, hidden within the depths of a brown shawl. The Blessed was limping. They looked from Lir to us and back again, crouching downward.

Then they threw themselves onto Lir with a battle cry.

Lir screamed as she went down, hands flying up to protect her face from the sudden attack. The shawl fell off the Blessed—or, as it turned out, the person who only pretended to be a Blessed. Red hair, brown eyes, a knife in hand.

Clara.

We watched, frozen in horror, as she pulled a stiletto dagger out of its sheathe at her hip and buried it in Lir's side. Lir screamed again and aimed a punch at Clara's face, but Clara quickly shifted to the side. Lir's body went limp.

Clara turned to grin at us. "Blesseds. I wondered."

"Why are you here?" Cass asked, stepping in front of us protectively.

Clara laughed. "Why am I here? To capture you, obviously."

"Good luck with that."

Cass crouched down into a fighting stance and sent a burst of fire toward Clara, but Clara quickly grabbed Lir's body and held it between her and the flames. Cass had no choice but to draw the fire back.

"The guards'll be here soon," taunted Clara. "Better try harder than that, or you'll be stuck here."

Cass glanced back, just long enough to catch Ista's gaze without leaving herself open to an attack from Clara. "Keep us aware."

"I will," said Ista.

I wondered what she meant. Then Ista's voice projected into my mind.

Are you all ready?

I couldn't hear the chorus of yeses, but Ista's next words assured me that the whole group had agreed.

Attack in three. Two. One!

I'm very tired, and I honestly can't think of any fancy way to ask you guys to vote. So just... please vote. Love you guys. Take care of yourselves.