I woke at dawn, when golden sunlight peeped through the dew-sparkling brown of the trees, and my companions had begun to stir. The rain had stopped. The fire had gone out at some point in the night.

I'd had no nightmares, probably because I'd been so bone-tired that I hadn't dreamed at all. It was refreshing to have my waking untainted like this.

As I sat up, I realized I was soaked to the skin. Dewdrops had settled on my clothes. As I moved, they soaked into the fabric.

"I'm wet," groaned Dren.

Ista rolled their eyes at him. "You'll dry."

"I'm wet," Dren repeated. "Why didn't we bring Emmet with us? On a rainy, dewy, wet day, he would have been the perfect Blessed to have around."

Cass sat up and shrugged, grinning at Dren. "The sun's coming up. Soon enough, it'll be warm, and we'll dry off."

Dren sighed.

"We're all wet too," said Ista. "You're not the only one who has to suffer."

Dren ignored her.

"So," said Jaret, "breakfast?"

"Breakfast," Cass agreed. "Clean up the camp. We'll eat while we walk. We're only a few hours away from the town."

"Let's get going, then," said Brinley. "Maybe we can even score a warm meal."

Cass grinned. "You never know. But we won't get the meal if we don't get up and get going."

"Exactly," Ista said, grabbing Dren by his arms and trying to pull him to his feet. He just groaned dramatically as he was dragged along the ground.

Sighing, Cass began to stuff the blanket she'd slept under back into her pack. "Why do I ever expect these trips to be organized?"

"Because your expectations for us are much higher than they should be?" suggested Jaret.

"Because we're lazy," Dren proclaimed, throwing his arms into the air as though he was making some big announcement.

Ista gave up and released Dren's legs. "Because you always invite him along."

Dren rolled to his feet and stood. "If you want to leave me behind next time, go for it. Say hi to jail for me."

Ista stuck her tongue out at him.

"We'd do just fine without you," said Everyn.

"No you wouldn't," said Dren, "otherwise none of you would put up with me. You know you need me."

Ista shook their head. "We know no such thing."

"Anyways," Cass said, nearly shouting in order to be heard over the chorus of groans and objections that had been raised at Dren's last statement. "Pack up! We're going in ten minutes, and if you're not ready by then, I'm leaving you behind."

I smiled, stuffed all my things into my pack, and sat on a fallen log, waiting for everyone else to get ready to leave. It was fun to watch them. They scurried about like squirrels, sometimes jumping over kneeling bodies, or colliding with each other while reaching down to pick an object up.

"Are you all ready?" Cass asked once the ten minutes was up.

There was a chorus of yeses, except from Dren, who hurried to gather up a few more things before adding his own, late, "Yes."

"Great," said Cass. "There should be jerky and an apple in your packs."

Jaret raised his eyebrows. "That's it?"

"Yes." Cass rolled her eyes and began walking. "That's what we always have for breakfast, remember?"

"Mmm.... no," said Jaret. "I don't."

"Now you know."

"What if I'm still hungry?"

Mercilessly, Cass shrugged and smiled. "Not my problem. Eat some tree bark."

Jaret scoffed at the suggestion, but didn't say anything more.

We arrived at the city a few hours later, just as everyone who'd eaten was beginning to grow hungry for lunch. It glinted in the sunlight.

Glinted.

I frowned as we cleared the edge of the trees, trying to make sense of the sight before me. It was a city, yes, but it was brutal—unforgiving—sharp in a way that threatened to chop you to bits and leave you as a feast for the vultures.

The city didn't just have weapons. It was a weapon. High, pristine, wooden walls rose around it, polished to such a degree of shininess that—where the sunlight reflected off of them—it was a blinding brightness. Slits in the walls hinted at places where a hidden crossbow might shoot at you.

Behind the walls, silhouettes of catapults cut a sharp relief against the sky, as did a row of large, loaded crossbows. Some of these bows aimed toward the sky, while others pointed toward the ground. A few arrows were buried at the base of the walls, a warning for anyone who considered intruding.

There was something else about the city that seemed off. A scent, or a look, or a general... feeling, that told me that it was a bad place. That death was present here.

My eyes slipped upward, and I realized why.

Deathbirds circled the city. I'd known since childhood that they knew when death was present—could smell it the way a bear smelled meat, or a human smelled a chocolate cake.

This did not bode well.

"Why all the protection?" Bran asked.

Cass shrugged, walking toward the savage city easily, as though she'd done it a million times before. Perhaps she had. "For one reason or another, this place ends up with more Blesseds than all the other towns and villages in the area combined. And they hate them. They think they're blights from the gods, sent to punish the city."

"And they'll just..." I frowned at the unyielding walls. "They'll let us in? Just like that?"

"Not just like that," said Cass. "There's a test."

"A test?"

"To see whether or not we're Blessed. They've figured out a way to detect the magical energy that pools around a Blessed."

"And how exactly are we going to escape this test?" Bran asked.

"We're not."

"That's what I'm for," Everyn explained. "The test involves magnets—the accuracy of the reading revolves around it, actually—and I can control them. I'll mess up the test results so you can all enter safely."

"And if the test results say we're Blessed?" I wondered.

"Then they try us," said Cass. "Naturally, they'll find us guilty, put us in prison, and, eventually, kill us."

"Wonderful," I said. My throat tightened, and I struggled to breathe slowly and calmly.

Don't worry.

The words came like a whisper, projected into my head, like the thoughts of my deathbirds, only with a different voice. Ista.

The test never goes wrong, Ista said—or rather, thought. Everyn knows how to fix it, and even if he messes up, there's a contingency plan. There's always a contingency plan.

The certainty in Ista's thoughts didn't completely persuade me that we'd be safe, but it still calmed my fears a little.

We walked around the city, proceeding to a place where a tall, heavy-looking, reinforced set of doors had been set in the walls.

Cass turned to Everyn and Dren, who had grouped together as we'd walked up to the wall. "Good luck with the rest of your journey."

"The same to you," said Everyn, a tad gruffly.

It took me a moment to realize that they were playacting—pretending for the benefit of whoever stood on the other side of that huge door, or whoever was listening from atop the walls.

The pair began to walk away, and Cass turned back to the door, reaching to pull a long bit of rope that hung from the right side of the doorway.

Deep inside the city, a bell rang, tone deep and ominous. It lasted for a good half-minute before finally fading away.

The doors began to open.