The monks marched Emily and Dorian to the tower at the end of the cliff and down its tightly spiraling staircase. Several times, Emily's feet slipped on the steps, and she was lifted up and upbraided by her captor, a powerfully built woman with jet-bck hair and a severe expression.

  Emily's failed teleportation, thwarted by a bucket of water, had sted just long enough to burn up most of the clothes she had borrowed from Octavia. With the Stoneshell and Bronzeband also confiscated, she was naked but for a few frayed, heavily singed scraps of tunic left on her shoulders.

  From the base of the tower, she was marched through Tiedavon Abbey, past solemn clusters of blue-robed monks. She was a prisoner now, an enemy, and the monks no longer averted their gazes from her bare skin but stared openly with expressions of contempt and barely concealed prurience. She felt every inch of her exposure in the cold night air and from the unyielding stares of the monks.

  But it was the ck of her magical artifacts that made her feel truly naked, more so than she had even on the cliff or the beach. The uncomfortable jolting of her unrestrained breasts was made tenfold worse by the absence of the warm fire-summoning pendant above them.

  Dorian, simirly bound, but still cd in a threadbare blue loincloth, was being frog-marched just behind her.

  Near the ruins of the dome, there was an opening in the ground, below which a torchlit staircase descended. The way was cramped and narrow, and even Emily had to crouch to avoid hitting her head.

  The air grew colder, damper, as they were led down the winding stairs, descending deeper into the abbey's foundations. This, then, was what had been meant by the lower cells. An underground prison.

  Finally, they were shoved through heavy wooden doors into a section of narrow cells carved out of the rock. Thick, rust-pitted bars sealed each opening. A monk unlocked one creaking door, shoved Emily inside with bruising force, and smmed it shut, the heavy bolt thudding home. Moments ter, she heard Dorian being thrown into an adjacent cell.

  Emily nded hard on the cold, damp stone floor. The cell was tiny, barely rge enough to pace three steps across. A trickle of slimy water ran down one wall, pooling in a corner. There was no bed, no light source save the dim torchlight filtering in from the corridor. The air was thick with the smell of salt and mildew.

  She scrambled to the bars, gripping the cold iron. "Let us out!" she yelled, shaking them futilely. "You've got the wrong people! Richard tricked you!"

  The powerful female monk gnced back at her with contempt. "Save your breath, thief. The Council will hear your case in the morning." The wooden door smmed shut behind her.

  Silence descended, broken only by the omnipresent groan of the sea and Dorian's muffled cursing from the next cell. Emily slid down the bars, colpsing onto the floor, the stone rough and cold against her bare buttocks.

  Helplessness washed over her, cold and absolute. The Stoneshell had been taken once more. The warm, constant presence against her chest, source of fire and strength, was missing. She touched the empty space where it had in, feeling only her own skin, cold and cmmy.

  Her left ankle tingled, feeling unusually naked. The Bronzeband was back in Richard's possession. The image of his triumphant wink burned behind her eyelids. He hadn't even needed to fight them—he'd orchestrated their downfall perfectly, using their own actions and the monks' hostility and desperation against them. He now had power over stone once more, along with his resonance magic, and the trust and favor of the monks of Tiedavon. He was more dangerous than ever. And it had all been enabled by a moment of pity from Emily.

  And then there was Aria. Bromberht. Jivaro. All the others. Suddenly struck motionless in the middle of whatever they were doing, involuntarily decorating the halls and courtyards of Paja Abbey. But it wasn't the first time—what must they think of her, always losing control of the artifact destiny had charged her to defend? And they would have a lot of time to think now, trapped as they were. Guilt coiled tight in her stomach, sharp and sickening.

  "Dorian?" Emily called out, her voice raspy.

  "I'm here," his voice came back, rough with anger, but surprisingly close. "Are you alright?"

  "No," Emily whispered honestly. "Are you?"

  A harsh ugh echoed from his cell. "Silly question. I'm sorry I asked."

  "He pyed us," Emily said, her frustration boiling over. "He stole the Azure Essence and then gave it back, painting himself as the hero and us as vilins. And now he's more powerful than ever, and it's all my fault."

  "I wonder if he saw my preparations," Dorian said. "Perhaps he spied us from the beginning, listened in, made a pn that meant he wouldn't have to fight."

  Emily pounded a fist against the stone floor, ignoring the sting. "How could they be so blind? Kastor saw us arrive! He knew we hadn't had time to steal anything!"

  "They wanted the Essence back and someone to bme, an easy story," Dorian said wearily. "We fit the bill perfectly. Outsiders with powerful artifacts, cause a scene upon arrival, demand access to their most precious resource... Richard just gave them the narrative they were already leaning towards. And they already trusted him. He told you that."

  They fell silent again, the weight of their situation pressing down on them. The cold seeped into Emily's bones and her stomach growled with hunger. She hugged herself for warmth, hands rubbing against the fraying remnants of her tunic, still clinging uselessly to her shoulders.

  "Aria..." Emily murmured. "When I'm not wearing the Stoneshell, she..."

  "She froze again," Dorian finished grimly. "I remember. She and the other statues."

  "We have to get out of here, Dorian," Emily said fiercely, pushing herself up from the floor. She peered through the bars into the dim corridor. Empty for now. "We have to get the Stoneshell back. And the Azure Essence. Somehow. I know that sounds crazy."

  "Agreed," Dorian's voice was tight. "Easier said than done, though."

  "You still have some of that cloth, right?" Emily asked. "With the blue pigment that you said helped you escape from the monks st time? Can't you use that?" She blushed slightly at the implication.

  "It's no use," Dorian replied. "These walls are solid rock and the bars solid iron. That's what holds us here, not a containment spell. My art works against magic, not material." There was a loud cnging sound as Dorian struck one of the bars at the front of his cell. "And even if we get out of here, we still have to find where the monks have hidden your artifacts. To say nothing of our initial mission of getting the Azure Essence."

  Emily leaned her forehead against the cold bars, feeling a wave of despair threaten to overwhelm her. Richard had won so completely. They had nothing.

  No, not nothing. They had each other, their wits, and the truth. That had served Emily well before.

  "Morning," she repeated the monk's word. "The Council hears the case in the morning. That gives us... six, maybe eight hours?"

  "That's not much time to break out of an underground prison. Especially without any magic," Dorian pointed out dryly.

  "We'll figure something out," Emily insisted, though her voice cked conviction even to her own ears. "We have to."

  She sank back down to the floor, hugging her knees to her chest for warmth, trying desperately to think, to find some sliver of hope, some cunning pn that they could use to escape, to retrieve the Stoneshell, to acquire the Azure Essence that they had come here for in the first pce.

  Hours crawled by in the cold, damp darkness. Emily traced patterns on the floor with her finger, trying to remember the winding route she had been led down to reach this cell. She would need it when they escaped. Which they would, just as soon as she and Dorian came up with a pn.

  They had tried making a noise to lure a monk down to the dungeon and searched repeatedly for loose stones in the wall behind their cells. But it had been to no avail. In the cell beside hers, Dorian was silent but for the faint, rhythmic tap of his fingers against the stone wall, a sign that his mind was still hard at work.

  Emily had tried to get some sleep but closed her eyes only to be haunted by images of Aria frozen mid-gesture, and Richard's gloating face.

  The first hint of dawn wasn't light, but the distant cng of a bell, and the faint murmur of voices and shuffling footsteps from higher levels. The Council would convene soon. Perhaps they could reason with them, expose Richard's lies. But even if they could, what chance did they now have of receiving any of the Azure Essence? They would be lucky to escape with their lives, let alone a portion of the monks' prized Azure Sphere, the very thing they were accused of stealing.

  The wooden door to the prison creaked open, and heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor, stopping directly outside Emily's cell. They did not belong to Kastor or any of the other monks. Emily, in a huddle facing the wall, looked over her shoulder to see Richard's smirking face.

  Richard was dressed in fine new clothes, from his shiny leather boots to his ruffled shirt, under a brand new ship captain's coat, violin strapped to his back. The Bronzeband was not visible, but Emily knew it must be under his sleeve, from the way he produced pyful waves in the rock around his feet. She gred at him for a few seconds before turning back to the wall.

  "This is just like old times!" Richard announced cheerfully. He leaned closer into the bars, his eyes lingering on Emily's mostly bare back. "A bit drafty, isn't it? Perhaps I could use my... recovered artifact... to seal up some of those cracks for you."

  In the adjacent cell, Dorian made a low growling noise.

  "I want nothing from you," Emily said darkly, practically spitting venom with her words.

  "I'll pretend I didn't hear that," said Richard. "Only a fool spurns an offer without hearing it first. And you, Emily, are no fool."

  "Leave her," snarled Dorian.

  Richard cast a withering gnce at the adjacent cell. "Shut up, boy. Do not interfere in business that does not concern you."

  An arm shot out between the bars of Dorian's cell and grabbed at Richard's sleeve, it was slightly too far to reach. Richard chuckled darkly and turned his attention to Dorian. There was a loud crack as part of the stonework of the cell wall dislodged, and then a pained cry. The arm slumped down.

  "Dorian!" Emily shouted, rushing to the bars of her cell to see what had happened.

  "He's fine," Richard said, giving Dorian's hand a vicious kick. "But if he interferes again, he won't be."

  From the other cell, Dorian could only groan in pain.

  "Now, onto business," Richard said, fixing eye contact with Emily. "As you know, I'm really quite fond of you, dear Emily. And I've seen what Tiedavon does to thieves. I'd just hate for that terrible fate to befall you. So, I've come to free you."

  Emily's eyes widened.

  "Now you might ask, and I'm sure you will ask, as we both know you're an intelligent girl... you might ask what I expect in exchange. There's no use pretending I do this out of the kindness of my heart... after all, you did try to cheat me on the clifftop. Don't think I've forgotten that."

  Emily looked away briefly, her posture shrinking. She didn't think of herself as a cheat, but he wasn't wrong. It was difficult not to feel shame, standing behind iron bars, essentially naked, before a cunning and powerful man like Richard, and he knew it.

  "All I want is the same thing I asked for on the Sea Serpent—your hand," Richard continued, making a show of kneeling down on one knee. "Don't look so surprised! I'm sure we can work out our differences. All lovers have their quarrels, you know." He cast a dirty gnce at Dorian's cell. "From the way your friend had to hide behind that bush, pying with sticks, no magic of his own to speak of, I take it that the position of Stoneshell Bearer's husband has not yet been filled."

  Emily's face turned fully red and she shrank down into a fetal position. In the other cell, Dorian appeared to be having a coughing fit.

  "There's the small matter of recovering the Stoneshell, of course, but I don't think that will be a problem. Just say yes, and I'll fetch it at once. These monks will trust me with anything. At least until I break out the prisoner they believe to be responsible for the greatest threat to their order in millennia. But I'm willing to sacrifice that for you, dear Emily. You have only to say the word."

  Emily remained curled tight, her face pressed against her knees, the rough stone cold beneath her skin. Richard's words hung in the air. Somehow the proposal felt even more shockingly inappropriate the second time. She had no doubt of his intentions—he wanted to possess her, but more than that, to possess the Stoneshell through her.

  Dorian's coughing subsided into ragged breaths. Emily could picture him slumped against the wall, rubbing his head, listening helplessly. The thought fueled a resurgence of defiance, burning through the shame that Richard had so expertly kindled.

  Slowly, deliberately, Emily uncurled herself. She pushed her tangled hair back from her face and lifted her chin, meeting Richard’s expectant, smiling gaze through the bars. Her blush had faded, repced by a cold, hard gre. She kept her knees up, holding a position of dignity as well as retive modesty, focusing on her anger to the exclusion of other emotions.

  "You think," she began, her voice low and trembling, "after you maniputed the monks, attacked Dorian, stole back the Bronzeband I won from you fairly... you think that after everything, the answer to anything you ask would be 'yes'?"

  Richard's smile faltered slightly, repced by a look of mild surprise, then sourness. "Ah, Emily. Still so fiery, even in reduced circumstances. It's one of the many things I admire about you. But think rationally for a moment, my dear. What other options do you have?" He gestured expansively around her tiny, miserable cell. "Wait for the Council? You heard the names Kastor called you. They'll feed you to the giant crabs, or chain you to a rock at low tide as an offering. And I certainly won't be arguing your case."

  Emily involuntarily sucked in a breath, and Richard's smile widened. He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Instead of all that, why not accept my generous offer? Compromise those delicate sensibilities, just a little. In return? Freedom. The Stoneshell returned to your lovely neck. Perhaps... perhaps I could even arrange a vial of Azure Essence. Just like we agreed before."

  "Don't listen to him!" Dorian shouted from the other cell. His voice was strained, tight with pain, but clear. "He's no good! Don't even consider it!"

  Richard shot a venomous look towards Dorian's cell but didn't move to strike him again. "Your 'friend' offers empty defiance, bravado without backing," Richard sneered, turning back to Emily. "I offer a solution. I heard you telling Kastor all about your little mission on the clifftop. Well, the solstice approaches. Your stone friends remain frozen, and you can't help them from inside that cell. Time is running out. Say yes. Let me help you."

  The way he had twisted the situation, framing himself as her only hope even as he had been the cause of her plight sickened Emily. How much of this had he pnned in advance?

  But her desperation was real. She had less than two weeks before the summer solstice, but that would matter little if she couldn't get the Azure Essence, or if the monks carried out what Richard had threatened. She thought of Aria, frozen in pce, probably hunched over a book in her Paja Abbey chamber.

  Could she pretend? Could she feign agreement, trick him somehow, use him to get free and retrieve the Stoneshell back? The thought felt slimy, treacherous. The st time she'd tried to get one over on Richard... well, she'd ended up here. Could she really win at his game?

  "I need..." Emily began, stalling, forcing the words out. "I need time. To think."

  Richard studied her face, his eyes shrewd, assessing her hesitation. He seemed to weigh her request. Finally, he gave a small, magnanimous shrug. "Very well. But time is limited." He straightened up, adjusting the fine cuffs of his shirt. "The Council will convene soon after dawn. I suggest you have your answer for me before then. I shall return soon."

  He paused, letting his gaze drift deliberately over Emily's huddled form one st time before turning away. "Do try to stay warm, dearest," he added with mock solicitude.