Rays of light pricked at Claire’s eyelids. She batted a hand across her face, groaning. “It’s too early, Kiera. Close the curtains.” But whatever was shining on her felt too bright to be coming in through the window. She opened her eyes, puzzled by the greyish light of dawn staring down on her. Then it came back in a rush; Rinn dying during a Dream Mage working, Claire escaping Dorran Manor and then … then … it was too much. Claire’s stomach heaved at the memory of the burnt husk of the valley, the pits, the dead exiles and the girl ...

Lotte! Had she survived the night?

Claire turned her head, ignoring the muscle cramps and the hole in her stomach telling her she needed food after all the magic she’d expended and losing what little food she had eaten. Lotte was awake, shifting this way and that in a bid to get comfortable on the hard ground. She was crying. Claire wished her parents were here. They’d know what to do, but since they weren’t, she’d have to do her best.

“It’s OK. I’m not going to leave you,” she managed, though her throat was dry and sore and her tongue too thick.

Through choked sobs, Lotte gave a short laugh. Claire didn’t need to see beneath the soot on her face to sense her derision.

“Hey,” Claire said. “I’m serious.” She made herself sit up, knees tucked to her chin, hands massaging her legs. “I’ll take care of you.”

“Dunno what ‘OK’ is, but yer kind don’t care for mine.”

Claire froze. No matter how hard she tried to suppress her suspicions about her grandfather, they hadn’t been far from the surface since she’d first overhead Eidan’s tale. “Who did this to you?” she made herself ask, dreading the answer she knew was coming.

“Who’d ya think?” Lotte replied bitterly. “I see what yer wearing. I know ya for what y’are. And then there’s yer hair – red like a Dorran fire.”

Claire’s gut twisted. There had to be a misunderstanding. She could imagine her grandfather, Rael and the others attacking these exiles, but conducting mass murderer and throwing children into a pit? That was evil. Besides, what reason did Lord Dorran have to destroy ordinary villages, and all the way to Kelnariat too.

“It wasn’t my grandfather’s men. It can’t have been.”

Lotte snorted, making Claire start. She hadn’t realised she’d revealed her thoughts aloud.

“I saw ’em!”

“But how do you know?” Her voice wobbled. “I mean, are you sure?”

Lotte turned to her properly, blue eyes the colour of a tropical ocean wave and dirty blonde hair framing a small pixie face. “O’ course,” she replied as she sat up. “They was wearing red and black Dorran colours.”

“It can’t have been Grandfather’s men,” Claire said, but her voice had lost any conviction. Lotte didn’t look like she was lying.

“Who’re you?” The girl asked, suspicious now.

“I’m Claire.” She paused for a moment, weighing up what else to say.

“I’m no idiot. Ya said, ‘Grandfather’s men.’ Who exactly is yer grandfather?” Lotte’s eyes turned hard. “Tell the truth.”

“It doesn’t matter. I ran away.” Claire hated that her words caught. “They didn’t want me.”

“It does so matter.” Lotte gripped Claire’s arm, pinching so tight Claire held back a yelp. “We begged ’em to spare us, but they didn’t listen, and yer one of ’em.” She pulled her hand away suddenly, like Claire’s skin had branded her.

“Only half, my father isn’t from here,” Claire protested, “and I didn’t know about this. I swear!”

“Who’s yer grandfather then?” Lotte asked, turning her hand palm upwards and blowing on it where the skin was raw and blistered.

“Lord Dorran,” Claire admitted wearily.

“I s’pose I should thank ya for saving me, but yer’ll have to forgive me for not declaring undying gratitude to the enemy.”

Lotte’s bitterness felt like a knife blade to Claire’s chest. “I’m not the enemy,” she said, trying not to feel hurt. “Seriously.”

“But yer a Dorran and Mam said I should never trust one.”

“Who else can you trust, Lotte? Besides, I pulled you out of the fire!” Claire looked towards the camp. “You must have family and friends? We should check if anyone else survived and then let’s get out of here.” Lord Dorran would know she’d run away by now. They’d have to head east towards the capital. Maybe Lotte knew the way. If she didn’t, Claire had to hope they’d come upon a farmer journeying the same way who would give them a ride. Claire knew it was a weak plan, but she couldn’t think of anything better.

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“We? I ain’t going anywhere with ya.”

“Come on, Lotte.” Claire pressed a hand to her aching forehead. “We’re in this together. You’re the closest thing I’ve got to a friend now – and frankly I’m the closest thing you’ve got to one too. So, we stick together, and maybe we get out of this alive. After all this, you never have to see me again.”

Lotte’s mouth pursed sulkily, but she didn’t reply.

“Suit yourself then.” With a shrug, Claire got to her feet. She trudged towards the perimeter of the camp, even as she knew it was hopeless. Smoke inhalation would have killed any survivors by now if the fires and the blades of the unknown soldiers hadn’t gotten them first. Still, she had to check for survivors just in case, and then she’d get away. She shuddered. If even one person was alive … “Hello?” she called. “Is anyone there?”

Lotte dragged herself to her feet. She wouldn’t meet Claire’s eyes, pacing to the other end of the camp. “Jan? Mam? Da?” she cried.

The pair spent agonizing minutes on their search, but it was no use. The exiles were dead. Claire picked her way back to Lotte, who stared at nothing, collapsed onto her knees. She had to try one last time to convince Lotte to leave with her. Anything less was a death sentence.

“Lotte, I’m sorry you’ve lost your family but—”

“Don’t,” Lotte said.

“But—”

“Just ... don’t.”

With a sigh, Claire sank onto her heels, throat rasping from thirst. They couldn’t stay here, but how to persuade Lotte to trust her? She puzzled for what felt like ages, cold stealing over her despite the sun shining. She glanced at the sky. It was darkening like it was about to storm. Beside her, Lotte muttered something under her breath as wet fog descended. The back of Claire’s neck prickled. “What’s happen—”

Before Claire could scrabble on hands and knees towards Lotte, something formed in the growing mist.

Not something. Someone. No. A lot of someones.

They were almost transparent, long and thin, both male and female, hair tangling in soft silvery skeins. Some knelt by Claire’s head, putting careful spectral fingertips to her lips. Some of them grinned as they touched her cold cheek. They reminded Claire of her dad’s story of wraiths.

Claire tried to bat them away, but the more she struggled, the more they crowded around her. Every time she allowed her gaze to glance upwards, wraiths filled her vision. She felt them like an icy stab to the heart. Her breath cut sharp and shallow. She would die here, and her family would never know.

As her heart constricted, Claire noticed her fingers had turned blue-purple, and her muscles began to ache from the struggle and the cold. The mist was all pervasive. She couldn’t see more than a few centimetres to either side of her.

Then, just like that, the wraiths vanished. Fear slammed through her like a metal fist. Towering over her was something else.

She looked like a queen; tall and slender, deathly pale as the fog. Her silver-frost hair cascaded down her back like liquid, her lips were an impossible cherry-red against her blue-white face and her eyes, all pupil and black, were the strangest eyes Claire had ever seen. Her slender hands reached out for Claire’s own. Claire flinched, shrinking back.

The woman’s mouth curved into an amused smile. Claire gasped. Pointed teeth peaked out as she tilted her head, considering Claire like a cat did a mouse. She made an impatient gesture and hissed, “Get up.”

Claire contemplated refusing, but she didn’t like her chances of survival if she disobeyed. She tried to stand up but her legs wouldn’t obey her. The lady smiled and held out a hand to help. Claire grasped it, finding it surprisingly solid. Once on her feet, she noticed that the lady was gazing beyond Claire.

Lotte! Claire had forgotten all about her. She swung around. The exile stood behind her with arms folded. She didn’t look afraid. “What’s this about?” Claire demanded.

“Ya wanted me to trust ya.” She nodded at the wraith. “Claire says she’s a Dorran, but she wants to help.”

The lady cocked her head to one side. “And do you?”

“Yes, but who are you?” Lord Dorran had never mentioned such a creature in any of his many lectures at dinner.

“She’s the Crian, ruler of the Melinor, and my friend,” Lotte said.

The Crian gripped Claire’s chin with icy hands and pushed it up so Claire looked into her strange eyes. She said nothing, studying Claire’s face. Claire rubbed her cloak over her arms and tried not to flinch at the scrutiny. At last, the Crian nodded. “So, you are Lord Dorran’s granddaughter, and yet you rescued Lotte. Why?”

Something about her seriousness compelled the truth. “I haven’t lived in Kelnarium long and my mother taught me punishing people for what their parents had done was wrong. I argued with Lord Dorran about it. When I ran away and found Lotte’s camp and heard her begging for help, well, I couldn’t leave her.”

“No. You are the child born of two worlds, the one who was to come in our greatest hour of need.”

Claire felt sudden hope warm her veins. She’d run away in despair, certain Dorran House had made a terrible mistake about her importance to Kelnarium, but this spirit was claiming otherwise. She breathed easier. Maybe there was a simple explanation for the Beast’s words and she could go back to her grandfather and everything would come right.

The Crian sighed, looking over Claire’s shoulder to Lotte. “There is no evil in this girl’s heart.”

“Thanks,” Claire whispered, relieved someone believed her. Still, her heart sank. Even if she was able to fulfil the prophecy, her grandfather and Dorran House were murderers. “I don’t know what to do next,” she admitted. “I have to close the Rift before it explodes and takes all of Kelnarium with it but—”

“The Rift is going to explode?” The Crian’s brows shot upwards. “Who told you this, child?”

“Gwenivere and my grandfather,” Claire said. “I thought everyone knew about the latest prophecy. That’s why Marcus and I were summoned.”

“Ha!” Lotte laughed from behind her. “What clap-trap are ya talking now?”

“It’s the truth,” Claire said, staring the Crian down.

The spirit gazed deep into Claire’s eyes. Claire didn’t dare look away.

At last, the Crian broke the stare. “Lotte, there are no lies in this girl’s face or heart. If she says she is to close the Rift and save us, I believe her.”

“Hey, I didn’t call on ya to fawn all over her,” Lotte protested.

“You don’t understand, child. I—” The Crian looked to the sky as though hearing someone speak. Her form shuddered and flickered, and her eyes turned blank. “You must return! Danger! Death!”

Before Claire could say a word, the Crian wrapped the girls in her icy essence and the exiles camp fell away as they rose into the sky.