Ainsel stiffened. Remy brushed his nose across her hair one more time, then opened his arms. She bolted, fleeing past Sarge toward the town. The ground shook again and she bounced into the air, coming down on her toes and still running, her arms out and her hair streaming behind her.

About a hundred yards away from the outermost building, she passed over a silver metal band set in the ground. Light prickled over her skin and, remembering the horrible guns, she threw herself to the ground, knowing as she did so it was useless.

But other than the fading prickles, nothing hurt her. No lightning flashed past her as she rolled on the ground. She came to her feet again and risked a look back.

She’d outdistanced the soldiers by quite a bit. Remy was a wolf again, loping behind them even though she knew he could keep up with her. There was no sign of another monster, but the soldiers were running as hard as they could all the same.

The night seemed thicker. Ainsel could still see clearly all the way past Remy, but beyond was a black fog. The air trembled with a hint of a breeze. Then the black fog coalesced into a solid shape: long and angular, like a knife with blurring leaf-shaped wings. It shot through the sky like an arrow, rapidly catching up with the fleeing soldiers.

“Look out!” Ainsel shouted. “It’s above you!” She stumbled backwards, eyes fixed on the new monster. It had the same fearsome quality as the first one. It was coming for her and it didn’t care who it hurt along the way. But this one was worse. This one was flying, and it was a needle, coming straight for her, to pin her down and stop her from escaping once and for all.

“Where? Point!” cried a distant voice behind her. She didn’t take her eyes off the buzzing monster but she did raise her hand and extend a finger. As it dove for the soldiers, and for Remy, and as Ainsel’s heart climbed into her throat, thunder crashed behind her and a bolt of white fire seared the sky. A river of lightning poured past Ainsel, lifting her hair in passing before it slammed into the gargantuan dragonfly.

She couldn’t see what happened after that, because the light was too much. But the lightning bolt gave the running soldiers a chance to make it over the silver line in the rusty ground.

Remy lagged behind, coming in at a leisurely trot as he watched the sky, his ears swiveled backward. When he crossed the silver line, white sparks flared around him, settling on his fur before fading.

Sarge, who had stopped to catch his breath, said grimly, “Twoshifters,” as if it had been confirmed. The red and white paint on his face had been badly smeared by sweat. “Well, come on.”

“Is the monster dead?” asked Ainsel.

“No, not. Takes more than one hit from the cannon to take down a guardian. But perimeter will hurt it bad. Don’t worry. You got in, clever girl. Now your job is to sit in jail until the Judge comes in.”

Just in time, Remy pressed against Ainsel’s hip, his teeth flashing silently. Sarge gave Remy a wary look and added, “Is not a bad jail. Me, I liked my stay. You can get some sleep. Eat something.”

At that, Remy went from silent snarl to terrifying puppy again, wagging his tail and lolling his tongue out. He even whined.

Sarge laughed and winked. “Dragon may eat you in the morning, but at least it’s on a full stomach, eh?” He gestured and the rest of the soldiers once again fell in around them. But this time their weapons were all held loosely and down, though at least two of them gave Ainsel suspicious looks. She walked in their midst as best she could, looking at the town and trying not to think.

The cannon fired again, the bolt tearing through the sky over their heads. Ainsel flinched, but nobody else, not even Remy, seemed to be bothered by it. The cannon itself, an oversized version of the soldier’s weaponry, was mounted on a ramshackle tower constructed of sheet metal and stone, and it seemed to be the town’s only defense other than the mysterious silver perimeter. As they passed by it, Sarge called up something to the occupants and the same voice that had demanded Ainsel point out the monster dragonfly said, “Good eyes that one. Tell Judge to keep her.”

Beyond the cannon tower a road that was little more than packed rusty earth dotted with crushed monster chitin and bone fragments. More thrown-together buildings, mostly made of dry brick and fossilized chitin, lined the road. Detritus had been swept haphazardly against the building walls, and yellow light blazed from many tall torches.

Many of the buildings had open curtains instead of doors but very few people were within. Ainsel saw one small child peeking out of a high window. But otherwise the only inhabitants she saw sprawled against the building walls, as if too exhausted or depressed to go inside and sleep. There weren’t very many of those, either.

Two very large buildings dominating the skeletal cavern that housed the town. One of them was a fortress, made of stone, with metal patched on like bandages. Silver bands forming intricate loops on the stone walls that remained and where they’d been interrupted by metal, they’d been drawn back in red. The fortress sprawled over the eastern half of the town, its distinct construction poking out through other buildings that seemed like nothing so much as hovels stacked on top of each other.

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The other large building rose even higher than the fortress, with walls that swayed back and forth, and judging from the explosion of human sound from within, it was an arena of some sort.

When they came to an intersection, Sarge glanced wistfully down the road that led to the arena and touched the smeared paint on his face, but turned the other way, toward the fortress. Unlike all the buildings, the fortress had a door. It was as oversized as the fortress and bright silver. It was also open, hanging askew, and completely unguarded.

Sarge and the soldiers guided Ainsel and Remy in, down a broad hall no better kept than the streets outside, and down some stairs. At the bottom, Sarge pulled open another heavy door, and waved them into a large, dim space. “There you go. Judge comes down to see you tomorrow, and also food will come. Spend a good night.”

Ainsel hesitated, staring into the darkness. She’d be locked in. They could forget about her, leave her there forever. She’d never escape.

Remy bumped her hip as he trotted in and Ainsel remembered how the earth had shuddered at her previous panic attack. If she lost herself again, would another ‘guardian’ appear? Would it smash through the walls of the fortress in order to get to her?

Something moved in the darkness beyond Remy and Ainsel furrowed her brow, trying to make out what it was. Then her breath hitched in her chest and she ran into the jail over to the figure huddled in a blanket against the far wall.

“Jim? Jim, what are you doing here?” Ainsel distantly noticed as the jail door swung shut behind her, and then chose to let it go.

Zoë’s father looked toward her blindly. The only light in the jail came in from high barred windows. At night, with only the stars and the yellow torches, there was no expecting any normal human to recognize a face. “Ainsel? Why in God’s name are you here? This terrible nightmare…”

“Somebody you know? He must have fallen through another one of the frays,” commented Remy, crouching on his heels. “I hope they bring that food soon. I hate fighting on an empty stomach.”

Ainsel patted Jim’s face. “Are you hurt? How long have you been here?” It couldn’t have been that long. She’d just been talking to Zoë about her parents yesterday.

Had it only been yesterday? It seemed like so long ago. She’d wanted Zoë to come spend the night with her, so she wouldn’t wander outside alone again, and Zoë had refused. She wanted to stay at home and wait for her parents.

The thought hurt and Ainsel pushed it away without looking at it closely. Hopefully Zoë was safe back in Artemisia. Foolish hope, with Tyler and a bunch of werewolves running around. But better in Artemisia than here, locked in a dark prison in a place where she barely understood their speech.

Jim moaned in lieu of answering Ainsel and curled up in his blanket. “I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.”

Ainsel bit her lip, then pushed her healing magic through her hands, checking Jim for injuries. He was sunburned, exhausted, with lots of bruises and a few cuts, but he didn’t look like he’d had a run-in with a guardian of his own.

She sighed and dropped her hand away. “It’s all right. You should sleep, Jim. You’ll feel better if you sleep.”

He blinked in her direction. “I’m afraid I’ll wake up and this won’t be a dream.” He sounded so sad and pathetic that Ainsel wanted to hug him. But he was still her best friend’s dad and he’d always been awkward around her, so she didn’t.

“You’ll wake up and it won’t be a dream,” said Remy. “But you’ll be hungrier than you are afraid, and once you eat, everything will make more sense. Go to sleep.”

Remy’s voice reached Jim better than Ainsel’s attempts at comfort, maybe because Remy was a stranger. He nodded, and snuggled under his blanket, his breathing deepening almost instantly.

Ainsel touched Jim’s forehead again, sending a light pulse of healing power into him, just enough to speed the healing of his bruises and make his sleep restful. After, she sat back on her heels and looked around.

Despite being dark, the jail was spacious and cleaner than the streets she’d walked along outside. There was a stack of blankets in one corner, and a bucket in another. There was room to stand and stretch, and fresh air came in through the barred windows.

But it was still a jail, and it still had a large metal door with no way to open it from the inside. As the distraction of Jim’s mysterious presence faded, her chest felt tight and breathing became hard.

“Why aren’t you worried about being trapped in here? It can’t just be your stomach talking. Tell me it’s not just because you’re hungry.”

Remy leaned back against the far wall, stretching his long legs out. “I can open frays. If I’m not in the perfect location, it’s pretty random where we’d go, but we’re not stuck here.”

Ainsel’s eyes widened and she leaned toward him. What she wanted to do was leap into his lap and demand he get her out of there right away. The way he spread his hands apart even seemed to invite it. But she didn’t. He was hungry. So was she. They ought to at least eat first. And there was Jim to consider. Whatever they did, she couldn’t leave him behind.

Instead she said, “That’s… quite a power.”

His shoulders rippled in a shrug. “Side effect of being able to close frays naturally. Not that useful because of the curse. Normally.”

“Right… Um. How are you feeling now?”

He smiled, then his smile faded. “I could probably use a boost. My priorities might be a little messed up right now. I was always hungry before, too.”

Ainsel scooted over to him, her face heating up again. Her stomach fluttered in anticipation. But—she ought not to presume. “You said just my hand sent the curse away before, right?”

He watched her approach, his eyes glinting silver in the darkness. “Yes, I did.”

“All right.” She took a deep breath, preparing herself. Then she leaned forward, touching the side of his head and releasing her magic into him.

The madness was stranger than any illness. It retreated before her magic so easily, but it left shadows behind: nightmarish memories she could only barely sense that would linger a long time.

Remy pressed his face against her hand, his gaze fixed on hers. He shifted his head and her palm dragged down to his jaw. Then he put his hand on her own face, his touch butterfly-light. His thumb brushed her lower lip and her heart pounded like it was going to leap out of her chest. Her head felt light enough to drift away, possibly because she’d stopped breathing. She slid her fingers around his head to curl into his hair.

“Hey,” breathed Remy. “I—“

There was a loud clatter from the door, and a voice, far too cheery, called, “Foodtime, shifters!”

Ainsel yanked her wandering hand away from Remy and sprang away. She gasped, catching her breath, then said weakly, “Food. Yay.”

The glint in Remy’s eyes remained as he kept looking at her. The person delivering their meal chattered away, something about buckets and other words she didn’t understand, but Remy’s eyes held her.

At last, as the jailor came to a stop and banged the grate closed again, Remy looked away. “Food,” he agreed. “Let’s eat and get some sleep until this Judge comes. Then we can see if there’s a better way out of here than opening random frays.”