Cold water blasted across his face, and Asher woke, coughing and spluttering. His chest heaved as he fought to breathe against it, but his body wouldn’t move. Pain slammed into him hard, his entire body screaming as a thousand aches and cuts and bruises all rushed to the surface at once. Chains chaffed the skin of his wrists, locking his arms tight to a splintered chair. The edges of his vision blurred, making long shadows fuzzy and the already dark room showed no clue to where he was.

‘Is he awake?’ A male voice, deep and familiar.

‘He is now,’ Olive said. The clatter of metal against stone rang out behind him. Asher tried to lift his head, but it was heavy, his neck not strong enough to pull it upright. Boots appeared on the edge of his vision, echoing loud, telling him they were in a large, empty room. Part of him searched for the spirits and the pillars of flame, wondering if he was still in the cave. Perhaps he hadn’t left the strange prison beneath Dalvany. His thoughts were slow to surface, trudging forward as though trapped in a bog.

A rough hand yanked at his hair, ripping it upwards and forcing Asher upright as he hissed in pain. He came face to face with Magnus Barque. The man had a stone gaze, the lines of his anger made sharper by the light from a single candle. He let go of Asher’s hair, and it took a painful effort for Asher to meet his gaze. After a beat of staring each other down, Magnus sighed.

‘I was worried you killed him,’ Olive commented.

‘Are you going to kill me?’ Asher asked.

‘Not yet.’ Magnus raised his hand, and Olive struck Asher hard across the jaw, snapping his head to the side hard enough to make the bone click. Pain radiated through his face.

‘We’ve got a few questions for you,’ Olive said.

‘Where am I?’ Asher struggled to get the words out. His mouth tasted like blood.

‘This isn’t a two way conversation,’ Magnus growled. ‘How did you find our base?’

‘What?’ Asher tried to hold Magnus’ gaze, but his head was still heavy, his vision blurring. Something in the back of his head ached in a way he hadn’t felt before, as if someone had pulled his brain out of his head and replaced it with a brick. There were no windows, no way to tell how long he’d been in that strange place with Hadley.

‘Did someone tell you where to go?’ Magnus asked. ‘I doubt you found this place because you fell into it while you were hiding. Perhaps that little homeless peasant you’ve been sneaking around with? Or do your new friends whisper things in your ear?’

Whisper things… the words echoed in Asher’s head. They thought he was working with the Fienta? Of course, that was all a witch was to the zealous ones. If he didn’t convince them otherwise, this would end with him hanging from a noose.

‘Who. Told. You?’ Magnus pressed each word, then stepped forward until their knees were touching. Olive raised her hand to strike. Asher accepted that either way he was going to be hit. He wasn’t about to give up Penn or Sara.

‘A bird did,’ he said.

The punch came hard, sending stars scattering across his vision. One of his teeth knocked loose, pressing against the inside of his cheek. Asher forced himself to focus through it. ‘Why are you messing with all of this stuff? Why are you doing this?’

‘Answer my question,’ Magnus snapped.

‘I followed the trail,’ Asher said. ‘People have been missing for over a year! And Navarre had notes with the same dates!’

Magnus lip curled. ‘This is my fault, I admit. Chavereau never went astray, and it meant I never questioned his decisions. He said you had history, that you could be controlled. I did not bet on you being more out of control than that little Euthrian brat, but I should have not put so much faith in that man.’

‘He was in charge of this whole thing, wasn’t he?’ Asher’s voice was small. ‘This whole time you all knew what was going on.’

‘If that’s taken you this long to figure it out, you really are an awful investigator,’ Magnus said.

‘You made me think I was mad,’ Asher mumbled.

‘I did no such thing,’ Magnus snapped. ‘I warned you. I told you not to lose yourself to this. And have you? Are you a witch? Working with the very demons that brought all this destruction to your home in the first place?’

‘I don’t work with those monsters,’ Asher said.

‘I don’t want your reasoning,’ Magnus snapped. ‘It’s a yes or no question.’

‘You’ll hang me either way,’ Asher mumbled.

Olive snorted. ‘You’ll hang because you’re a fucking criminal. There’s enough evidence to put you on the Black Scroll at minimum. Attacking two of your fellow guards with magic, doing who knows what else to them, burning the slaughterhouse to summon your little pets, and to top it off, you turned a creature to ash with a gesture and a pouch of sand. Smells like witchcraft to me.’

‘Did all the people you hung do the same?’ Asher asked.

This earned him another punch, this time square in the nose. A dull, horrible pain burst through his sinuses as the bone cracked. Asher coughed as his airways closed up, warm blood running down his lip and jaw.

‘We both know it wasn’t sand in that pouch,’ Magnus said. He reached into his pocket and pulled free the little bag he’d thrown at the Fienta. Asher was surprised to see it was in one piece, and wondered if it was a copy, but the thinnest stream of white mist broke from the top. He held it up in front of Asher. ‘Where did you get this?’

Did he not see it? Asher tried to read the man’s expression, looking for the slightest hint that he registered the bag smoking in his hands, but there was nothing.

‘You don’t know how it works?’ Asher asked him.

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‘You’re in no position to speak down to me,’ Magnus growled. ‘I know it comes from this other place. I know it is toxic to you and yours. Where did you get it? Is there an opening to the Underlands we’re not aware of, or have you been acting in espionage since you came out the first time?’

‘What if I just took it all with me when I came back to Dalvany?’ Asher suggested.

‘If that’s true, then this is your last lot,’ Magnus said. He sighed. ‘What deal did you have to make with those creatures to turn on your own kind?’

‘I don’t work for those things,’ Asher spoke through gritted teeth.

Magnus lashed out suddenly, a slap that aggravated hi already forming bruises. Before he could shake it off, the man’s hand gripped a fistful of Asher’s hair and yanked hard, sending his head back into the chair. Asher hissed in pain, but forced himself to meet Magnus’ gaze.

‘You are no better than a bratty child,’ Magnus growled. ‘We watched you release dozens of those things on the town, and any chaos they reap before the guards find them is on you. How are you so blinded by this loyalty that you do not see that?’

He couldn’t see the spirits. Asher didn’t even know how it was possible, since he saw the Fienta and knew about the Gate. Somehow, even after Hadley explained it, there were still more questions. ‘You’ve been experimenting on the Gate,’ Asher said. ‘You… you were the one keeping them.’

‘Holding them,’ Magnus corrected. ‘We weren’t the ones who tore a hole in the wall between worlds. These creatures are terrorising people, and you witches were the ones carving those holes to bring them here. All you’re accusing me of is cleaning up a mess that you’ve played a part in causing.’

‘How can you know all of this and not even see—’

‘I see just fine,’ Magnus said. ‘I am not about to listen to any supposed hidden agenda. This is about progress. It’s about what has been told for centuries of history, that can’t be ignored. As long as creatures like you drag those things into our world, there is a need to progress the strength of the Kingdom. If we want to remain as we are, we need to understand them.’

‘That’s not what I…’ Asher couldn’t think of anything that could convince the man that all of this was breaking the world apart. There were many worlds and some of them were friendly? Magnus wouldn’t go for that; he was convinced Asher was friends with the enemy. ‘What about the King?’ Asher asked instead. ‘Was making an entire city disappear part of keeping the Kingdom safe and strong?’

Magnus laughed, a harsh and throaty sound. ‘You accuse me of making Valenda disappear? You’re further gone than I believed.’ He turned the pouch over in his hands, unbothered by the mist that passed through his fingers as though it wasn’t there at all. ‘King Thaddae was a coward,’ he said. ‘‘Willing to sit and wait while these creatures infiltrated our ranks, too worried about people seeing him as a monster to let us progress our defences. He looked past all that recorded history because the first King was murdered by his own son. Never mind that the founder was corrupted beyond repair. Things will run smoother now that he’s gone.’

‘With you in charge?’ Asher demanded.

Magnus’ brow furrowed, but he didn’t respond.

‘What about the history that was lost?’ Asher asked. ‘Is it impossible that something got lost in the years?’

‘Now you sound like a Telkite,’ Magnus said. His gaze hardened. ‘That shouldn’t surprise me. Your father was a dear friend of mine. He was respectable. Honourable. A hero. It’s such a waste that none of his influence had a chance to reach you. He would be ashamed to see what you’ve become.’

‘My father is dead,’ Asher muttered. It didn’t matter what legacy he hoped for; Asher had never known enough about him to think about it.

‘This world is lost to see such an honourable man gone in return for a cowardly little witch.’ Magnus glowered, then turned and started pacing across the tiny room. ‘Let’s get back to the purpose of this conversation. Where is your accomplice? The filthy serf boy sneaking around on your behalf. There was a woman with you too. Names. Now.’

Asher bit down on his tongue, the sensation muted by the blood already in his mouth.

‘You can still redeem yourself, Mr Wulverman,’ Magnus said. ‘Release your soul into the sky rather than an eternity in the Underlands.’

‘Why would that be so bad if they’re supposedly my friends?’

The next punch turned his vision black for a second, and the dull, horrible pain was joined with the red smear of his eye swelling shut. ‘You really are a despicable beast,’ Olive growled.

‘You’re the one who can’t tell the difference between a spirit and a mons—oof.’

The next punch filled Asher’s mouth with blood. He spat it out, his head throbbing and filling him with an overwhelming sense of tiredness.

‘Stop with the head, Captain,’ Magnus said. ‘You’ll soon have him talking nonsense.’

‘He already is,’ Olive said.

‘What’s the end goal?’ Asher asked. ‘Why do you keep poking at these things, even though they’re so dangerous?’

Magnus raised an eyebrow in question.

‘You’re going to kill me anyway,’ Asher said.

‘That’s the glorious thing about it,’ Magnus said. ‘Once we figure out how to control that dust, or get in and out without your little friends killing every living thing, there are so many possibilities. This is how science works.’

‘Anything that kills the little fuckers is good enough for me,’ Olive said.

‘If you mess around too much, it’s going to open the Gate,’ Asher said. ‘It’ll kill everyone, and not just in Dalvany. You killed everyone who could have stopped it.’

‘Did we now?’ Magnus asked. ‘Who is going to stop this? You? Are you so special that only you can know the truth? Only you can be our saviour? The situation is contained.’

It wasn’t. At least now Penn could know why he had no warning before his home was destroyed. Except he probably wouldn’t see Penn again. Asher wondered if anyone in history – lost or otherwise – had considered someone intentionally ripping the Gate open.

‘No one is going to save you,’ Asher whispered. ‘All the witches are dead.’

The next slap came from nowhere, making the chair rock dangerously. He couldn’t feel the impact on his face.

‘You were right about trauma to the head,’ Olive said. ‘He’s starting to lose it.’

‘That one was my fault,’ Magnus said. ‘My emotions got the better of me. I just despise witches, I really do. Curses and secrecy and broken rules of nature. All of it fuelled towards a hatred of a more educated class. I will not be made a mockery by one.’

‘This isn’t even about you,’ Asher muttered. He braced for another attack, but it didn’t come. He wished someone would hit him, even if he couldn’t feel it. Otherwise it was final. He was going to die.

‘He’s lost,’ Olive said.

‘Is that your final verdict?’ Magnus asked her.

Olive nodded. ‘You didn’t see the things he did. I saw him command one of the mindless demons himself, I saw him turn night into day, and the explosion in the prison… there’s no hope for him. He’s a witch, there’s no denying that. The question is how we make him disappear.’

Magnus nodded. ‘Then it is done. We won’t make this any more trouble. He’ll hang like the others.’

Asher’s stomach lurched.

‘People still think he’s one of ours,’ Olive said. ‘Part of the guard that is. It might cause a commotion.’

‘He’s a witch; people will need to understand that he’s not human. He was never on our side. Besides, with that brat Adalynn still trying to undermine us, this might put her in her place.’

‘Just… please.’ Asher’s voice was a gasp. ‘Stop doing what you’ve been doing. You have to stop. Please.’

Magnus waved his hand at Olive, and the chains rattled as they fell loose from the chair. She grabbed him roughly by the arm, yanking him so that he slumped forward, almost falling to the floor.

‘You have to stop,’ Asher whispered. He could feel his own desperation dulling, like a flame slowly flickering out. He was going to die. They were going to hang him. The one thing he’d been terrified of happening when all this started was finally becoming reality. If he hung now, what would become of everyone else? Norrah, Sara and Gershwin, Penn…

Penn’s feral scream still echoed in his head. That man would not sit and wait for something to happen. He would tear through all of this if he had a chance, but he also saw himself a failure. Would those anxieties make him hesitate? If Penn thought he wasn’t worth the mantle, what did that make Asher now? A witch for all of five minutes and his life was over.

‘Please,’ Asher whispered. It was all his body would allow him to do. ‘Please, you have to stop.’