We go up the staircase to the door that Aleesa tells us leads to the inside of the castle. When we approach the top, I realize just how bad my palms are sweating.

“Okay,” Laylen says as he grabs the doorknob. “Everyone be on guard.”

I nod, clutching onto the sword handle, my legs shaking like a fawn learning how to walk. Laylen cracks the door open and withdraws a small knife out of the back pocket of his jeans as he looks out.

Then he lowers the knife and turns to us. “It seems the secret entrance has led us to yet another secret entrance.”

“Really?” I ask as we cautiously step out into a slender hallway. “Are we inside the walls?”

Laylen traces his fingers along the wood paneling. “I think so.”

Aleesa hums quietly behind me as we continue down the hallway. The ceiling is low and the walls are decorated with childish art. I sketch my fingers along the drawings of stick people, houses, flowers. Why do I remember this? Each one gives me a sense of familiarity.

Then suddenly it comes violently rushing back to me, a memory once forgotten, or erased from my mind. Alex and I as children, running up and down the hall, drawing on the walls, laughing, playing. I can almost hear the giggles haunting the hallway now.

“You okay?” Laylen asks me.

I pull my hand away from the wall. “Yeah. Sorry, I was just spacing off.”

He gives me a worried smile, but focuses on the task at hand and keeps walking until we reach the end of the hallway where there’s another door.

“I wonder what’s on the other side.” I say.

“A spare bedroom,” Aleesa says, gazing up at the ceiling.

Laylen presses his ear to the door. “I don’t hear anything…” He grips the doorknob and turns it. “Get ready,” he says, then pushes it open.

It’s a bedroom with a bedframe and a dusty dresser. And chained to one of the stones wall is my mom. She just escaped from being a prisoner a few days ago and it tears at my heart to see her like this. She looks like she’s sleeping, her head slumped over, her shoulders hunched. There is a piece of duct-tape over her mouth and I run up to her and carefully pull it off.

“Mom,” I say, hooking a finger under her chin and tipping her head up. “Can you hear me?”

Her head bobs as she blinks at me, tears staining her cheeks. “Gemma,” she croaks. “Is that you?”

“It’s okay.” I reach for the chain around her wrist. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

She blinks again dazedly and then starts to panic. “You have to go. You have to go now.” She tugs at the chains, causing the skin on her wrist to split open and bleed. “It’s a trap. Gemma, go! GO!”

A chill slithers down my spine as I turn around and see a thick fog crawling across the floor. Ice covers across the walls, the ceiling, and the floor in a split second and the temperature rapidly drops.

“Can you get the chains off her?” I ask Laylen.

He takes hold of one of the chains and bends the links, trying to get the heavy metal to snap apart. But it’s thick and covered with the Death Walker’s ice.

“Give me just a minute,” he says as he continues to try to get the metal to break.

Aleesa lets out a high-pitched scream, covers her ears, and backs into the corner of the room. “Help me!”

I hear the sound of heavy footsteps heading in our direction, one by one. I glance back at Laylen, still struggling to get the chains undone.

“I’m hurrying,” he says, jerking on the chains. “The damn things are thick and the ice is making it worse.”

I face the doorway, where the fog is blowing in. This strange calm settles over me and I block everything out as my power takes over my body and mind, one stronger than I’ve ever felt, like every part of my brain is in tune with my body. Suddenly, I know what I have to do to protect us and the strange thing is I know that I can.

I raise the Sword of Immortality in front of me, the tip aimed at the door. My heart rate slows, steadies, my nerves dissipate. When the first Death Walker enters the room, cloaked and eyes glowing, I swing the sword at it and without missing a beat, stab the blade into its heart. Its yellow eyes fire up as its body drops lifelessly to the floor.

I don’t have time to prepare myself as another one comes barreling. I do a twirl and then the sword jabs into the Death Walker’s heart, again without any mishaps. I do this again and again, the sword sinking through each of their rotting chests. The bodies are piling up as I move like a pro, swinging the sword gracefully, my feet moving harmoniously with it.

But more keep coming and before I know it, the room is filled with Death Walkers. The stench of death is in the air as they circle me, blowing their Chill of Death in my direction but I manage to duck out of the way every time.

Then the crowd parts and Stephan comes walking in, wearing a black cloak. He gazes at the Death Walkers’ bodies all over the floor and then at me. “Well, I see that you’ve changed since the last time I met you,” he says, sounding both annoyed and impressed. He stalks toward me, his boots cracking the icy floors.

I remain where I am, waiting until he’s within sword’s reach before I take a stab at him. But he swats the sword away as if my new inner strength is nothing but a minor problem, insignificant.

“You know, you’re a very hard girl to track down,” he says. “I send a faerie to find you, but he up and disappears. I’d try to find you myself, track you down and come where you are, but that’s impossible right now thanks to the memoria extracto.”

It’s like he’s about to give me the same speech again, like he did in the Wastelands, which has me wondering if he’s oblivious to the fact that he’s captured me once before, branded me with the mark, and tried to get me to murder Alex.

“Finally, I thought to myself, what can I do?” he continues on unknowingly. “How can I get ahold of my star without going to her?” He takes the knife he’s holding and traces the tip along the scar on his cheek, circling around me. “See, the thing is, Gemma, there’s something you don’t understand.” He gives a dramatic pause and then grins. “I always win.”

Yep, stuck on repeat. I check behind me, relieved to find that Laylen has freed my mother from the chains. Aleesa is still curled in the corner, rocking back and forth as she hugs her knees to her chest. I need to get us out of here. Somehow.

“I wouldn’t put so much trust in people.” Stephan says. “You never know what secrets they could be hiding from you. People are great liars, especially when it comes to protecting themselves.”

“And you would be the expert on that, wouldn’t you?” I carry his intimidating gaze with confidence.

He stops in front of me. “I’m not the only one in this room who is an expert at lying.” He looks behind me at my mother on the floor her eyes unexpectedly vacant of emotion. “Should I tell her? Or would you like to, Jocelyn?”

She says nothing and Laylen shifts his weight uneasily. I discretely point at Aleesa, mouthing for Laylen to get a hold of her and get closer to me. I need to foresee us out of here. Now.

“Ask her what’s on her wrist,” Stephan says to me with a wicked grin. “Go ahead. Ask your mother what she’s been hiding from you”

I don’t have to look. I think deep down I already know. “No… there’s no way,” I say in denial.

Laylen bends over and jerks up the sleeve of my mother’s shirt. His eyes widen and I gasp at the triangle outlining by red symbol branded in her flesh on her arm.

I shake my head, refusing to believe what’s right in front of me. “It’s not real…”

“She’s had it forever,” Stephan tells me, pleased. “Sophia, Marco… Didn’t you ever wonder how I got everyone to do what I asked? The only ones I didn’t mark were the ones who couldn’t be marked.” He frowns. “The one’s whose blood is pure from evil.”

I think about Alex. Aislin. Laylen. Myself. Blood pure from evil. I know I can be marked, but what about them. What if one of them is marked?