“What about the Dragon Kings down there?” The Pendray man nodded to the cooling slag. Only hours before, it must’ve been covered by the same endless snow. “They could be trapped, collared, and at the mercy of human guards.”

“I’m not the Giva in this place.” Even wrapped in gear to protect against the cold, Malnefoley’s exposed features were striking. He was as classically handsome as the gods portrayed in Greek art. Symmetry and strong grace. Optimism and light to Tallis’s darkness. “If you want to find an entrance and save what warriors you can, the choice is yours. I’m going to find my cousin and learn what the Asters know.”

With that, he affixed his goggles and sped toward the outpost. Three of the rebels stayed behind, while the rest followed Malnefoley’s snowmobile. It would remain a mystery whether they did so by rational choice or because, even there, Malnefoley was still the Giva.

Tallis revved the machine’s engine and tore through the snow in pursuit.

They closed in on the outpost, which was more like a coliseum of the Tigony’s ancient reign. Made sense. The men and women who fought in the Cages were latter-day gladiators—just as powerful and just as powerless. Playthings of the richest people on the planet.

Playthings of the cartels.

Tallis was a man of sideways steps and measured moves. Riding headlong into any situation was just wrong, and yet he needed to do it. His all-weather suit felt infested with lice and the slithering tails of rats. He wanted to be gone, but he battled his destructive temper and stayed the course.

He would atone for the hell he’d brought down on Nynn. And he would have his revenge against the Sun, who’d convinced him that twenty years of murder was in the service of a higher calling.

Maybe then he might be able to forgive himself.

And there she is.

Nynn of Tigony was trudging through the blinding white, seemingly alone on the endless, icy tundra. Dragon save him, his niece was returning to the laboratory where he’d handed her over to Dr. Aster.

♦   ♦   ♦

Nynn was no more than a quarter mile from the complex when she felt an ominous drone. She slowed. That same droning hummed beneath her feet. Her vision was whitewashed, her lungs burned, and sweat glued the protective layer of silk to her skin. Only that threatening vibration made her stop completely.

Two pairs of snowmobiles roared past her, then circled back in wide symmetrical arcs. She had no weapon other than her gift, although the thought of using it made her breath hitch in short, shallow gasps. Not out of fear. Out of pure fatigue. She could gather and amplify energy, but that process seemed to leave her weaker each time. If the figures on the snowmobiles had weapons, if they were loyal to the Asters, she would need to take her chances.

One skidded to a stop ten feet in front of her. She tensed. Every maneuver Leto had taught her was coiled in her limbs. They could shoot her, or they could fight. She would win if they chose the latter.

The figure lifted his goggles and threw back the hood of his parka. Bright blond hair shone bronze and copper and gold in the fading sunshine. He always had seemed like some creature made of precious, untouchable treasures, with the blue waters of the Aegean reflected in his eyes.

“Mal!”

She catapulted forward so fast she thought she’d knock him from the seat of his snowmobile. But he’d always been strong. Despite disagreements, they caught each other in a flurry of hugs and quick words of explanation.

“Now Leto has gone ahead. We have to go.”

“Who’s Leto?” he asked, frowning.

“He’s . . .” She climbed behind him on the snowmobile and grabbed around her cousin’s waist. “He’s more than I can explain right now. Mal, just ride.”

Three other people fell in line behind their Giva. They made short work of the distance remaining to the arena outpost. Hard to believe she’d fought with such gusto and pride within those high, forbidding walls. Caught in Ulia’s mind trap, she’d wanted to win so that the Asters would be pleased. The bumping speed of the snowmobile over ice only added to her distress.

She concentrated until two thoughts remained. Save Jack. Keep Leto.

Those would be her two most important goals for the rest of her life.

The patter of what sounded like rain arced around them. Sprays of ice shot up from where bullets struck, some ordinary, some glowing with napalm. One of the snowmobile drivers was hit dead center in the chest. Whether man or woman, Nynn would never know. The body swelled green from the inside out where it hit the ground, and would continue to burn until someone used a Dragon-forged sword to end that misery. The vehicle tumbled to a sputtering stop, useless.

Mal grabbed her hands and pulled her tight against his back. They leaned forward so far that Nynn grasped the throttle. She could barely see, could only trust and try to keep them riding straight. Mal balanced, then lifted his arms. The sky shrieked with a crack of lightning. Another. Then another. He gathered them like the stems of flowers, then hurtled them like javelins.

Marble with brick underlay shattered out into the snow. Smoke obscured the damage he’d done. Nynn shuddered against his back as more streaks of lightning cut the deepening afternoon blue.

The machine guns went silent.

Mal took control of the snowmobile, then throttled it to a stop.

The sudden silence was like pain in Nynn’s ears. She was probably speaking too loudly when she asked, “How did you know where to strike?”

Removing his goggles again, Mal nodded toward another driver—a woman who’d removed her helmet. “Indranan. She showed me their minds.”

“And you let her?”

The woman scowled, but Mal lifted his hands. His face had hardened in that way she knew so well. The expression said argument was no option. “You’d rather I guessed? Or turned the building to rubble?”

Her spine stiffened, but she managed to propel her frozen body from the seat. “I remember now, cousin. Everything.”

At least that got to him. He inhaled sharply before his narrow lips softened with obvious regret. The Honorable Giva, unnerved. “I’m glad,” he replied quietly. “Not for your suffering, but because you’ve been freed.”

“I fought to be free.” The others followed as she picked her way through what Mal had destroyed.

Inside, she was hit by a sudden headache as her brain adjusted to the change from cold to pleasant warmth. One intake of breath was followed by a flood of bile at the base of her tongue. Her stomach pitched.

The lab.

She’d been right. Oh, by the Dragon. She was back in hell.

That meant she was only steps away from Jack.

“Prisoners or enemies.” Mal’s voice was authoritative but calm as he spoke to the Indranan woman. “Can you find any?”

She shook her head, then shuddered so hard that Nynn could see it ripple across the thick parka. “There’s another Indranan here. More powerful. The best I can do is keep her distracted.”

Unless the Asters kept another tame Indranan in the complex, Nynn knew it would be Ulia. So many scores to settle, but her thoughts remained focused.

Save Jack. Keep Leto.

A flurry of guards stormed along the two corridors that intersected at the building’s destroyed corner. Another Dragon King in a parka—dark hair tipped with silver, eerily familiar features—shed his winter clothing. Power bunched up the line of his back. “Giva, you take half. Time for those tempers of ours.”

Stunned, Nynn watched the man flare into a full berserker rage. No weapons. No armor. Just the ferocity of a Pendray warrior who held nothing back. He tore through the guards along the left corridor, while Mal strode down the right. Sparks of lightning shot from his fingertips and pulsed from the walls. She followed the berserker—a living tornado—because he was mowing through the guards at a quicker clip than her deliberate cousin.