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He caught his own wrist against his stomach as red light climbed past his elbows. His fingers opened one at a time, then he turned towards me.

His eyes were still grey. His face told me to run.

“Left door.”

The wall swung across the hall. Stellan threw himself backwards, but the command drove him forwards again. Stone closed between us with a crack that shook dust from the ceiling.

His palms struck the other side. “Good. Stay there.”

The door groaned as Adrian’s control pushed him against it.

“You can’t keep him behind stone forever,” Adrian said.

Lenora drew a short blade from her boot.

I kept my attention on Adrian. “I don’t need forever. I need you to move your hand.”

Lenora threw.

Adrian saw the blade. He lifted the heartblood dagger to block it, and the short blade struck black metal with a hard ring.

The throne-room doors slammed shut.

One of the guards shoved a sword into the narrowing gap. Stone closed over the steel and snapped it near the hilt. The broken length skidded across the floor on our side.

Red light vanished from the closed door beside me.

“Stellan?”

“Open it.”

His voice sounded like his again. I put my hand against the wall and pulled. The door opened fast enough to make me jump back.

Stellan came through with his fangs down and murder in his face. He looked at the sealed gateway, then at me.

“You followed the plan.”

“You sound surprised.”

His gaze passed over me, checking for blood or injuries.

“Relieved.” He picked up his sword. “Surprise can wait.”

A blow hit the main doors. The crack Adrian had made spread another inch.

Lenora retrieved her short blade from the floor. A deep cut marked its edge where it had struck the dagger.

“He’ll open them again,” she said. “That bought us minutes.”

The white line around the doors flickered as Adrian drove the dagger back into the join.

“Then we use them.” Stellan looked at the side door. “Bryony needs to know what Harrowmere will do every time she asks.”

“It did what I wanted when you were about to reach me.”

Stellan wiped his bleeding wrist against his trousers. The cut closed, leaving the red restraint visible under his skin.

“Fear made the order clear. We need clear without waiting for terror.”