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Someone calls out, and I manage to yell back, taking deep lungfuls of frigid air. Every exhalation sends a milky cloud shooting from my shivering lips.

A wooden rowboat with peeling brown paint drifts over and someone tugs us over the side. As soon as we’re both in the boat, I turn the girl on her side to get any water out of her lungs. I feel for her pulse, but my fingers are too numb to be of much help.

Is she breathing? Her chest isn’t moving.

Head spinning, I position her on her back and start compressing her chest like I’ve seen on TV.

After a few minutes, I stop, unsure if what I’m doing is even helping.

Oh, God. I stare up at the stars and try to catch my breath as we near the shore, pieces of ice smacking the hull.

It’s not exactly light outside, but a strange mixture of dusk and moonlight reflects off the snow and brightens the land.

The person rowing—a huge, muscular faun with goat legs covered in white fur and large ram horns protruding from short red hair—hands me a blanket. Wrapping the scratchy wool around my body like a burrito, I sit up in time to see Mack sprinting toward our boat, followed closely by the blond Evermore I nearly brained earlier with my shoes. He’s holding my boots and grinning.

My sprite, on the other hand, is not grinning as she flutters through the air clutching my sweatshirt. It’s too heavy for her tiny wings, and she keeps dipping and weaving in the air, dragging my poor sweatshirt through the snow.

The curses spewing from her lips could fill ten swear jars.

A crowd gathers on the snowy lawn a little way ahead. Beyond that, the academy rises impossibly high, the most beautiful building I’ve ever seen. Carved from white marble, the spires and towers glimmer faintly under the moonlight. Blue and gold orbs of magic pulse from thousands of lanterns that sparkle like the stars above. A flag flies from the middle tower, the silver and blue colors definitely from the Winter Court.

For a moment, a breath, I have the odd feeling that I’ve been here before. Or dreamed about this place. Or read about it, even. In much more detail than that tiny Wikipedia article.

Then the bottom of the boat scrapes on the shore, and I’m dodging the sweatshirt being thrown at my face.

After I slip my sweatshirt and boots on, the blond male Evermore who carried my boots helps me off the boat. I accept his hand, startled by the warmth of his fingers. He grins and I suddenly realize how strikingly handsome he is.

I mean, all the Evermore are unbelievably gorgeous, but he surpasses even the normal Fae standard. In our world, he would be a movie star or a model . . . or both.

He wears the green and gold of the Summer Court, the colors matching his gold-flecked green eyes. His hair, too, is gold, and pulled back in a half-knot that would make any other man look ridiculous. Golden cuffs shaped like ivy wind up his pointed ears, capping the tips.

“Are you okay?” he asks, flashing perfect teeth.

He’s running his hands over my body, an orange-gold light flickering out from his palms and seeping into my flesh. Each pass fills me with delicious heat and dries my clothes. Once he’s done with that, he waves his fingers and creates a bubble of warmth that covers my entire body. , Summer. Desperation will only get you killed.

Thrusting my arm through the bars, I reach around the door and grab the lock. It’s solid, so I can’t break it, and there’s no key to be found . . .

I yank it anyway. A zip of electricity shocks my fingers.

Ow. What the Fae?

I reach for the lock again . . . only to discover it’s somehow been broken.

How did that happen?

Not one to dwell on the unimportant, I smash into the door with my shoulder, popping it open. Mack’s face softens with relief, and then we both grab a lungful of air and dive, swimming toward the closest opening.

Nebulous orbs of gold light our path, revealing a seven-foot wide tunnel. River grass sways at the bottom and tickles my arms. The precious air in our lungs bubbles out of our lips and tinkles faintly in the water.

Because I was forced to exert energy breaking out of the cage—assholes!—my lungs burn and ache almost immediately. Where are the oxygen reeds? Not sure what I’m supposed to be looking for, I follow Mack’s lead, trying super hard not to panic because I’m underwater. Without a plan.

Seconds away from drowning.

Just when my chest feels like it will explode, she points to something nestled in the grass below. Two wooden flute-looking things sit inside a shell. She grabs one and hands me the other. Her dark hair floats around her face like a muddy cloud. Then she brings the reed to her lips and nods for me to do the same.

The moment the reed touches my lips, I drag in oxygen.

I can breathe again. The feeling is wonderful. Clamping the reed between my teeth, I take two more breaths and then we keep going, swimming hard toward a pinpoint of light in the distance.

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