My feet trip over something large and I nearly fall on top of it, but Søren holds me up.

“What…,” I start, but I trail off when I realize exactly what it is.

Someone will find the guards soon, Søren had said. I’d assumed he’d locked them in a cell, maybe knocked them unconscious. I didn’t think he would have killed his own people, but I’m beginning to wonder if I know him at all.

I swallow down bile and step over one body, then the other. I’ve seen so much death it shouldn’t affect me so deeply anymore, but it does. I push the thought of them out of my mind and quicken my pace to keep up with Søren’s long, fast strides.

“What is your escape plan?” I ask quietly. “It doesn’t involve walking through the palace, does it?”

“Well, it doesn’t involve walking,” he mutters under his breath. “I suppose you have a better one?”

“I have several.”

Voices shout from the right, coming toward us, so the next chance I have I go left, pulling a reluctant Søren after me.

“This will bring us deeper into the dungeons,” he says.

“Which means they won’t look for us here, at least not at first,” I say.

I let go of his hand so that I can feel the wall as we walk, trying to get an idea of where we are. It’s been so long since I explored here with Blaise that I could be mistaken, but I don’t think I am.

I miss the feel of Søren’s hand in mine when it’s gone, but I know he’s still here. I can even hear him breathe in the silence, but as dark as it is, I feel utterly alone. As if he can hear my thoughts, he brings his hand to rest on the small of my back.

I want to shrug him off, but not as badly as I want to keep him near.

“What are you looking for?” he asks.

“A way out,” I tell him, continuing to search. “There’s a hole somewhere, about the size of my pinky, I think. If you press it with a stick, a door opens. It was meant as an escape path if there was ever a riot down here and a guard needed to go for help. This was centuries ago, when Astrean queens still kept prisoners here. I found it when I was exploring as a child, but I doubt the Kaiser knows about it.”

“Where does it go?” he asks.

“It comes to a fork. One way goes to the throne room, the other goes all the way to a cove on the western shore—I would imagine it isn’t far from your ship. It could also be used to get people out if the palace was under siege.”

Ampelio begged my mother to use it when the Kalovaxians attacked, to take me and run until forces could be gathered, but she refused. Queens didn’t run, she insisted. It didn’t matter, in the end. Only moments later, when they were arguing over who would bring me through the tunnel, the Kalovaxians took the harbor.

“Who’s there?” a voice rasps in Astrean from a nearby cell.

“It’s a girl,” another voice says from farther down.

Unlike the man before, they don’t sound like they’re dying. They sound thirsty and I’m sure they’re starving, but they’re still very much alive.

“That’s not just any girl,” a third chimes in, this one female. “That’s the princess.”

“The princess is locked in her golden cage,” one of the men sneers before spitting.

The words bristle, though I can’t blame them for it. It was true enough, once. “The queen is leaving this godsforsaken city, and you should be doing the same,” I say in Astrean, taking the ring of keys from Søren’s hand.

“They’re criminals,” Søren hisses behind me, though I’m sure they can still hear him.

“So are we,” I remind him, holding up the ring of keys. “Which keys are they?”

He hesitates for a second before pointing to one. “It’s the same for all the cell doors. The others go to the outer doors that separate the cells from the rest of the castle.”

I nod, taking the key and sliding it into the first cell’s lock.

“You’re running?” the man in the first cell asks in Astrean as I push the door open and move on to the next one. All the cells smell like urine and feces and vomit, the odor strong enough to make me dizzy.

“Recuperating,” I snap, ignoring my nausea as I push the second door open and move on. “You’re welcome to stay here if you’d rather.”

“Do your allies include the prinkiti?” he asks, spitting the word at Søren. I haven’t heard the term before, but it’s easy to piece together what it means. Roughly translated: little yellow prince. Søren might not know much Astrean, but he can guess it’s an insult and he scowls beside me.

“Today they do,” I reply, glad that Søren can’t understand me. I open the last door and all three step out of their cells tentatively, as if they think I might be here to trap them. With Søren at my side, I can’t blame them for their wariness.

The first man laughs, but it turns into a wheeze. “You really are Ampelio’s daughter,” he says.

The fact that I was the one who killed Ampelio must not have made it all the way down here. If he knew that, he wouldn’t be laughing. Still, the comparison makes pride bloom in my chest.

The man gives a shallow bow. “Guardian Santino, at your service, Your Highness. Guardian Hylla and Guardian Olaric, as well.”

The other two Guardians echo his sentiments, but I’m too surprised to really hear them. Guardians, alive. I thought Ampelio had been the last, but the Kaiser was keeping three prisoner right below my feet. While their names don’t sound familiar, I hardly knew all of them.

“Pleasure,” I say, inclining my head. Despite everything, I can’t help but smile. “I’m surprised the Kaiser didn’t kill you. Foolish of him to leave Guardians alive.”

Hylla gives a snort. “Ah, but why kill us when he can harvest us?” she says, showing me one of her arms, covered in deep cuts, old and new. There are gashes as well, where it looks like her flesh was carved out. “Blood drawn six, seven times a day for his experiments. Skin scraped away. Fingers cut off for the bones.” She shows me a hand that has only her thumb, pointer, and ring finger remaining.

Just as quickly as it came, my smile slides away. Nausea rises in my stomach again, though this time it has nothing to do with the smell. Søren knew about this, I remind myself, and in his silence he approved of it. I want to step away from him, but I can’t. I bury my fractured heart deep in my chest. “You’ll join us?” I ask.

“We need to hurry,” Søren says, and I can hear the irritation in his voice.