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After all that Lord Tanen had done to her, after all that she had seen in her time with the Shadows, she wondered whether she could ever be whole. Lin Vo, in the time they'd spent alone together in the Arami's tent, had told her that she was like a bird who'd lived all her life with clipped wings. She was capable of flying higher and farther than other birds. She was capable of seeing so deeply into the heart that if Lord Tanen had nourished her rather than hobbled her, she might have ascended beyond what she was.

Sela had no idea what Lin Vo meant by "ascended," but it brought back memories of childhood. Memories of a feeling of wholeness, of a knowledge of things that now baffled her. It was something akin to what Ironfoot and Faella were now discussing. Seeing beyond. Seeing through. When she was a child she had known bliss.

And then Lord Tanen had come and taken that bliss away from her and turned her into a monster. That word "ascended" also reminded her of the thing in her that she'd showed to Lord Tanen and the crones, to the doctor at Lord Everess's apartment, and to the Bel Zheret in Elenth.

She'd asked Lin Vo whether she could ever be whole again.

"No," Lin Vo had said sadly. "Not in this life. You will never know bliss. But you may find a way to live."

She heard Silverdun grunt and Hy Pezho swear. She looked but couldn't see them anymore.

Ironfoot and Faella had reached some sort of understanding. Something flowed out of Faella, something that Sela could neither see nor comprehend, and everything began to change. Pain leapt up at her from the floor, a hot wind of re blowing up from beneath her.

Caught off guard, she lost the threads with Ironfoot and Faella, but it didn't matter. Faella already had what she needed. She was in rapt concentration. All around her, the floor was turning dark, becoming iron.

Unfortunately, Faella and Ironfoot appeared to have forgotten that they were now standing on it.

There was a violent crash, then a series of smaller concussions that reverberated in the chamber. Sela swayed and fell, scorching her palms on the now-iron floor. A chunk of cobalt landed on the floor next to her and she leapt onto it. Ironfoot was with her.

"Faella!" he shouted. "A little help for the rest of us!"

"Sorry!" said Faella. She waved backward toward them, and a disc of pure silver flew from her palm and slipped beneath their feet. It rose up into the air and the pain withdrew.

Sela looked up and gasped. One of the bound gods, Ein, was bound no more. He was sitting up, stretching. He was impossibly large. Sitting up on the platform, his fiery red hair nearly brushed the ceiling. He looked around at the scene below him.

"What is this?" his voice boomed. So loud that Sela covered her ears. "Awake, brothers and sisters!" he shouted, even louder. "Awake! Our bonds are broken at last!"

"No!" shouted Faella. Sela could feel the re in the room swirl, faster and faster. Whatever Faella was doing, it was stirring the essence into a frenzy.

Sela looked around. "Where's Silverdun?" she said.

"I don't know," said Ironfoot, holding on to her. "As soon as Faella's finished I'll go find him."

"It's working!" shouted Faella. I got to the bonds before the other gods could move. They're still trapped!"

Ein looked over at her, his eyes glowing. "They might be, little Fae," he shouted. "But I am not." Ein lifted his finger and gestured, and Faella flew backward, halfway across the chamber, slamming into a wall that was now made of pure iron. She screamed.

Silverdun was fading fast. A chunk of Ein's bindings, if that was what it had been, had struck him in the forehead, hard enough to make his head spin. It had given Hy Pezho the advantage he'd needed to pry Silverdun's knife out of his hand. Now Hy Pezho had the knife and was trying to bring it down across Silverdun's neck. Silverdun gripped Hy Pezho's wrist with all his strength, but it wasn't enough.

Silverdun heard Ein's voice rattling in his ears, so loud he couldn't make out the words. He heard Faella shriek in the distance. "Faella!" he shouted. "I'm coming for you!" But there was nothing he could do for her. There was little he could do for himself.

"You have no idea what I went through to survive," hissed Hy Pezho. "You have no idea what I've sacrificed. Only to become Mab's errand boy. I was to have been an emperor. Now I'm a lackey. And a happy lackey at that. She has turned all of my ambition to love."

"I really couldn't care less about your problems," Silverdun managed. "To be honest, I don't really know who you are. To me, you're just some evil bastard who likes to blow things up."

Hy Pezho made no response, but pushed the knife down farther.

Oh, well.

"You! "

Em's voice was so loud that Silverdun thought his eardrums would burst. He looked straight up into Ein's bearded face, his enormous eyes glaring down at him. But Fin wasn't speaking to him. He was speaking to Hy Pezho.

"You are the one who pricked me while I lay helpless! You are the one who taunted me, thinking me asleep!"

Ein leaned down farther, and Silverdun could feel his terrible breath, the heat of a thousand ovens, the stink of death. "I have not slept! I lay in wait, gathering strength bit by bit over eons, waiting for my time. And you, flittering insect, dare to steal from me! From Ein?"

Ein's fist came down hard toward them. Silverdun rolled, flipping Hy Pezho off of him, and the knife clattered to the floor.

But now the floor was of iron, and it burned Silverdun's hands. The pain was white-hot, intense. He lurched for the knife, snatched it from the ground, burning his knuckles anew as he wrapped his fingers around the hilt.

Ein was slow, very slow, but made up for it in strength. His fist connected with the floor in a shattering blow, spilling Silverdun down again. He could barely feel his hands now.

Hy Pezho was next to him. He'd fallen as well, and was now scrabbling to his feet.

Silverdun thought of calling out to him, speaking his name to resume their fight face-to-face, as propriety dictated.

"To hell with that," he muttered. He stabbed Hy Pezho in the back, and the Black Artist fell to the floor, quivering on the iron as it burned his skin.

"Well done," said Silverdun. "But now what?"

Sela had never felt so helpless. She and Ironfoot were standing on the floating silver disc, twenty feet in the air. Ein had stood and was stomping his foot, howling in rage. On the other side of the room, Faella lay writhing, trying to get to her feet, but the iron burned her all over, stealing her ability to use re.

"What do we do, Ironfoot?" she cried.

"I don't know!" he said.

Something glittered in the corner of her eye. A moth fluttered toward her, swaying and dipping crazily. Hy Pezho?

No, not Hy Pezho. Silverdun.

She smiled in spite of herself and cried out.

"Amazing little creation!" Silverdun shouted. "I haven't a clue how to fly it, though!"

He flew toward them, almost collided with the ground, then righted himself and glided toward them. He hit the disc a little too hard, with his midsection, and glanced off of it. The disc shuddered but remained erect. Again Silverdun righted himself and fluttered back, grabbing hold of the disc's edge.

"Where's Faella?" he asked.

Sela pointed.

"Let's go," he said. He squinted in concentration and the wings of the armor flapped violently, pushing them forward, toward where Faella lay.

Ein continued stomping, his footsteps like percussive spellbombs. The literal wrath of Ein was dreadful to behold.

"Apparently, Hy Pezho made himself an enemy," said Silverdun.

They reached Faella, and Silverdun let go of the disc and drifted down to her. He gathered her carefully in his arms and rose, placing her gently on the disc next to Sela.

"Faella, darling," he said, fluttering next to her. "Wake up. You need to get us the hell out of here."