Chapter 39 · Make the Thunder Stop

The second cry rose from the tower’s depths.

It was thin, furious, and unmistakably alive.

Nora stood beneath the black box with one hand pressed against her ribs, feeling the Thunder Crown answer the sound with a pulse of heat. The mark beneath her skin flashed gold, then white. Around her, the chamber trembled. Dust sifted from the vaulted ceiling. Every suspended chain in the execution hall began to swing toward the tower’s central shaft as if pulled by an invisible tide.

Kane turned toward the sound.

For one impossible second, the grief in his face eclipsed everything else—the blood on his collar, the broken restraints hanging from his wrists, the execution sigils burning red across the floor.

Then the city screamed.

Asterfall’s warning bells erupted above them. Not the measured chime of an approaching storm. Not the three-note alarm for a breach in the outer wards. This was a continuous metallic howl, vibrating through bone and tooth.

Beckett shoved himself upright against a pillar. His hand slipped on the blood soaking his coat.