SELENE’S FINAL MOVEThe palace was screaming. That was the only way to describe the sound of stone breaking and people dying. But in the lower vaults, the air was thick and still. Selene stood before the great iron doors of the treasury, her breath coming in short, sharp hitches.

She didn't have her crown on. She had traded it for a heavy wool cloak and a pair of sturdy boots she had stolen from a maid’s quarters. Her fingers fumbled with the heavy ring of keys she had taken from the ...