We are under attack. Will all subjects proceed down to the first floor to receive orders from your Eye Commander. This is not a drill. Repeat. We are under attack. Will all subjects proceed down to the first floor to receive orders from...

I've never seen Solum in such a state of chaos before. The Eyes are all running, making for their respective rooms on the first floor, just as they have been trained to do. A few are screaming, another crying, but they are swiftly silence by the guards. I look at their frightened faces and feel a twinge of pity, and relief too. Relief that I am not one of them.

It's not that the Eyes aren't well-trained. They've been doing this for years, trained to respond to emergency situations. They don't make a sound as they race silently to their posts, but the deadly silence except for the shuffling of feet and the rustling of cloaks hangs heavily on the air. But as far as my seven years of living here has taught me, there has never been a direct attack on Solum before. Not here.

I'm running too, my black cloak flying behind me, Phillip and Niro on either side of me. Niro's face is grimly set, leading us down to the Red Room with perfect efficiency, dodging around the swarming Eyes. Phillip's features are set into a look of concentration, and I realise with shock as I look at his blank face that he's done this before. This is the face of a warrior as he goes into battle, with nothing more in his head except to live. To protect his friends and comrades around him. Turned into nothing more than an animal, with nothing but the thirst for survival raging in his face.

Phillip seems to sense my gaze on him, because he glances at me and takes my hand, obscured by our heavy cloaks. God knows what Crowley will think when he realises what's between us. Niro has already partly accepted our relationship, though that doesn't stop him from shooting death stares at Phillip from across the room when we're training.

"Earth to Lenore," Phil says, waving his hand in front of my face. "Come on, a warrior never loses concentration. What have I taught you?"

I roll my eyes and hurry down the last few steps, where Niro is waiting at the base of the staircase. He beckons to us and squeezes past the massing crowds to the red door. We burst into the Red Room.

"Infinity, Zechariah," Crowley's cool voice says from behind us, and a chill runs up my spine. "You are very nearly late." He stands only feet away, with four guards behind him. As Niro moves forward as if he's approaching a wild cat, he smiles and sits down on the armchair.

Beneath our cloaks, Phillip very carefully detaches his hand from mine.

"The two of you, here," Crowley says, directing us towards the sofa. "And the Eternal Grace..." He squints at Phillip as if he's not sure why he's there, and doesn't bother to finish the sentence. Phillip stiffens, but he has no choice but to remain standing.

"Tell us our assignment and leave us alone," Niro spits out from between his teeth. I'm startled to see that his eyes are filled with violent purple flame. What's he thinking? No one speaks to Crowley like that.

"Watch your tongue, Zechariah," Crowley answers, and his gaze meets Niro's, ice for flame.

"Enough," I say suddenly, surprising even myself. Crowley and Niro break off their stares. "If you don't want the enemy to attack us while you're still bickering over the way people talk to you," I address Crowley, "Solum is dead for sure."

What's left in the room is deathly silence; Niro and Crowley stare at me, shocked at my bravado. I'm startled myself. Only Phillip grins a little, looking perfectly relaxed.

I raise my eyebrows, holding my breath for the blow.

Crowley shrugs and turns away. Slowly, I let out my breath.

"Your assignment, then," he says, his tone suddenly brisk. "The three of you will be moving as a squad through to the outer barriers of Solum. You will be going through the gate and strengthening our outer defences. Once you've got there, report to Dr. Quinn. He'll be organising the defences. And," he says, his eye suddenly turned on Phillip, "from then on Infinity and Zechariah will be acting together, and the Eternal Grace will... have another mission."

A shudder runs through me. I stare at Phillip in horror. His back is rigid with tension.

Crowley rises and walks towards the door, flanked by the guards. "Good luck."

The door shuts, leaving the three of us in the room alone, staring at each other in dumbfounded silence.

~

If I die, I die with grace.

The words that Phillip taught me runs through my head as sweetly as clear water. He had me repeat it over and over until it was branded into my mind, and it runs through my limbs now, strengthening them with remembered strength. I replay it, my mouth forming the words soundlessly, less than a whisper of wind. My feet patter over the ground, the rotted leaves, as I follow Niro, Phillip behind me, my bow clutched in my hand. As soundless as a shadow. Colder than steel. Invisible as a ghost. You are made of no substance, only wind and air, and when you fight you are deadlier than fire.

Our feet rustle over the fallen leaves, dance over the twigs to avoid snapping them. I keep my eyes on Niro's small figure, refusing to look back at Phillip's face.

It'll only make it worse.

"Just up ahead," Niro calls, pointing. I glance up, taking in a tall, drab grey structure made purely of stone and iron. It looks menacing even from a distance, looming right above me, its grey as cold and emotionless as the steely grey sky above.

We run forwards, feet whispering over the ground, approaching the fortress. I can see a heavy iron gate in front of it, completely black. A thick, burly man stands just behind it, an enormous machine gun slung across his shoulders and a frown across his face. Or at least, I think it's a frown. The bottom part of his face is obscured in a thick, brown beard. His hazel eyes survey us critically.

"You're late," he says, in a deep voice.

"Sorry," Niro answers carefully. "Dr. Crowley kept us back a little."

"Not my problem," he answers gruffly. "Get in here."

He eases the gate open, and the three of us slither inside. The gate shuts with a heavy thud behind us. The man pulls us into the shadow of the tall, imposing building.

"Best stay out of sight," he says in a low voice. "Eyes everywhere."

Eyes? What is he talking about?

He yanks a slip a paper from his pocket and glances at it without actually looking. "Zechariah and Infinity, the two of you are posted at the main gate. You're not to move unless you're told to do so. Attack only from long range. Otherwise, do not engage." He glances at my bow, Niro's empty hands. "I take it you two don't have much experience in close-range combat."

Niro snarls, but secretly I'm relieved. I don't feel like killing people up close today.

"Eternal Grace," the man says, and I can hear a hint of impatience in his tone, as if he's bored with all the formalities and long titles. "You'll be staying with me. We'll be out in open battle, but you're not quite allowed to... fight freely yet." His eyes travel over Phillip's scars.

I look at Phil, wide-eyed. He'll be in open conflict. He's a good fighter, that's why they want him out there. Possibly so they can have him killed in the confusion of fighting.

Phillip's face is emotionless.

The man looks at his watch. "I'll see you in fifteen minutes, just outside the gate," he says to Phillip. "You two... get up to the top of the tower. Eyes on everything. I give you permission to fire at will." For a moment, I think I almost see a spark of something in the man's eyes.

"We don't call you lot Eyes for nothing." He walks away.

Almost at once, Phillip seizes me by the wrist and pulls me into the shadow of the building. "Lenore," he whispers.

"Don't." I'm shivering.

"Don't what?"

I look up into the face I have come to love. "Don't say goodbye."

His eyes are smouldering. "I know. Because this won't be goodbye."

I glance aside, unable to look at him. Niro is pacing up and down, looking at the grey walls than surround the tower. He has the grace not to intrude on our private moment.

He clasps my hand. "Lenore, I won't die."

"You can't promise that," I whisper.

"Lenore." He puts his hands on my shoulders. "Remember what I taught you. Be swifter than a deer, quiet as a mouse, sharp-eyed as a hawk, fierce as a panther. They won't stop hunting you. Not unless you become the hunter."

I look up at him, shocked. His fingers tighten on my shoulder.

"I have to go," he says softly.

"Don't." I reach up and hold his hand to my shoulder. "Don't let me go. Phillip, please."

"I'll come back for you," he promises. "Do you understand? I will never leave you, Lenore."

I look into his eyes, and I see nothing but sincerity. I know it is an empty promise, but I can't help it anymore.

"Okay," I answer.

He looks at me, and his hand drifts up to touch my face. "Be careful." He leans in and gently touches his lips to mine. As he does, his hands grasp my cloak and pulls me close.

"Lenore," he whispers, "remember what I taught you. What did I tell you?"

I swallow the lump in my throat.

"If I die, I die with grace," I whispered.

"Good girl," Phillip says with a soft, radiant smile that lights up his face. He touches my cheek. "I love you."

Then he is gone.

~

"Are you okay?" Niro asks me.

We're up on the top of the tower. The wind is strong today, and I yank my hood up around my face. My clothes ripple backwards with the strength of it, the gusts lift them with icy fingertips. Niro doesn't move, his hood pulled down and his cloak flying from his shoulders, wind moving through his already ruffled hair.

I look at him, his softened violet eyes trained anxiously on me, with a hint of resignation. He isn't put off by my relationship with Phillip. I can tell he doesn't approve of it, but with a sting in my chest, I can see how he has let me be myself. Set me free. Letting me live by my own choices. I feel my hood fall back in the gusts of wind, but don't bother to draw it back up. My hair flurries around me like shattered shadow, whips around my face wildly, but I don't care. We stand at the side of the tower, a stone wall that's waist-high surrounds the edge of the landing. There's nothing but open sky above us.

I run my fingers along the wall surrounding us, dragging the time until I have to answer.

"I'm fine," I say quietly. I don't want to take my eyes off those violet eyes, shining like stars in a pale sky. My protector, my friend, the only one I can truly trust. He's been like a father and mother to me. He has been a brother. I can't lose him too.

"Nora," he says, and his violet eyes turn stormy. "Take your wings off. They'll interrupt your sight, especially when you're shooting."

"No." The answer comes more quickly than I expect it to.

"This is war, Nora. Not practice. If you want to stay alive, take them off. You need both eyes today."

I stare at him, hoping to stare him down, but of course I lose the contest. With a sigh, I reluctantly unclip the white wings around my face, stuffing them into a fold of my robe. The cold air stings my cheeks and blows my hair into my eyes. I glare at Niro. "Happy?"

A grin spreads across his face. "Couldn't be more thrilled."

I can't help but smile, too.

Then a man below barks an order. "Into position!"

I pull an arrow from a quiver that Crowley gave me. It's pure silver, but it feels lighter than anything, a comfortable weight against my shoulder. I notch a silver arrow onto my bow. If I die, I die with grace. I glance at Niro. His face is a mask, emotionless, but his eyes flash with memory and something that seems like fear. Rage. Grief.

Reaching out with my free right hand, I take his hand in mine. Whatever happens we will go through it together.

He squeezes my fingers.

"Ready..." he breathes, eyes locked on the single black gate. The men there have positions, looking over the exterior wall, weapons trained on the horizon. I can see a black cloak amongst the white ones. Phillip. A lump rises in my throat, and I quickly swallow it down. Soundless as a shadow. Cold as steel. Invisible as a ghost. I gulp for air. My lungs seem to have shrunk to the size of a chestnut. No substance. I am wind and air. I gasp, my fingers an iron grip on my bow. Fire. I am deadlier than fire.

My breath becomes mist, kissing my own face. It drifts and presses against my skin. The moisture feels cool against my cheek. In my ears, I can hear my blood pounding, my heart thudding against my ribs, like the counting down of a timer on a bomb. The fuse is lit. Fire is spreading.

I am fire.

I remember Phillip's voice, whispering to me out of the months past, the little time we had together, Your power lies in the stars.

I am a hunter in the stars.

I am the fire of the stars.

I am a shadow among the stars.

I look at Niro, standing beside me.

I am stardust.

I wait for the enemy to run out of the darkness ahead of us, towards the tower.

Instead, the sky explodes above me.

~

For a moment, I wonder if I am dead. The world seems to have gone a blinding white before my eyes, and I can't hear a thing. Then I realise it's a ringing in my ears, and my vision dulls to a blank grey slab of concrete before my face. My nose is gushing blood from where it must have struck the floor of the tower.

I feel someone yanking at me, pulling me to my feet. I glance around and see Niro's face, his mouth moving frantically, but I still can't hear anything. He points to the sky.

My eyes fasten on a grey shape in the distance, but it's camouflaged by the dismally painted sky behind it. A round of fire from the Eyes below aim at it, but the bullets skid off the hovering shape like stones bouncing off armour. I run to the side of the tower, see an Eye launch a grenade at the floating craft. It jolts aside to avoid the blast of fire. Whoever is the pilot must be an excellent flier.

"Lenora!" My ears are recovering some use of themselves, I can see Niro behind me. "Don't shoot it, whatever you do," he says, his hands lighting up in purple fire.

I can't believe my ears. Maybe they have been destroyed in the explosion after all. "What?"

"They're friends. Don't shoot."

"But the Eyes - Solum -"

Niro glares at me, rolling his eyes to the sky. "And since when has Solum been a friend to us, Nora? Don't trust anyone here. Let's go."

"Where?" I feel faint.

"We're getting out of here," Niro says.

"Out?" My hands are trembling. I haven't been out of Solum for seven years. This is the only home I remember. I can't leave.

Niro grips my shoulders. "Do you want to stay here, Nora? Forever? This isn't our home. This is only a prison."

A prison?

Niro lets go and grasps my hand. "Come on." He climbs up onto the wall and raises one hand, sending a flare of purple fire into the sky. A signal.

"Niro!"

He looks down at me, and his face softens. He jumps back down and looks at me. "Nora," he says quietly, "there is so much more you don't know about yourself. So much more you have to learn. Are you willing to let that part of your past stay buried forever? To let these walls surround you until the day you die?" He cups my face in one hand. "Or is there something else you're searching for, Lenore Kelandi?"

It's the first time he's called me Lenore. My name lights a flame inside me, burning impatiently, furiously, unable to cease. It searches desperately for oxygen that will allow it to stay aflame. As I look into Niro's violet eyes, now burning as bright as the fire inside my chest, I feel a sudden, inexplicable thirst.

I climb up onto the wall, pulling him along with me.

The hovering shape materialises, suddenly, above us. It's much closer than I thought it was, seeming to blossom out of the sky, one minute nowhere and then suddenly appearing. A ladder drops down, to high for me to reach.

"Get closer!" Niro hollers beside me.

The shape moves down, solidifying from the mist that surrounds it, abandoning the grey skies that is its camouflage. I can hear the Eyes below shouting, see the arrows raining off it. It's a flying craft of some kind, a cross between a round flying disk and a jet. It lowers itself, slowly but steadily, towards us. I reach up, being taller than Niro, trying to grasp the ladder. I touch it with the tips of my fingers, grasp it between my index finger and thumb, and draw it towards me and Niro. I manage to get a firm grasp on it, then swing myself up onto the ladder, trying to get a good footing. Once I do, I reach down for Niro, who's shooting balls of purple fire downwards towards the Eyes. Violet meets green and gold with explosions of sparks. Niro reaches up and grabs my hand. I pull him up beside me.

A bullet whistles past my face, and I flinch. The Eyes below are taking fire.

"Climb!" Niro orders me. I obey, reaching for the next rung and quickly jerking back as a bullet clatters into it, missing my hand by an inch.

"Go!" Niro shouts as he fires a volley of fire down below, making the Eyes scatter. Cautiously, I begin to climb again, slowly at first, then faster. The Eyes are recovering. I stop and look back.

"Don't look down!" Niro yells, as a ball of violet fire explodes from his palm and hurtles downwards. His coffee-coloured skin has gone pale, and I can see the weariness in his face. I scurry up the ladder as quickly as I can, eyes on the trapdoor that gapes from the belly of the aircraft.

I hear a low cry of pain behind me, and against my better judgement I glance back. Niro has lost his footing, hands still grasping the ladder tightly, his feet dangling loose. His left leg is leaking blood, his face strained with exertion. Heart pounding as if to spread the fire in my chest, I can feel the heat leaking into my veins as my hand whips backward to my shoulder, seeking an arrow, and I reach downwards, holding the point of the arrow out to Niro.

"Light it!" I bellow, and Niro looks up, dazed. But his eyes meet mine, and I know he'll understand my meaning.

His hand blazes, alight with flame, and the tip of my arrow catches the violet fire. Wrapping one arm around the ladder, I draw the bowstring to my ear, aim towards the ground.

"Nora!"

I look down, breathing hard. Niro has regained his footing, but he's slumped onto the ladder, his face growing paler and paler as the blood drains out of his leg. His eyes implore me to think again.

"They're not the enemy," he calls, his voice weak. "Not them. Crowley."

The arrow trembles. The tip is alight with Niro's purple fire, but it doesn't burn the arrow. The flame flickers.

"They're not the enemy," Niro repeats.

My hand holding the bowstring shakes, and slowly the tip of the arrow changes direction. Suddenly the blazing arrow is pointed at the heavy iron gate.

"Crowley," Niro says.

A burst of hatred lashes through me at the sound of the name.

I let go of the bowstring.

My silver arrow flies through the air, kindled with Niro's purple flame, whistling with the wind as it dips, swoops, and plunges burning