13
“Oh my gods,” Cassie says an hour later, her arms around me as I cry on the floor of her dorm room. “That’s horrible.”
“I know,” I say, wiping my eyes—returned to their rightful shape and color now that Metis’s spell has worn off. “I don’t know what to do.”
Cassie’s mouth goes into a thin line. “Wrong. You know exactly what to do. We have to get the rest of the weapon pieces. You said yourself, you don’t have to kill Mr. Zee. Just get him to step down and agree to let Mavis go.”
I wipe my nose. Everything Cassie says seems to make sense, here in her warm, brightly lit room. The dungeons got to me in the small amount of time I was there, making everything seem bleak, all my choices bad ones.
No wonder Mavis seemed so different. She’s been down there a long time. The whole being tort
