Prologue UNDER FIRE MOSCOW OCTOBER 15, 1941 Lucinda! The voices reached her in the murky darkness. Come back! Wait! She ignored them, pressing further. Echoes of her name bounced off the shadowy walls of the Announcer, sending licks of heat rippling across her skin. Was that Daniel's voice or Cam's? Arriane's or Gabbe's? Was it Roland pleading that she come back now, or was that Miles? The calls grew harder to discern, until Luce couldn't tell them apart at all: good or evil. Enemy or friend. They should have been easier to separate, but nothing was easy anymore. Everything that had once been black and white now blended into gray. Of course, both sides agreed on one thing: Everyone wanted to pull her out of the Announcer. For her protection, they would claim. No, thanks. Not now. Not after they'd wrecked her parents' backyard, made it into another one of their dusty battlefields. She couldn't think about her parents' faces without wanting to turn back--not like she'd even know how to turn back inside an Announcer, anyway. Besides, it was too late. Cam had tried to kill her. Or what he thought was her. And Miles had saved her, but even that wasn't simple. He'd only been able to throw her reflection