Chapter Three

 

 

 

The first drops of rain splattered them as they walked in silence to the graveyard. In the east corner was the elaborate crypt of Sir Kenton, the famous explorer and revered founder of Kenon.

“What are we doing here?” Conal asked, still sulky about the books.

Brianna drew her sword. “Conal, your great-great-grandfather is about to become the guardian of our Destiny Books,” she said, and levered the black stone slab away.

An insidious whistle drifted on the breeze. Brianna immediately spied Zelig, flanked by four Gomahras, almost at the cemetery gates. Before she could react, Conal and Amon both straightened and turned toward the sound, their eyes already beginning to glaze over.

“No. Cover your ears. Don’t listen,” Brianna shouted as she jumped off the grave and slapped her hands over Amon’s ears. With the sound gone, Amon turned and acknowledged her. He nodded, pulled some bread out of his pocket and mashed it into lumps. With a bit of fiddling, he managed to stuff it into his ears as Brianna removed her hands. It wasn’t perfect, but it was effective. Conal had already plugged his own ears with his fingers. Brianna gave him some fragments of candle wax from the bottom of the temple candle she had in her pocket.

Zelig and the Gomahras advanced. Brianna tried not to panic when she realized they were trapped inside the enclosed cemetery. Amon had his sword drawn. Conal scrabbled up the highest headstone he could get to and pulled out his slingshot. He loaded it with a green stone and let it fly. One of the Gomahras went down with a grunt and a wail. The other three paused. Zelig urged them on.

He beckoned Brianna. “Daughter of Hakon, come.”

Brianna shook her head and backed away, lifting her loaded crossbow. With Zelig immune to her mortal weapons, she aimed at the Gomahra farthest away. The bolt whizzed through the air and hit it in the chest. It squealed and collapsed on the ground, its stubby legs waving in the air.

“Daughter of Hakon, come.”

The compulsion to move forward seeped through her, muddling her concentration as she struggled to load her bow, and driving her feet restlessly on the spot. She glanced around. Amon was slashing and stabbing one of the Gomahras and Conal, still secure on his perch, had competently dispatched another Gomahra with a Tomatite stone.

Zelig halted. Red eyes blazed in the blank darkness of his cowl as his henchmen fell to their assault.

He pointed a bony finger at Brianna. “You are mine, Daughter of Hakon. Mine.”

“Never, Zelig. I will fight you to the end,” Brianna yelled.

The evil Tyban threw back his head and cackled. “Fight me, little one? A half mortal against the great Zelig when the Abrogative Direktorate failed to stop me?” The Tyban laughed and laughed as he turned and rode away, leaving the last Gomahra to die in a puff of orange smoke and a faint cry.

She vaguely felt Conal tugging on her arm.

“Brianna, we have to go now. Get your pack. I’ve put the books in the crypt.”

She struggled to focus. Zelig’s parting words had shattered her confidence that the Abrogative Direktorate would save them.

“Brianna, hey, wake up. We have to go.” Conal begged her to move.

She felt Amon lightly slap her cheeks with cold hands.

“Brianna,” he yelled in her face. “We have to go.”

She managed to drag her mind back to the present and focus her eyes. With a sharp nod she acknowledged him then reached for her pack. It was raining heavily and Brianna was glad because they could melt away into the gray curtain. Not that it mattered, though, because she knew in her heart that Zelig could find her easily if he had a mind to.

Back in the cave, she huddled in her own embrace by the fire Amon was coaxing to life. Conal and Amon watched her as if they were waiting for her to speak. She couldn’t, not right now—not yet. Her thoughts were a chaotic jumble and she hunted through them, desperate to find anything worthwhile to cling to. She felt betrayed by her confidence and bravado that her powerful father would help them.

“Brianna?”

She met Conal’s intent gaze.

“You really are Hakon’s daughter?”

She nodded.

“Zelig was coming to get you—he knows who you are,” Conal whispered, awe and fear making his voice husky.

She nodded again. All too aware of her own vulnerability to any Tyban with stronger magic than her own, she mentally apologized to Tennille for brushing aside her concerns.

“Do you think he was lying?” Conal asked.

“Lying about what?” she responded.

“Beating the Abrogative Direktorate,” Conal said, still whispering.

Brianna glanced from Conal to Amon. They were both waiting for her to give them the answer.

She brushed her bangs off her forehead and straightened her jerkin, needing time to produce an answer. “I don’t know, but the Direktorate has fought and conquered evil for centuries, so why would they suddenly be defeated now by one entity? Something has happened to let Zelig free of the spell that bound him. Maybe the Abrasaxon don’t even know he’s free yet and that’s why they haven’t come.”

“Should we still go, Brianna? To your father?”

“Yes. We can’t stay here. Zelig nearly caught us today and the Abrasaxon are the only ones who can help to rescue our families.”

“But if the Direktorate is destroyed, who is going to help us?” Conal’s words were almost a wail.

Brianna leaned forward and patted his shoulder. “There are other Abrasaxon with strong magic who are not Archons, like Hildegarde. There is nothing we can do here other than get captured.”

“So it’s decided then—tomorrow we begin the journey to the Sacred Mountains to get help,” Amon announced as he slapped a frying pan on the coals.

“Yes. Tomorrow we begin,” Brianna and Conal chorused in unison.

 

* * * *

 

Slimy, rubbery tentacles of Gomahra spit wrapped themselves around her neck and body, trapping her arms at her sides. Her dagger hung useless in her numbed fingers. Round and round they danced, chuckling, eyes gleaming with malicious intent. She twisted and turned, tried to crawl away from her tormentors, all the while screaming for help. Slimy Gomahra arms reached for her…

Brianna gasped as the cold reality of the cave pushed the nightmare away. She curled in on herself trembling and sweaty, her golden plaits around her neck and the grotesque inhabitants of her nightmare still lurking on the edge of reality. Unsure what had woken her, she listened intently, the fear generated by her nightmare still real. By the soft glow of the embers, she could make out the black lumps of her sleeping companions.

It was still raining outside—heavily, with a steady persistent thrum. Slowly she raised herself into a sitting position and peered toward the opening, but except for the sporadic flashes of lightning, she couldn’t see anything in the total blackness of the moonless night. Very quietly she got to her feet and, dragging the cumbersome blanket around her shoulders, she went to the entrance.

The roar of gushing water filled her ears for a split second before a crack of thunder blotted it out. She peered down, blinded by the sudden transition from bright light to heavy darkness. Moments later a brilliant, jagged fork of lightning dove for the ground. It illuminated the whole valley, turning the gray curtain of rain into a million silver drops.

A torrent of swirling brown water raced inches from her toes. Logs, frantically struggling animals and the carcasses of those that had given up torpedoed past. Brianna jumped back with a squeak of alarm. The shallow stream that normally trickled a good five feet from the ledge was almost in the cave. She twisted the blanket protectively around her and hovered in the dark, unable to turn away from the macabre scene that snapped into brilliant focus with each flash.

She flinched at a light touch on her shoulder.

“Looks bad. Does it usually get this high?” Amon asked.

She licked her lips her gaze riveted on the water at her feet. “Never.” The next flash of lightning confirmed what she feared. “I think…it’s still rising.”

He squeezed her arm. “We’d better move the gear.”

A spasm of cold dread rushed through her but quickly melted into fury. The last couple of days had been a rocky, tumbling ride—from gaining a father, losing an identity, a family and a home, to now facing the prospect of drowning without a chance to right any of the wrongs in the world. Damn you, Luna Goddess, for wrecking my life. Enough. She pulled away from Amon and stomped into the cave, determined that he would not see the tears filling her eyes.

By the flickering light of the stoked fire, Brianna and Amon added the few cooking utensils they had used and their blankets to the tops of the packs.

Conal, dragged from a deep sleep, mumbled and groaned as he moved everything else to the very back corner. “It’s not going to come in. It never has,” he mumbled.

Brianna desperately wanted to have the faith Conal did. In all her sixteen moon cycles, water had never entered the cave—not even at the height of the wet cycle or the thaw—but somehow she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was different, and she suspected it was Zelig’s influence.

Brianna still had the two temple candles in her jacket pocket, and she checked her flint. Amon added more wood to the fire, and they retreated to the back of the cave. Conal seared them both with a withering look before he promptly burrowed into his blanket and went back to sleep. Amon wrapped his blanket around his shoulders and tucked the ends under his legs like a tent, and soon his head nodded toward his chest.

Brianna sighed and glared at them both before she closed her eyes. Moments later she was compelled to open them again and peer into the comforting glow of the fire. With the boys asleep she felt dreadfully alone, so she stared into the flames, hoping to hypnotize herself into sleep. Instead she wriggled and squirmed, trying to find a comfortable spot, until her blanket curled around her like a very loving squeeze taraqu squashing its prey. Impatiently she untangled herself and tried again. With her eyes closed, breathing slowly, she counted miniature black tunnel diggers in her mind and willed the night away. All the while the persistent sound of the rain and rushing water throbbed at the back of her mind.

Brianna woke with a start. She blinked, but the darkness remained. Stiff and numb with cold, she lifted herself on one elbow and peered in the general direction of the fire. Nothing, not even a faint red glow of embers. She couldn’t believe it had gone out. Amon had piled it high with enough heavy logs to last until dawn. Pulling her rug closer, she huddled down and shivered with a paralyzing mixture of cold and dread as she stared intently into the blackness.

Tiny pinpoints of light flickered in the darkness. She stared, rubbed her eyes and stared again. They were coming closer. She stiffened and clutched her blanket close to her body as she steadied her breathing and watched the parade in fascination. She shrieked as something with hairy legs scuttled across her hand. She flicked her hand and sent the unknown creature flying into the darkness. She didn’t usually mind wekazas, gezz and elsuda, but in the total darkness, the thought of them crawling on her was unnerving, and it was an effort to fight down the desperate urge to jump up and shake herself.

She fumbled blindly in her pocket for a candle and flint. Her hand trembled so much it took three goes to light the new, tightly rolled wick. Amon and Conal blinked in the feeble light.

“What now, Brianna?” Conal rolled his eyes and scrunched his mouth up in a gesture of impatience.

Then Amon chuckled. “It seems we’re not the only ones with wet feet.”

In two lines that stretched right out of the candle’s feeble glow, thousands of tiny creatures marched relentlessly toward the rear of the cave and disappeared over the rocks into the unknown darkness.

“They won’t eat much—unless they’re as hungry as me,” Conal mumbled, already burrowing back into his blanket.

Brianna shuddered. “Don’t say that. It’s not funny,” she snapped, her level of tolerance for Conal’s wisecracks at zero. She hated dark, enclosed spaces, and with the traumatic events of the last couple of days, she had almost reached her limit of endurance. Reluctant to show weakness in front of the boys, she wrapped her arms around her knees and wished desperately for the night to be over.

“Blow the candle out—you won’t see them in the dark.” There was a tiny hint of a chuckle in Amon’s voice.

She gave him a withering look. He shrugged, totally immune to her displeasure, then huddled down.

“The fire’s out.”

“It’s all right, Brianna. We’ll get more wood for the fire in the morning.”

Not satisfied with Amon’s easy dismissal of her concerns, she sat wide awake and on edge, watching with morbid captivation the constantly changing parade as it passed her by. She didn’t know how long she’d been sitting in uneasy silence, but as she eased her numb backside and stiff legs, she became aware of something much more sinister at the edge of the candle’s dim halo of soft light. She reached out and tapped Amon’s shoulder.

He jumped, already drawing his dagger.

She snatched her hand back. “Amon—it’s me.”

He turned sleep-glazed eyes toward her. “What now, Brianna. Can’t you just sleep?” he growled.

She pointed. With the swift motion of a wet cycle tide, the floodwaters were sweeping toward them.

“Oh, mother of moons,” Amon cursed. “We’ll need to get onto the rocks at the back of the cave.”

Brianna laid the candle on the ledge above her head and grabbed one of the packs, and grunting with the effort, lifted it onto the rocky ledge. Amon snatched up his own pack and hoisted it onto the ledge.

“Right, up you get,” he said, clasping his hands together to form a step for her to scrabble up.

Barely waiting for her to get settled, he handed her the last pack before he went to retrieve the sleeping Conal, the tide already lapping at his feet. Without even bothering to wake him, Amon heaved him over his shoulder and plonked him up beside Brianna. The water swished around Amon’s ankles as Brianna reached down and tugged on his belt so he could haul himself up beside her.

“What’s it with you, warrior? Don’t like to see people sleep?” Conal grumbled as he rubbed his eyes. He wobbled like a baby beginning to sit up as he adjusted to being awake.

Without a word, Brianna lifted the guttering candle stub and was pleased to see Conal’s jaw sag when he realized the shallow lake now covered the cave floor.

“Ummm—well, you’re forgiven, you two, for disturbing me,” he muttered.

Amon settled down beside her as the candle flickered, spluttered and finally died. A heavy, immense blackness blanketed them, extinguishing all feelings of time, place and equilibrium. As if in a vacuum of nothingness they perched precariously on the narrow ledge above the rising water, unsure of what the future held.

Brianna reached into her pocket, but Amon’s hand covered hers.

“Save it for later. We only have that one. We will be all right in the dark,” he said softly.

At first the silence was deafening. Then Brianna became aware of tiny scrabbling and squeaking sounds all around her in the darkness. She hunched herself into a tighter ball, her skin crawling at the thought of their invisible companions. The darkness closed in, suffocating and thick. Brianna tried hard to keep her breathing even as the all too familiar panic rose up to swamp all reason.

She’d told herself it was foolish thousands of times, but the fear was always waiting in a small corner of her brain to rise up and overwhelm her if she was confined. A silly childhood game from years ago had created this whituka in her mind.

She’d been determined to win the game of hide-and-seek. It had been her birthday party, after all. The old trunk in the stables had seemed ideal, but unfortunately, her entrance had unbalanced some badly stacked timber, and when it had fallen she’d been trapped inside. It had taken nearly two days for them to find her and by then she’d been hungry, thirsty and maddened with fear.

Her mother’s gentle ministrations had helped her back to sanity, but she’d never forgotten the sound of her own shrieks, muffled by her crypt, or the thirst, the darkness and the fear of that stifling, enclosed space. She had always been careful never to go too far back in the cave, always keeping the entrance in sight—until now.

The enveloping blackness closed in and Brianna fought down the urge to jump from the ledge and wade through the deepening lake until she could breathe fresh air and see the stars again. Instead she took calming breaths and listened intently to the boys’ constant stirring. It assured her she wasn’t alone, and she managed to fight down the panic. Hugging her knees tightly, she rested her face against them and settled down to wait.

 

* * * *

 

Time had no meaning in the perpetual darkness, but the cramp in her legs and numb bottom were a fair indication that it had been ages. Other than the odd comment, nobody had spoken since retreating to the ledge, each of them occupied with their own thoughts. Both boys had slipped in and out of restless sleep, showing no concern that Brianna remained bolt upright and wide awake.

Brianna tentatively stretched her back and her body protested the movement, stiff and clumsy from the enforced stillness, and as she eased one leg from its cramped position, her foot slipped from the ledge and became immersed in icy water. A tight band of panic clenched at her chest as she stifled a squeal.

“Brianna?” Amon asked.

“I’m lighting the candle, Amon. I need to see,” she blustered.

It took three attempts, but at last the spark flared into life and settled into a steady glow. The shadows receded to the corners of the cave, leaving them in a halo of pale light as they perched on the narrow ledge. Below was a wide lake of black water, the roof of the cave a pale dome barely three feet above the water’s surface.

Conal’s fingers latched viciously onto her arm. “We’re trapped. We’re going to drown,” he wailed before choking into noisy sobs.

All around them tiny creatures fluttered and wriggled as the volume of his sobs increased and filled the enclosed space with echoes that chased themselves around and around the cavern.

Brianna shuddered as she tried to unlatch his fingers. The last thing she needed right now was arrogant, self-assured Conal’s dire predictions and blubbering collapse into terror-filled panic, especially when his imaginings were probably far worse than the real thing.

Her heart seemed to have climbed into her throat. Her words were a mere stuttering whisper. “I suppose we sit it out. We have enough food and plenty of water.”

Amon dipped his hand in the inky water and let diamante drops fall onto the mirror surface. “The water’s still rising.”

Amon’s blunt assessment had Brianna struggling to breathe as her next breath jammed in her throat.

At her choking noise, Amon glared at her “Don’t you start—”

“I’m not starting—”

“You’re scared too, aren’t you, Brianna? Like when you were in that trunk.”

Brianna felt like she’d been hit in the stomach. “Shut up,” she hissed.

Conal retreated, his face pinched and sulky. Amon contemplated Brianna, his eyebrows raised, but she merely shook her head. It wasn’t something she wanted to discuss right now.

Something tickled her hand and she jerked away. She lifted the candle higher, her hand tightening on the smooth coldness of the white wax. The golden glow lit the ledge. To her left was a trailing line of oddly assorted traveling companions—black, hairy wekaza tottering on spindly legs, small golden scorpions with transparent shells, scaly flick-tongues with short stubby tails and gentle black tunnel diggers with myopic eyes that blinked in the unexpected light—while bushy-tailed skerry raks scuttled in and out of the rocks.

The light wavered as Brianna climbed clumsily into a half crouch. Slowly she shuffled after the exodus, careful not to massacre the small creatures. They ignored her, intent on their tasks.

“Where’re you going, Brianna?” Amon queried.

“I’m investigating.”

He’d already cast aside his blanket as he asked, “Investigating what?”

She didn’t have an answer, but checking where the creatures were going was better than sitting waiting to drown. She shuffled forward on her knees while her spare hand reached out to explore the craggy surface of the rock where the creatures were disappearing.

She jumped as something closed over her leg.

“What have you found?” Amon asked, leaning forward to see.

“A crack in the rock face. All those creatures have disappeared in there and aren’t coming back. I don’t think any of them are prone to suicide, so I thought it might be a way out. You know, if the water rises right up…”

Heedless of her intrusion, the creatures continued to stream past. As Brianna felt deeper in the fissure, she fully expected to be bitten by something sheltering in there, but her fingers only found empty space.

“Is it big enough for us?” Amon demanded to know as he pushed up behind her.

Brianna shuffled some small rocks out of the way. “It might be, if we can move some of these bigger rocks.”

“Let me past, Brianna,” Amon suggested.

The water had risen even more and the ledge was now invisible under a shimmering layer. Her legs were icy-cold and stiff from being cramped and still. As she tried to rise, she staggered. Amon offered his hand. She held it tightly, her fingers interlocked with his, in the hope that his tight clasp would ease her fear of tumbling into the black water. Assisted by his strength to stagger into a half-standing position, she squeezed herself back against the rock face. Amon eased past. For a millisecond Brianna felt the warmth of his body pressed against hers. An awareness and warmth she’d never experienced before rushed through her, but before she could recognize or appreciate the sensations, they were gone. As they worked together to dislodge chunks of rock and heave them into the water, Brianna was strangely more aware of Amon than she’d been before.

Conal jiggled up and down on his knees, impatient to help. “Is it big enough?” he asked for the tenth time.

Neither Amon nor Brianna wasted breath answering him.

Brianna eased closer to the opening. “I’m going in.”

Her baggy clothes snagged on the rocks and she scraped her knees as she squeezed through. For a moment, a wave of panic threatened to immobilize her and she struggled to breathe.

Amon steadied her with a hand on her back. “Be careful, Brianna.”

Once on the other side of the cavern wall, the crevice widened out and Brianna was able to almost straighten to her full height. Behind her she could hear muffled thuds as the boys continued to enlarge the opening behind her.

“What’ve you found?” Amon inquired.

His voice passed through the opening and floated from rock wall to rock wall distorted and faint.

“A tunnel. I’m going on.” She lifted the candle higher so it cast a wider, if shakier, light.

Wading now through ankle-deep water, she moved cautiously forward. The roof dipped in places and she narrowly missed cracking her head a couple of times, all the while fighting down the need to turn around and run back to the safety of the boys’ company.

Her heartbeat thudded dully in her breast as her candle guttered and threatened to go out. Alone in the dark and petrified of being trapped, she turned around and hurried back as fast as the candle flame allowed. Her breath came in sharp, painful gasps as panic squeezed her chest.

Amon was already through the opening when she reached it.

“It’s pretty narrow and the roof dips in places, but there’s a cool breeze,” she croaked.

Conal stuck his head through the opening. “Is it a way out? Where does it go? What if it’s a dead end…? What if it doesn’t lead anywhere?” Conal’s voice was rising to a shrill shriek.

Brianna’s barely controlled panic began to increase as Conal quibbled about the tunnel. She wanted to move, be doing something—anything.

“Enough, Conal! We don’t have time for childish hysterics. Pass the packs through,” Amon snarled.

Brianna, grateful Amon’s gruffness had silenced Conal into obedience, dragged her pack on and carefully held her remaining temple candle in front of her. It burned with a ragged flicker but didn’t go out. Brianna felt vaguely comforted by the thought of her mother’s capable hands shaping these candles for use in all the village ceremonies.

Just when she thought her knees would give out under the strain of walking partly crouched, the floor dropped away in a steep slope. The water ran faster, tumbling over scattered boulders, gurgling and splashing as it headed to an unknown destination.

Brianna rounded the next corner and felt her heart miss a beat. She stopped so suddenly Amon crashed into her.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

He grunted and steadied himself. “What’s the matter?” He peered over her shoulder.

She held the candle higher. A huge lake had formed across the tunnel. On the other side, the path rose steeply out of the water and disappeared into blackness.

Conal pushed past and went to stand at the edge of the water. “What now?”

“We cross. The water is rising fast—we don’t have much time before this cavern will fill.”

“Better go then,” Conal said as he slipped off his pack, hoisted it onto his head, and waded in.

Amon followed but Brianna paused to remove her jerkin and wrap it around her head, painfully aware of the need to protect the crackling papers hidden in the inner pocket. Despite the Abrogative Direktorate and her Abrasaxon father failing her expectations, she was determined to search for him the minute they escaped from this. It was more than simply getting his help. She needed to know him so she could know herself. Accepting she could never have her old self back, she could, and would, forge a new one—if, of course, they survived the invasion of Zelig and the Gomahras, and this terrible tunnel.

Icy fingers of water curled around her body as she held her pack and the candle higher. She shuddered as a hooded moon taraqu wriggled in front of her, its body as thick as her arm. It could strike so fast you didn’t even see it coming, and the only warning it ever gave was a flash of its icy blue hood. The venom from one bite would bring an agonizing end in seconds. She stepped sideways, but the deadly taraqu sailed past, intent only on reaching safety.

On the other side, Conal waded out and shook himself vigorously all over before dragging his shaggy hair off his face. As Brianna emerged from the underground lake she shivered in the sudden draft that whistled along the tunnel and quickly pulled on her leather jerkin to ward off the chill. As she felt in the outside pocket for the map the candle went out, leaving them in total darkness.

Brianna reached in front of her. “Amon?”

He took her hand. “I’m here. Where’s Conal?”

Brianna felt him clutching her jerkin. “He’s here.”

An icy draft blew the candle out each time they tried to light it. Brianna flicked the flint again and again, desperate panic making her movements jerky and uncoordinated.

Finally Amon touched her hand. “Leave it. I have some rope, I’ll tie it around my waist and then you tie it around yourselves.”

He passed one end of a thin rope into Brianna’s hands and she tied a loop around her waist before she handed the end into Conal’s hands.

“Are you both secure?”

“Yes,” Brianna replied.

“Give me a minute,” Conal muttered.

Amon and Brianna stood patiently as Conal mumbled and cursed under his breath.

“Okay all done,” he finally said.

They shuffled forward, holding hands.

Brianna heard a thud, similar to a ripe tolufa fruit when it dropped to the ground in a sudden ice cycle frost.

“Ouch!”

“Amon?”

“Keep your head down. The floor’s rising,” he grumbled.

Soon they were on their knees, pushing their packs in front of them. She couldn’t breathe. Rocks scraped at her untidy plaits and loose clothes. A terrifying paralysis began to take hold of Brianna’s limbs.

She pulled on Amon’s leg as she hesitated.

“Come on, Brianna. Don’t stop now,” he urged.

Conal pushed from behind, but her legs wouldn’t move. Hysterical screams built in her lungs, threatening to escape.

“I can’t do this. I can’t move,” she wailed. Her eyes stung with threatening tears as she choked her cries down.

“Brianna, come on, one step at a time.” Amon’s voice was calm but firm.

“You can do it, Bri—” Conal barracked from behind.

“I can’t!”

“Yes, you can,” both boys said loudly in unison.

Brianna shook her head in a hopeless gesture that Amon couldn’t see.

“Move, Brianna.”

Amon’s order was clipped and harsh, but Brianna heard the tremor of anxiety in his voice. She wanted to obey but she couldn’t.

“I’m warning you, Brianna. I will do something very unpleasant to you if you don’t move.”

The tremor was gone. Now his voice was full of angry threat—enough for her to clutch what tiny remnants of sanity remained. With Conal pushing from behind and Amon tugging hard at the rope around her waist, she dragged her knees painfully across the sand. With her head down and her eyes squeezed shut, Brianna tried to ignore the rocks digging into her back as she shuffled forward. She would have frozen again but the boys wouldn’t let her. Their combined effort kept her moving.

“I can see a light!” Amon yelled. His voice buzzed with hope and excitement.

Brianna opened her eyes and saw a pale glow. But the floor continued to rise, eventually forcing them to wriggle painfully forward on their stomachs, their packs almost jamming the space.

Brianna winced as her nails ripped away, and blood from her grazed palms was warm and sticky between her fingers, but with the end in sight her panic had faded to a dull thud of her heart.

Suddenly Amon’s boots disappeared and sunlight poured into the tunnel. Brianna blinked as the glare blinded her, then Amon dragged her upward and she was free. Everything shimmered and swayed and her knees threatened to give way. Her heart danced with excited flips as she gulped in huge lungfuls of fresh air. She observed the overcast sky and the one lone moon riding high above the horizon, and gave thanks for the fresh breeze that caressed her face.

Conal scrabbled up behind her, shielding his eyes from the brightness. “Where are we?” he muttered as he stumbled forward.

Brianna took one more deep, sighing breath and turned to inspect their destination.

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she felt a rush of energy wash over her as she took in the austere furnishings, spell books and paraphernalia for creating spells and potions.

“Exactly where we need to be—Hildegarde’s cave,” she said very quietly.