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  But facing it alone sounded worse.

  “Just . . . don’t freak out if I start bawling, okay?” Sophie asked.

  Tam and Linh nodded, and Fitz patted his shoulder. “Ready to cry on if you need it.”

  “What about Dex?” Grady asked.

  The question had a weight to it, pressing on Sophie’s heart as she imagined how furious Dex would be if she left him out.

  But could she watch him relive the horrors—knowing they happened because of her?

  “I think the smaller the group, the better,” she whispered.

  “I agree,” Sandor said. “It will be easier for me to protect you.”

  “You’re going?” Tam asked.

  “I go where Sophie goes.”

  “And I go where he goes,” Grizel said, grabbing Fitz’s arm.

  “But you guys are seven feet tall and gray,” Tam argued.

  Sandor was unmoved. “I went with Sophie to visit her former home.”

  “Yeah, but that street’s almost always empty,” Sophie reminded him. “Paris is one of the humans’ most popular cities. There will be people everywhere, taking pictures and videos. And hilarious as your old-lady disguise was, it was not convincing.”

  “Hang on—old-lady disguise?” Grizel asked, cracking up when Sandor flushed.

  Even Mr. Forkle was smiling as he said, “No disguises should be necessary. We’ll be mostly underground. And I always keep one of these with me for emergencies.”

  He showed them the obscurer hidden in his pocket—a small silver orb that bent light and sound to hide their presence.

  “Some of us won’t need your gadgets,” Grizel said as she moved into the shadow of a nearby tree. She pressed herself against the trunk and held so still, Sophie lost sight of her.

  Sandor coughed something that sounded a whole lot like “show-off” as Mr. Forkle’s Imparter flashed with what must’ve been the equivalent of a text message.

  “The gnomes feel the hideout is empty,” he said. “And they’ve agreed to stay nearby in case we need them. So I suppose this is happening.”

  He pulled a handful of crystals from his pocket and chose one that was pale blue and pear shaped. “I had a permanent crystal cut once I knew the hideout existed.”

  “You don’t think you should change into human clothes before you go?” Grady asked.

  “The gnomes are reporting rain in the city,” Mr. Forkle said. “Which will clear the streets and make our capes appear far more normal should someone somehow spot us beyond the protection of the obscurer. This mission may seem hasty, but I assure you, I would not make it if I foresaw any dangers—no matter how grumpy it might make your daughter.”

  Grady cracked a smile at that, strangling Sophie with a hug before Mr. Forkle removed the hourglass from his pocket and handed it to him.

  “That will last twenty-five minutes,” Mr. Forkle explained.

  “I thought it was ten,” Sophie said.

  “It lasts however long I need it to. Is everyone ready?” He offered Sophie his hand, and she tried not to tremble as Fitz took her other hand and the rest of their group formed a tight circle.

  “I’ll be waiting,” Grady said, holding the hourglass ready to flip.

  Mr. Forkle nodded. “We’ll be back by the final grain of sand.”

  FOURTEEN

  THE DWARVES WERE right about the rain. In fact, “downpour” would’ve been a better word. The fat, sloshy drops fell so fast they blurred the scenery, bouncing off the gravelly ground and soaking Sophie’s group from both above and below.

  She could feel the dirty water seeping through her boots when Linh waved one arm back and forth, twisting the rain into thin, gurgling streams and weaving a weblike bubble around them. She pulled her other arm into her chest, drawing the moisture out of their hair and clothes.

  “Seriously,” Fitz told her. “You’re amazing.”

  Linh’s cheeks flushed a deeper pink. “My ability makes it easy.”

  “I wouldn’t sell yourself short,” Mr. Forkle corrected. “This is remarkable control.”

  “He’s right,” Fitz said, unable to take his eyes off Linh.

  “Shouldn’t we keep moving?” Sophie asked, sounding grumpier than she meant to.

  “We should,” Mr. Forkle said. “Just let me get my bearings.”

  They’d leaped to the edge of some sort of garden, where neat rows of trees led toward an extravagant palace surrounded by flowers and benches and statues and a lake-size fountain. The place was probably a huge tourist trap on a clear day, but for the moment it was empty, save for one couple clinging to their cheap umbrellas as they scurried around looking for better shelter.

  “Relax,” Mr. Forkle said as Sandor and Grizel clutched the handles of their swords. “The obscurer will do its job.”

  Linh kept the rain away as they headed toward a narrow gate in the iron-and-gold fence, but her legs were shaking from the strain by the time they reached a main street.

  “It’s fine,” Tam told her. “Getting wet isn’t going to kill us.”

  “But the water smells like pollution. Besides. If I could hold back a tidal wave in Ravagog, I can hold back a little rain.”

  “I seem to remember us having to carry you while you did that,” Tam reminded her.

  “Well, this time I’ve got it covered.” But she nearly tripped as they ran through the puddled crosswalk.

  “How much longer until we’re there?” Sophie asked as Fitz wrapped his arm around Linh’s waist to keep her steady.

  The city looked familiar—narrow streets, stone buildings with iron balconies, charming cafés with bright awnings, and tiny cars that looked more like toys than actual transportation. But she didn’t recognize anything. No sign of the Eiffel Tower. Or Pont Alexandre III, with its fancy lanterns. She couldn’t even see the Seine.

  “We’re close,” Mr. Forkle promised, ducking down a street that felt more like an alley. Cars were parked right on the sidewalk.

  “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to drive around in these things,” Fitz said.

  “Did you ever ride in one?” Tam asked Sophie.

  “Pretty much every day,” she said.

  “Wow—was it scary?” Linh asked.

  Mr. Forkle said “yes” at the same time Sophie said “no.”

  “You drove?” Sophie asked.

  “Of course not. But occasionally I was unable to avoid being a passenger—and there is nothing quite so terrifying as putting your life in the hands of a distracted human who’s operating a piece of deadly machinery they only marginally understand and can hardly control. It’s a wonder any of them survive the process.”

  A siren blared in the distance, making a different wail than the police cars Sophie was used to hearing, followed by screeching tires and a whole lot of honking.

  “Case in point,” Mr. Forkle told them, turning down an even narrower alley lined with trash cans.

  “Lovely place the Neverseen chose,” Tam grumbled as Mr. Forkle dropped to his knees in front of a gunk-encrusted manhole cover.

  “It gets worse,” Mr. Forkle warned.

  “Is that their symbol?” Fitz pointed to the curved markings etched along the grimy circle of metal—and he was right. The whole pattern was made of the Neverseen’s round eyes.

  “See?” she told Mr. Forkle. “Bet you didn’t notice that last time.”

  “I did not,” Mr. Forkle admitted as he twisted the cover and lifted it free.

  Dread clawed around Sophie’s stomach as she stared at the ladder descending into the darkness. “Wasn’t there an elevator?”

  “They collapsed that tunnel to stop me from coming back. Took me a whole day to find this back entrance—and it’s not a direct access point. We still have a journey underground.”

  “I’ll go first,” Sandor said, already lowering himself onto the ladder. “And I’ll scout the path ahead.”

  “You might want to duck when you’re down there,” Mr. Forkle warned. “I re
member the ceilings being rather low. You’ll also need this.”

  He removed a long necklace and breathed on the crystal pendant, letting the heat reignite the blue balefire dormant inside.

  “Got any more of those?” Fitz asked as Sandor disappeared into the darkness.

  “Unfortunately, no,” Mr. Forkle said. “So hopefully you remember your Exillium training. You covered night vision, right?”

  “Yeah, but I wasn’t good at it,” Fitz mumbled.

  “You were probably overthinking it,” Linh told him. “There’s always some light present. If you make your mind believe that, it will amplify it for you.”

  “Precisely. Trust your mind, not your eyes. And if all else fails, remember that you have other valuable senses to guide you. I’ll see you at the bottom.” Mr. Forkle’s hefty girth barely squeezed into the cramped tunnel as he shuffled down the ladder.

  “I’ll go next,” Tam said, already crouching to reach for the top rung. “Maybe I can thin some of the shadows and make it brighter for you guys.”

  “I should go last,” Grizel decided. “To make sure no one follows.”

  “Then I’ll go next to last, to keep the rain away,” Linh said.

  Which meant it was Sophie or Fitz’s turn.

  “What would be easier for you?” Fitz asked. “I can be a few steps ahead, or right behind you. Either way, I’ll be close.”

  “I’ll go first.”

  She gave herself five deep breaths—wishing they didn’t taste like putrid, rotting trash—before she lowered herself onto the ladder. The metal felt cold and scratchy under her fingers, and she cursed the ruined elevator as she climbed down into the stale darkness.

  Her mind was racing way too fast to focus on her night vision, so all she could see were smudges and vague outlines. But she could hear shaky breaths and scraping shoes and feel the vibration in the ladder, proving she wasn’t alone. She counted the rungs to keep calm, and had just reached number one hundred and thirty-four when her foot touched solid ground.

  “Over here,” Tam said, taking her hand. “The floor’s uneven, so be careful.”

  She still managed to trip. Several times.

  Sandor returned from his sweep of the passage, and his balefire pendant cast a murky blue glow around the cavern, bouncing off the low ceiling and rough stone walls.

  “Where are we?” Fitz asked as he climbed down behind her.

  “I believe the humans call it the Catacombs,” Mr. Forkle told him.

  “I was really hoping you weren’t going to say that,” Sophie mumbled. “You know there are dead bodies down here, right?”

  Linh froze on the ladder. “There are?”

  “Yes, Miss Linh—I stumbled through several of the mass graves the day I found this passage. But they’re quite far away.”

  “Still. Mass graves?” Linh shuffled up a couple of rungs. “Why would humans have something like that?”

  “It’s what happens when you have a species with a very short lifespan,” Mr. Forkle explained. “As I understand it, they ran out of space to bury all of their bodies. So they moved them down to these old mine tunnels. Some of the bones were even arranged into patterns and decoration. Incredibly morbid, but I suppose some would see it as a tribute.”

  “So, how many bodies are we talking about?” Grizel asked as she forced Linh to finally climb down. Linh walked on her tiptoes, like she was afraid of stepping on bones.

  “I remember reading that there were about six million,” Sophie said.

  “SIX MILLION?” Tam’s too-loud voice echoed off the walls. “Sorry. That’s just a lot.”

  “And that’s only the dead from one city, right?” Fitz asked.

  “Also from a specific time period,” Mr. Forkle agreed. “Humans have buried billions of their species throughout the centuries. Their population size was one of the reasons the Ancient Councillors chose to leave the bulk of the world to them—if only they put it to better use. But we can lament their missed opportunities another time.”

  Sandor used the balefire crystal to illuminate a narrow gap in the far wall and motioned for everyone to follow him. They had to walk single file, so they stuck with their same order, and Fitz kept one hand on Sophie’s shoulder in case she tripped.

  She counted her steps, trying to keep her mind distracted. But the memories made her wrists burn with every pulse.

  “Okay,” Mr. Forkle called as she took step one hundred and sixty-four. “Ahead is a series of sharp curves, which will lead to what your eyes will tell you is a dead end. It’s an illusion. There’s a weak spot in the stones for us to slip through.”

  “What do you mean by ‘weak spot’?” Sophie asked, imagining cave-ins.

  “They must’ve had a Fluctuator alter the stones’ density. You’ll understand once you feel them. And try to hurry. This is all taking much longer than I wanted.”

  Sophie’s knotted emotions pulsed with every step as she followed the zigzagging path to what looked like a very solid wall of rock. Tam ran his hands over the stones until he found the right spot—then pushed his arm straight through the wall. Sophie flinched, waiting for the stones to crumble, but somehow everything held strong.

  “You ready for this?” Fitz asked Sophie as Tam shoved the rest of his body through. “If not, I’ll turn back with you.”

  “I’ll go too,” Linh offered.

  “I’m not a fan of this place either,” Grizel said. “I could bring you back to the surface while the others search.”

  Sophie was tempted to take them up on it.

  Very tempted.

  But . . . she had to face this.

  Before she could change her mind, she aimed for the same patch in the wall she’d seen Tam use and shoved her shoulder through the rocks.

  FIFTEEN

  SOPHIE COULD FEEL the stones roll across her skin—kind of like walking through one of those ball enclosures she used to play in as a kid. And when she emerged on the other side, it felt like she’d stepped into another world.

  Gone were the rough walls and low ceilings. The hallway was sleek and metal and bright, lit by thousands of tiny flames of balefire glowing in the glass walls. Fitz stepped through the stones behind her, and Linh and Grizel followed right after.

  “This is the hall you carried us through, isn’t it?” Sophie whispered.

  Mr. Forkle nodded. “Mr. Dizznee was kept over here.”

  His steps echoed off the metal floor as he led them down the hall. Fitz held Sophie’s hand, tightening his grip when Mr. Forkle slid a panel in the wall aside, revealing a small, dusty room.

  A line of thick black bars divided the space in half, but otherwise the room was empty.

  Mr. Forkle pointed to the cage’s far corner, where a black scorch mark on the floor made Sophie shudder. “They’d left him tied up over there. He was lying so painfully still when I saw him, I feared he might be . . .”

  “They burned him when he moved,” Sophie whispered, tears brimming in her eyes. “I can’t believe I had to force you to take him with us.”

  “I wasn’t going to leave him,” Mr. Forkle promised. “I simply thought it would be faster to carry you one at a time. And it would’ve let me hold you a gentler way. You both had raw burns—I was trying to make you as comfortable as possible.”

  When she turned away, his voice filled her mind.

  I can see the doubt in your eyes—and I suppose I deserve it after the times I’ve failed to protect you. But you have to know that I would sooner die than allow harm come to any of you.

  “Everything okay?” Fitz asked.

  Sophie nodded and walked away from Dex’s grim little cell. “Where did you find me?”

  Mr. Forkle sounded like the world’s most depressing tour guide as he asked her to follow him to a room on the opposite side of the hall with no bars, no furniture—just silver walls and a pile of splintered wood. Sweetness swam through the air, or maybe it was Sophie’s mind playing tricks on her as her thoughts fuzzed and her eye
s glazed over.

  “I’ve got you,” Fitz said, holding her steady.

  Tam and Linh took her hands. Even Sandor huddled close, resting a meaty palm on her shoulder.

  “This is it?” Sophie asked. “I wasn’t in a cell?”

  “They had you restrained to a chair.” Mr. Forkle kicked a piece of the jagged wood, revealing thick black cords in the pile.

  Sophie bent to touch the rope, remembering the feel of its thick fibers against her skin. The pieces of wood were heavy and solid. Unrelenting.

  She picked up a piece that looked like the arm of the chair, gasping as she turned it over.

  “Scorch marks,” she whispered.

  The wood slipped from her hand as the nightmares took over.

  You’re safe, Fitz transmitted, filling her mind with a soft thread of warmth. Their thumb rings snapped together as he pulled her gently away from the pile of wood.

  “I told you this would be a bad idea,” Mr. Forkle said, kicking a broken board into the wall.

  “I’m fine,” Sophie promised. “I just . . . need to get out of this room.”

  Fitz helped her wobble back to the hall and she sank to the floor, putting her head between her knees to stop the spinning.

  Want me to carry you out? Fitz offered.

  NO!

  The thought was so loud he jumped.

  Sorry. I . . . I don’t want to be carried out of here again, like some helpless little girl.

  No one would ever call you helpless. But I get what you mean. Is there anything I can do?

  You’re here.

  He tightened his hold on her hands.

  “Are we ready to go?” Mr. Forkle asked.

  Sophie closed her eyes, focusing on tying the threads of panic away with her other emotions. The knot in her chest swelled so huge, it felt like it was pressing on her heart. But after a few slow breaths, she could bear it.

  “There’s still more to the hideout, isn’t there?” she asked.

  “Only the old entrance,” Mr. Forkle said. “But it’s nothing worth seeing. Just an empty room with a collapsed tunnel.”

  “I still think we should check it. We’ve come this far.”

  Fitz helped her to her feet and Sophie was glad to walk on her own. But she was grateful for the hand to hold on to.