She belted out the next verse to widen the tunnel again, and Sophie had to dry her eyes on her cloak sleeve. The lyrics officially won the prize for Most Depressing Gnomish Song Ever. Now Sophie knew why the legends had warned of embracing the heartache.
Their Exillium skills came in handy, allowing them to see through the darkness and stay cool despite the stuffiness of the tunnel. Sophie channeled energy to her muscles to keep moving steady, but she still battled exhaustion, especially when the tunnel started to slope up.
The longer they walked, the more the roots narrowed, as if the Four Seasons Tree was stretching as far as it could reach. When the roots were no thicker than gossamer threads, Calla announced that the surface was right above them and asked if she should sing open an exit.
“Let me go out first,” Alvar whispered. “I need to figure out where we are. As soon as it’s safe, I’ll come back and get you.”
“I’ll go with you,” Biana offered.
“You should save your energy,” he said. “And I should take the Markchain to cover my scent.”
Sophie removed the silver pendant hanging from her neck and handed it to Alvar. She was still stunned Lady Cadence had agreed to loan it to them.
Tam had thought they shouldn’t bring it, worried the scent canceled his concealment. But Alvar insisted they needed to camouflage their smell as well as their appearance.
Calla sang a deep, low verse, which sounded more ominous than Sophie would’ve liked as the earth nudged open, letting in streams of greenish light.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Alvar said, turning invisible. The only sign that he’d left was the shifting dust as he climbed out of the tunnel, and the rustling of the roots as Calla closed the earth again.
Fitz offered everyone water from a magsidian flask Mr. Forkle had given him, and Keefe guzzled the whole thing. Fortunately, the flask had been carved to draw moisture out of the air and refill itself.
“I wouldn’t drink that,” Linh warned. “There’s something wrong with the water.”
She gathered more and molded it into an orb hovering over her hand. It had a slight greenish glow that turned Sophie’s stomach.
“Sorry guys,” Keefe mumbled. “I would’ve saved some if I’d known.”
“How much do you trust him?” Tam shadow-whispered in Sophie’s ear.
Alvar? she asked.
“Him too. But I’m much more worried about your Empath buddy. He’s hiding something. That’s why he won’t let me take a reading.”
He is, Sophie agreed. But I know what it is.
Keefe probably wouldn’t want her to tell Tam, but it was the kind of secret that couldn’t stay hidden. Keefe’s mom was one of the leaders of the Neverseen.
“What do you mean by ‘was’?”
Sophie did her best to explain the situation. A long silence passed before he asked, “What do you think he’ll do if he finds out his mom is still alive?”
“I know you guys are talking about me,” Keefe said, making Sophie jump. “Care to fill me in?”
“I was asking her why the president of her fan club spends more time styling his hair than the girls do,” Tam told him.
“Dude, you did not just insult the Hair.”
Calla silenced both boys, reminding them that someone on the surface could hear them. After that, the waiting felt endless, especially since Keefe seemed determined to stare a confession out of Sophie. She closed her eyes and counted the seconds slipping away.
Eight hundred and twenty-two passed before Fitz said, “Alvar’s been gone a long time.”
“Do you think something happened to him?” Biana whispered. “I could go out and look.”
“We shouldn’t split up again,” Fitz told her. “If we leave, we all leave together. But let’s give him a few more minutes.”
Another two hundred and thirty-three seconds went by before dust rustled above them. “All clear,” Alvar whispered. “But hurry.”
SIXTY-SEVEN
OKAY, THIS PLACE is way creepier than I thought it would be,” Keefe whispered as they crawled out of the tunnel and into the underground section of Ravagog.
The city was silent, save for a steady low-frequency rumble that felt like an itch under their skin. Glowing green moss coated the dark stone walls, casting sickly light through the enormous cavern beyond. The buildings were carved into the humongous stalagmites and stalactites jutting from the floor and ceiling like sharp, jagged teeth, with tufts of stagnant fog swirling like rancid breath.
“Where are the ogres?” Fitz whispered, scanning the dark windows pressed into the rock.
“We got lucky,” Alvar said, appearing beside him. “This is the working end of the city, and right now it’s naptime. That’s why I waited a few minutes to come get you. They just went down for the count, and should be out for an hour.”
“Ogre naptime?” Dex asked.