“Who?” Her expression presses into sweet confusion.
I shake my head. “Never mind.” It’s possible Sleep separated us. Highly probable, even. Zephyrus deceived him. What punishment will he receive?
“He’s probably nearby,” I whisper, rubbing the chafed skin of my wrists and ankles once the rope slides free. When I check my pockets for the poppies, however, I find them empty. My stomach drops. Sleep must have taken them from me.
It’s disheartening, but I can’t worry about that now: our safety comes first. “We need to find Zephyrus before Sleep returns.”
“My lady, I don’t understand. Who is Zeph—”
“Focus, Thyamine.” I grip her arm, my gaze flat and cold. “My friend is lost. We must find him.”
She hesitates, then dips her chin in understanding. “Should we split up, my lady? We will cover more ground.”
It’s actually a smart idea. I think I may have underestimated her. “I would say yes, but I don’t want either of us getting lost, unable to find the other. Stay close.”
Thyamine’s spectral outline glows white in the dim. The tunnel narrows and widens and twists back on itself as we venture through it, yet before long, we reach a wide room, empty save for Mnemenos rushing through the rock. This chamber branches into two corridors, their entrances marked by archways carved with symbols. The left passage circles back to the previous chamber. The right tunnel leads us to a dead end.
“Let’s go back to where you found me. We’ll try another direction.”
More dead ends and crisscrossing paths eventually lead us to a barred cell, one of many lining this particular tunnel. I lift the roselight higher so its glow brightens the carved interior. Zephyrus, unconscious. His arms and legs aren’t bound as mine were. Perhaps the sleep-inducing plants have a greater effect on him? I can feel sleep tickling the edge of my consciousness, but as long as I focus on the task at hand, I can stave off the urge to close my eyes.
I whisper through the bars, “Zephyrus.”
He doesn’t wake. I sigh.
“My lady, if I may?” And Thyamine steps forward, pulling a small tool from her pocket, which she inserts into the lock. After a few minutes of fiddling, it thunks open.
My mouth parts in astonishment. “How did you do that?” I whisper.
The specter woman frowns. “I am not sure. I suddenly remembered the lock-picking tool in my pocket. I carry it with me often, though I do not know why.”
Not for the first time, I wonder who Thyamine was in her past life, the circumstances that led to her demise.
Pulling open the cell door, I hurry to Zephyrus’ side. If I were of a gentler nature, I’d wake him lightly, gradually. But there’s no time for gentleness. Thyamine gasps as I stab him in the center of his palm with a sharp rock, drawing blood.
The West Wind lurches upright, teeth bared, before I slap my hand over his mouth. “It’s me.” His nails dig into the tendons on the underside of my wrist, and tears spring to my eyes from the pain. I gouge the rock deeper into his palm with a growled, “Let go.”
His hand slackens. He blinks once, slowly. “Wren?” The word is muffled.
“We haven’t much time. Can you stand?”
Three heartbeats pass before he nods, releasing me.
“I don’t know how to get out of here,” I say. Mnemenos could direct us, but I strayed from the river at some point. No longer can I hear the burbling current.
Zephyrus squeezes his eyes shut, rubs at a spot on his forehead. “He knew. Somehow he could sense you near the garden. And then he spoke a word of power, and I went under.” He sighs. “I know the way out. I’m still dizzy though, so I’ll need help.”
Looping my arm around his waist, I help support his weight as we shuffle back to the entrance, Thyamine on our trail.
“Nearly there,” Zephyrus murmurs.
A rumble of power rattles my bones, my teeth.
My head snaps around. The tunnel appears to constrict, and a flash of light reveals the walls are not rock, as I had imagined, but woven with every manner of plant, flower, and grass spilling from the ceiling.
Wait for me, sings the dark.
My heart slows and my limbs shudder, for that voice is my salvation, my eternal rest. I begin to turn, drawn by the promise of refuge, everlasting peace.
