My entire body was trembling. The muscles in my arms, my legs, my back were already aching from the exertion it had taken to carry the boy this far. He was still cutting off my circulation, but at least he was no longer shrieking or fighting me.
I dragged us both out of the doorway, finally looking around us. The interior of the tree was far less charming than the one at Laitha’s camp, and there was little more to see than a crude set of stairs disappearing down into the heart of the trunk below.
Movement at the door drew my attention back around. A small girl—the one who’d been riding on Octavian’s back, I think—was pushed inside the tree. When I glanced out, I saw Alastor pull another one of the children up onto the branch beside him. Octavian was down below, lifting them from the other side.
And when all three girls were inside, Alastor ducked in as well, with Octavian close behind him. He pulled the door shut, and though we could still hear the screaming and rumbling outside, it was muted somewhat—like a nightmare trying to find its way in.
Both brothers looked at me before shifting their attention to the children. The littlest girl had already moved toward Octavian again, tentatively grabbing his pant leg, while the two sisters clung to each other, quietly sobbing.
Octavian’s eyes flicked to me. “We need to get down. As quickly as we can.” He leaned down and scooped up the girl with one arm—leaving his sword hand free, I noticed—and moved past me, to the stairs.
I climbed to my feet, the boy still in my arms, and urged the sisters to go in front of me. For a moment, I thought I’d have to give them a nudge to get them moving, but as soon as Alastor stepped toward them—apparently thinking the same thing—they nearly tripped over themselves to get to the steps.
I went next, and Alastor followed.
The stairs were soft in places, the wood slick with moss and mildew. An equally moist rope hung from the wall at hand level, serving as a makeshift rail.
“What is all this?” I asked. I didn’t speak very loud, and yet my voice echoed through the damp, hollow space around us.
“Service stairs, essentially,” Alastor said, his voice just as quiet. “Someone must tend to all the lanterns in the branches, among other things.”
“How did you even know this was here?”
“You never know when such knowledge could be useful,” was his reply.
None of us said another word as we descended, though the children occasionally whimpered—until the tinglingshiveron my skin built once more.
“Another one’s coming!” I shouted at the same time Octavian yelled, “Brace yourselves!”
Everyone grabbed for the rope along the wall as another blast of power hit the tree. Chunks of bark rained down from above as the great trunk shook around us, and outside I could hear yet another loudcrack!and fresh screams of fear and pain.
And then the trunk started to lean.
“Keep going!” Octavian shouted. “Now!”
No one hesitated, not even the young girls. Still gripping the rope, we all descended as quickly as we dared.
As the tree leaned a little more with each passing second.
We’re not going to make it.
Because the stairs went on endlessly, down and down and down. We passed platforms and doors along the way, but none offered us safety. We had to make it to the bottom—and get out of the way before the whole tree fell.
My stomach heaved as the tree gave a lurch, and the boy in my arms began shrieking again. The sisters in front of me cried out and gripped the rope.
“Keep going,” I urged them. “Quickly.”
Octavian was already well ahead, but he paused when he heard my voice, looking back up at us.
The tree lurched again.
The girls screamed, pressing against the wall and each other, petrified. I shifted the boy in my arms, freeing a hand so I could try to pry them away from each other, but that only made them cling tighter.
And then Alastor was beside me, pulling them apart, scooping up one girl under each arm. And he ran.
Because the next lurch of the tree nearly slammed me into the wall. A fresh shower of bark rained down on me.
“Hurry!” Octavian called from below. “We’re almost there!”
