“Wait,” I say. “How are we even going to get into the dungeons? Surely there will be more than three gu—witches—that we’ll need to get past.”
Basil’s yellow eyes light up. “Our cave has a direct tunnel to the dungeons. It’s how we’re able to get our familiars and shifters in so easily.” He begins to turn back to the tree trunk, then looks at Holly. “Do you want to stay here? You still look a little pale.”
Holly shakes her head. “I’m fine.”
“Holly’s always that pale,” Asmo mutters.
Etta jumps when she hears Holly’s name.
“Right then,” Basil says before turning on his heels. “Follow me.”
He crouches down and enters the tree trunk, disappearing from view, just like stepping through a portal. When I follow, I realize the hollowed-out tree trunk is an entrance shrouded in shadows. It opens to a cave with sloped ceilings, reminding me of the hallways in the Bear Court. Wide tunnels cut through walls of packed dirt and clay, branching in all directions and winding through the underground.
“What is this place?” I ask as we pass an archway leading down a dimly lit tunnel.
“You’re inside the underground city of Squall’s End, the central location for the Lower Houses. They don’t have an official court or town to call their home, so they created one,” Etta says from ahead.
The Lower Houses? I look back at Holly. She stares forward, eyes locked on the back of Etta’s head. Not helpful.
“It’s been in development for the last several decades. And it’s remained undetected by the High Houses,” Etta says with a pointed glance in my direction. I mimic locking my lips and throwing away the key.
An entire court living underground. The High Court has no cluethis place exists. Until now. They just risked ruining everything to save their friend.
Basil leads us further, the ground slowly sloping downward.
“How much longer?” Asmo calls to Basil.
“Just around this bend here,” he calls back.
“When we get there,” Etta says, “you must be silent. We cannot give up our advantage. Asmo, can you cloak everyone in darkness? That will keep the guards from noticing our entry and exit point.”
Her familiarity with Asmo pricks at me, but I chide myself. They knew each other before I knew him. Besides, I have no claim on him. I may feel like I do, but we have yet to establish what’s between us. We continue to dance around it, desperate to avoid the actual conversation. Well, maybe it’s just me that’s desperate to avoid defining whatever this is. Doing so would mean adding another person to my list of people that I care about. The list of people that, if anything happened to them, it would undoubtedly break me. And admitting to myself what I feel for Asmo…well, it would be just another name on a list that’s already too long.
Asmo nods. “Just let me know when.”
We turn the corner, and the hallway abruptly stops. I look around for any sign of a door, but there isn’t one. It’s just a dead end.
“Wh—”
Etta glares at me, a finger raised to her thin lips. Asmo shifts slightly in front of me and flares his hands at his side. Basil presses his palm to the cave wall and whispers something under his breath.
My jaw drops. I can’t help it. A portal forms on the wall. A fucking portal on the wall. Well, at least, it resembles one…It swirls with the same darkness. But unlike other portals, I can see through the wall—right into a dark alcove filled with brooms, buckets, and mops stained with something that resembles dried blood. Great.
“Now, Asmo,” Etta whispers.
Darkness descends over us like a blanket. Asmo’s free hand rests on the small of my back and I resist the urge to lean into him, to feel him pressed against me again. Basil goes through the portal and gestures for us to follow.
“Asmo,” Etta whispers. He doesn’t move. “You need to go first to keep us cloaked as we exit,” she urges him.
His hand reluctantly leaves my back, and the darkness follows him as he steps through the portal. I follow behind him, and we walk forward, carefully sidestepping galvanized buckets and stained mops. As we exit the alcove, the only sounds that can be heard are the solitary drips of water coming from the ceiling.
“This way,” Basil whispers as he begins to travel through the dank, freezing tunnel, avoiding puddles of slushy, gray ice.
I’ve only been in this space for minutes and I’m fighting shivering. But this is a different kind of shiver, one that has nothing to do with the temperature. It works its way up my spine as I think about Cally forced to remain in these conditions for weeks. Of the way she laid limply in Asmo’s arms.
We pass abandoned cells as we trek upward, their doors hanging open, revealing dark rooms covered in moss and slick algae. I jump as a noise comes from within one of the cells. I clutch my chest, then drop my hand as a rat scuttles from the shadows. My lip curls in disgust, and it disappears down the tunnel, back to the way we came.
The hallway grows lighter as we travel further, but we remain cloaked in the shadows. Skittering feet approach from down the hall, and I brace myself to see another rat, but it’s just a chipmunk. It launches itself in the air and lands in the palm of Basil’s outstretched hand.
