It sails through the air, the dim light of this place glinting on the copper.
Nothing happens.
Then the button lands on the stone with a distinctclink.
Instantly, four jagged pieces of stone rip from the walls and race toward it, smashing into one another and the button in a clamorous crash.
Each of the shards looks about the length of my forearm and deadly sharp.
“Well, that’s fun,” I say shakily. Nobody laughs.
Venna looks back at me, mouth twisting. “We’re going to have to be quiet, I think. I wondered… well, I assumed it’d be either that or rifting. In some ways, rifting would be easier. I’ll go first—watch me, and do what I do. And once we’re in…”
She hesitates, and I take her meaning. “We won’t be able to talk aloud in there, will we? You think the room attacks in response to noise?”
She nods.
I swallow. Great. Just when our mental communication would have been most helpful, we’re left without it.
It’s lucky Noemi sat in on my sign language lessons on the boat, I realize. She’s picked up some of the basics, and in typical Stark fashion, he learned the language already and is far better than I am.
Still, Venna quickly reviews a few key phrases with us, to be sure we’re ready for any instructions she needs to pass along. All of us can, in turn, mentally communicate any instructions to our wolves.
Venna leans her head into the room farther, bracing her arms against thedoorframe, but then pulls her head out and takes a step back, frowning. “It’s too dark to see much farther than where the button landed. I think we have to just… go forward.”
We dismount. Venna shows us the slow, quiet way she steps when she’s trying not to make a sound.
“There aren’t really any loose pebbles or pieces of gravel down here, from what I can see,” she instructs. “So just put each foot down softly, rolling it down to the ground, and take it slowly. I’ll go first and can tell you if the terrain changes.”
Lucky the island’s magic saw fit to dry us all off. We’d all be making wet squelching sounds for days with the amount of water our leather boots took on.
Anassa and Cratos and Ephyse have moved off to the side and are clearly getting a lesson in stealthiness from Skaia. Their claws, I realize. They’ll have to step differently to keep them from clicking on the floor.
Or risk losing a paw. I swallow.
At Venna’s prompting, we all check our clothing and packs to make sure nothing on us might jingle or clink as we move. We all removed everything unnecessary before diving into the icy waters of the sea, which helps.
We tighten straps and buckles around weapons, one of the only items we alldidprioritize, swim in the sea or no.
Venna and Skaia step up to the door. Venna lets Skaia go first; easier to sign back to us without her wolf’s bulk in the way, I think.
Skaia moves as soundlessly as a shadow. As a Kryptos wolf, she was born for this.
Everyone holds their breath. But the Kryptos pair are masters of their craft. Venna and Skaia move farther into the room without a whisper of sound.
Before they disappear into the dim gloom, Venna turns her head to me, then flicks her hand down and across to say: “Follow me.”
Anassa and I creep in next, then signal back to Noemi and Ephyse. Stark and Cratos bring up the rear.
Venna and her wolf move at an agonizingly slow pace. I never could havebeen Kryptos, I reflect wryly. I’m much more suited for running headlong at problems, rather than coming up on them slowly and carefully.
Probably something I could work on.
Venna and Skaia look in every direction as they move, somehow able to spot the best terrain in the dim light that grows ever dimmer.
I get a flashback to the Ascent, Venna helping us navigate through tricky patches of ice. The memory is bittersweet, Izabel’s fierce determination bright in my memory.
Venna got us through that time. She’ll get us through now.
