It was huge. And heavy. And she didn’t see a handle anywhere. And…

She was so focused on the door that she didn’t see the dwarf crawling toward her until they had already lunged—and with Keefe’s extra weight, dodging was impossible.

The impact sent them tumbling, tumbling, tumbling—a tangle of legs and arms and fur—and Sophie tried to fight back, but she couldn’t let go of Keefe, and then she was pinned and—

“It’s okay, Sophie!” the dwarf shouted. “It’s me. Nubiti!”

“Nubiti,” Sophie repeated, needing another second for the panic and adrenaline screaming though her head to quiet.

Nubiti. Nubiti. Nubiti.

Except…

“I’m on your side!” Nubiti promised when she felt Sophie tense. “I know what King Enki did to you—if he even deserves the title of king—and I’ve been trying to—TAKE COVER!”

She grabbed Sophie’s shoulders, barely managing to roll their tangled group away before something black whisked over their heads and exploded in a shower of shadowy smoke.

“SHE’S ON OUR SIDE!” Sophie called out to Tam. “IT’S OKAY. HOLD FIRE!”

“Wait—he’s on your side?” Nubiti asked when she realized who Sophie was shouting to.

“He is. And so is the Flasher in the Neverseen cloak. Or, she says she is, and… I’m trying to trust her. She’s the one who broke Tam’s bonds so he could take on Lady Gisela.”

Nubiti sighed as she stood. “It appears we’ve both been misreading the situation.”

THUMP!

Sophie tensed again—and Tam and Glimmer went back to their positions.

Nubiti shook her head. “That’s not what you think it is. This is the problem with battle—you lose proper communication and…”

Her gaze focused on Keefe, and her voice trailed off.

“I need to get him to Elwin,” Sophie said, not bothering to get into the whole messy story because she’d realized something way more important. “You can take me to the better path! Glimmer said they used one that goes straight from here to the surface, but that I’d need a dwarf to take me down a level to use it. And since all the dwarves here were trying to kill us, I didn’t think it was an option, but now you’re here! Please tell me you know what I’m talking about.”

“I do,” Nubiti said, leaning closer to Keefe and waving a hand in front of his open eyes.

He didn’t blink.

“I can take you to that path,” Nubiti said slowly. “And I can distract the guards who patrol it as much as I can. But you will need to run very fast—and you’ll be carrying—”

“I can do it,” Sophie promised, refusing to share Nubiti’s worries.

She’d just been given a much better chance of getting Keefe to Elwin, and she wasn’t going to waste it because of doubt.

“I’ll run faster than I’ve ever run before,” she added, saying the words out loud to make them real. “I’m getting Keefe to the Healing Center.”

THUMP!

“Ah yes,” Nubiti said, “I should let them in before you go—let them know this area’s been secured.”

“Them?” Sophie asked, struggling to heft Keefe back into her arms and shift his weight to maximize running speed.

And she assumed Nubiti was going to tell her about a loyal band of dwarves she’d been fighting with.

But when Nubiti cranked open the door, it was one of those movie moments, where all of the heroes find their way back to each other and they can’t decide if they want to laugh or cry or make the biggest group hug ever.

Because there, standing in the doorway, looking like they’d definitely been fighting some epic battles—but winning them—were Councillor Bronte, and Councillor Darek, and Councillor Zarina, and Woltzer, and Lovise, and Grizel.

And Dex.

And Biana.

And Stina.

And Fitz.

Fitz.

His eyes only held hers for a second—but it was enough for Sophie to see that he was alive, so she’d happily take it.

And she tried to figure out the right thing to say to all of her friends—some sort of celebration and apology for forgetting to check in on them.

But then she realized…

None of them were smiling.

None of them were really even looking at her—their focus instead on the pale, unconscious, blank-stared boy in her arms.

And the devastation in their expressions was both a gut punch and a jolt of energy. Because it reminded Sophie of where she needed to be focusing.

She’d save the hugs and stories for later.

Right now…

“Sorry, I have to go,” she mumbled. “Things… haven’t gone very well—though there has been one really good thing. But I’ll let Tam tell you about it.”

“Tam?” Biana asked, her eyes scanning the room—and getting caught on all the unconscious forms spread across the floor.

“Tam will explain that, too,” Sophie promised. “And tell you who Glimmer is. I have to go. I’m sorry.”

She avoided all of their stares as Nubiti crouched to dig a hole in the sandy floor.

But right before Nubiti dragged her in, Fitz’s accented voice filled Sophie’s head.

You don’t have to be sorry, he transmitted. You’re doing the right thing. Take care of him, and we’ll take care of whatever else we have to deal with here.

Thank you, Sophie transmitted back as the sand swallowed her whole, scraping and scratching and scuffing her skin raw while her lungs burned and burned, desperate for a fresh breath.

But she barely noticed the discomfort, because Fitz sent her one more transmission.

I’m glad you’re okay. And… I’ve really missed you. All of this is so much harder without you.

I feel the same way, Sophie agreed.

She wanted to say more, but the sand spat her back out, and she gulped down the fresh air, coughing bits of sand out of her lungs.

“Honestly, I think I’d rather sink though mud,” she told Nubiti, shaking her feet, trying to get the sand off her boots—and then she lowered her voice to a whisper as she studied the long, empty hall stretching in either direction. “Is this the path?”

Nubiti nodded, pointing to the left. “That will take you to the surface. I’ll go the other way and see if I can draw the guards to me.”

“Okay, then,” Sophie said, not wanting to waste any time or strength on lingering or worrying.

It was time to just… begin.

She took one second to stare into Keefe’s unblinking eyes and transmitted, Stay with me. I’m getting you to Elwin.

“Run fast, Sophie,” Nubiti whispered as Sophie hefted Keefe over her shoulder and took off down the hall, starting with a jog, giving her legs a moment to find their stride before she pushed them to go faster.

Faster.

Faster.

Faster.

She didn’t think about what might be behind her, or how much farther she had ahead. She just centered her mind on one foot in front of the other.

Go.

Go.

Go.

Her muscles throbbed, and her chest heaved, and the hall echoed with scurries and hisses and screams—but she tuned it all out.

Stay with me, Keefe.