“None of what?” Dex asked.

“It’s different for everyone,” Grady told him, tightening his grip on Sophie’s hand. “I don’t fully understand the phenomenon, but something about the sensory deprivation makes us see things, and hear things, and sometimes even feel things that aren’t actually there.”

“And I’m assuming it won’t be, like, pretty flowers and flying alicorns and rainbow glitter showers?” Biana asked.

“It is for some,” Bronte admitted. “And those kinds of hallucinations pose their own challenges. But the majority of us will find that the total absence of any light leaves us facing our worst nightmares.”

“Wonderful,” Dex muttered.

“Wait—total absence of light?” Wylie clarified.

Sophie frowned when Bronte nodded.

“I thought there was always some light,” she argued, “and that we just had to find a way to make our mind concentrate on it in order to see it.”

That was what she’d been taught during her skill lessons, when she was trying to improve her darkness vision.

“Not on the King’s Path,” Grady corrected. “Once we move far enough away from this room, there won’t be any light until we reach the Grand Hall.”

“How is that possible?” Wylie wondered.

Sophie could’ve guessed Nubiti’s answer.

“Magsidian. The stones set along the King’s Path have been cut to absorb every particle of light that comes near them, which makes those in my species lose their bearings unless they’ve been given something specific to guide them. But you elves have a much stronger reaction. The effect won’t set in immediately, and when it does, I’ll be here to keep you moving. But you must all count on becoming very disoriented. And those of you who’ve journeyed down the King’s Path before should know that our security has changed in recent months. The magsidian has been altered, and that, in turn, has altered the Path’s effect. There’s no consensus on whether the experience is better or worse, but all agree that it’s wholly different, and many have struggled because they thought they knew what to expect. So try to go in with the mind-set that what you’re about to endure will be unlike anything you’ve survived before.”

Sophie wasn’t a fan of the word “endure” in all of that.

Or “survived.”

But she tried to be a good leader and focus on what was most important.

“Does that mean the King’s Path is where the dwarves who joined the Neverseen sabotaged the magsidian before they left?” she asked.

“It’s one of several locations,” Nubiti agreed, sounding far more casual than Sophie would’ve expected, considering the fact that they were discussing a security breach on the path to her king.

“Where were the other places?” Stina wanted to know.

“I’ll show you during the tour,” Nubiti promised. “Right now, I need you to start moving. You’ll still have a few minutes before the disorientation hits if you need to ask any final questions. But keeping King Enki waiting would be a very unwise way to begin this visit.”

“It would,” Bronte agreed. “Particularly given the change of plans.”

Sophie had a feeling the quick squeeze he gave her hand had nothing to do with reassurance and everything to do with the fact that she was supposed to take the lead.

So she allowed herself one long breath to gather her courage.

Then she dragged everyone onto the dark, unsettling path.

They’d only taken three steps before Sophie’s lumenite circlet winked out—along with Dex’s, Wylie’s, Stina’s, and Biana’s—and Sophie hadn’t realized how much the white light had been helping until it was gone.

“Within the next minute, you will no longer be able to see,” Nubiti warned, sounding suddenly closer, “and when that happens, I need you to know three things. First: The Path is flat and true, so there’s no need to seek out walls for balance. You can trust your feet not to fail you—even those of you who sometimes consider yourselves to be clumsy. Second: My voice is your guide, and you will be able to follow the sound regardless of how deeply you lose yourself. And third: The longer you linger, the worse the effect gets. So if you can hold on to one truth, it’s that you must keep going, no matter what.”

“This is sounding better and better,” Stina grumbled.

“If you don’t like it,” Nubiti told her, “I suggest you move faster.”

Sophie picked up the pace for all of them.

“How much longer do we have before the hallucinations start?” Dex asked.

“It varies from person to person,” Bronte told him. “I’ve seen some lose themselves almost instantly, and others make it through a significant portion of the journey.”

“The average is about ten minutes from the moment you hit the darkness,” Grady added, “which for us should be right… about… now.”

Sophie didn’t need the verbal cue—she knew the second the light abandoned them.

The shadows shifted, turning blacker—thicker.

Erasing everything.

Up. Down. Left. Right. These no longer held any meaning.

She couldn’t even feel the breath in her chest or the ground beneath her feet.

Ten minutes until the madness, she thought, determined to last longer. She counted off the seconds, hoping the focused task would keep her head clear.

How many seconds were in fifteen minutes?

Or twenty?

Working the math made her lose count, and she started over, making it to eighty-one before the darkness changed again, slamming against her with an eerie sort of chill that sank past clothes and skin and bone.

Into the heart of every cell.

Freezing solid.

But her body didn’t shiver.

It sweated.

And the trickle down her back felt like icy fingers—tugging at her hair, her skin, her clothes—

No! Stop! Focus!

No one was touching her.

No one else was even there with her, except Nubiti and Bronte and Dex and…

There were more.

Why couldn’t she remember them?

And what if there was someone else—someone she didn’t know?

Nubiti had never said they’d be alone as they journeyed down this path.

And dwarves could pop out of the ground anytime, anywhere, their clawed hands thrashing through the sand, teeth glinting—

“What was that?”

Sophie didn’t recognize the voice who asked.

She also couldn’t see what they meant.

It was too dark. Too cold. Too empty. Too—

“Wait, what was that?”

This time the voice was hers—though it sounded shriller.

Shakier.

Broken up by heavy breaths.

But that was because she’d caught something this time.

A flicker of movement.

A darker shade of black.

Someone was there.

What was that? What was that? What was that?

So many flashes all around her, burning her eyes, making them tear up. But she must’ve made it past the darkness, because she could see again.

The hallway stretched endlessly in front of her.

And it was empty.

No one.

No one.

No one.