“Give me three days to get them all to subchapter 1.”

“Done. Tristan, may I have a word with you in private?”

I feel an ache in my belly. Ram had told us food would be served, but that was apparently a lie. “Can it wait until after breakfast?” I ask. Roc nods vigorously.

Ben laughs. “Of course. We don’t want you passing out before you do anything for us. Ram,” he says, and I groan. Our supportive escort, back on duty, babysitting.

The look on Ram’s face shows he’s about as happy about it as we are. “C’mon,” he growls.

Chapter Seven

Adele

My eyes blink open. It is dark, of course, so I can’t see, not well anyway. I must’ve dropped my flashlight when I fell. It’s not on, so either the batteries died or it broke. I’m surprised to even be waking up. I thought the Flu or the dehydration would take me away.

My next thought is Tawni. Is she still alive? Did the Flu spare her life, too?

I put a hand on my head. There’s a bulging lump on my forehead but it’s not warm. I don’t feel shivery or sweaty. The fever has broken.

I want to test my legs, so I place a hand on the ground to push off. The ground has some give to it, like it’s not made of stone. It’s weird. Maybe I’m still hallucinating, my fever still raging on while I dream. Or I might still be asleep, in a viral coma, dreaming of soft ground and blackness.

As I touch the floor again, I confirm: The ground is definitely soft. I try to stand up anyway, but I can’t seem to get my legs under me, either because of the plush ground or my failing muscles. I might still be dying; just not dead yet.

One more time I push upwards with my hands and I feel my muscles grip, firm and strong. They don’t hurt. Perhaps I’m in shock. I am up but unsteady on my feet, wobbling and swaying and holding my arms out to try to get my balance, like a baby trying to take its first step. Losing the battle, I topple over, but I don’t hit the soft ground quickly like I expect. Instead the ground is farther away, as if I’m falling into a hole. And when I collide with it, the floor is no longer soft, but hard like…well, like rock. I scrape my arm and bang my knee and cry out.

“Who’s there?” someone asks. The voice sounds so familiar. So very familiar. My mind churns, but like the rock-cutting machines, I come up with only shattered rocks as thoughts. Nothing makes sense. I’m alone in the tunnels and yet…

“Tawni?” I say, knowing the voice was hers but also knowing it couldn’t have been. Surely I’m still hallucinating.

“Adele?” the hallucination says.

“Yes, it’s me,” I say, right away feeling stupid for talking to an apparition.

“Thank God. Where are we?”

If it is Tawni, she’s hallucinating too, confused by the fever that continues to plague us both. “Are you real?” I say.

“I think so,” Tawni says, her voice rising in the dark.

“Keep it down!” a third voice grunts. “I’m trying to sleep.”

Tawni squeals and I cover my head like someone is about to hit me.

When I pull my arm from my eyes the darkness is being fought off by an incoming light—a lantern. It bounces and sways as it approaches. I’m scared of the hallucination but I won’t show it. My mouth is a snarl.

“Who’s there?” Tawni says and I trace her voice to her face, which is now lit up by our mysterious visitor’s lantern. She is scared and it shows on her furrowed brow and wide, white eyes.

I look back to the light and have to shield my eyes with my hand as the bright beams flash in my face. A hand reaches over the lantern and covers it with a thin fabric, dimming the light. “You’re awake,” a young male voice says. The voice places the lantern on the ground and steps forward. Backlit by the light, our visitor is a dark profile, just a shadow in the shape of a human.

“Who are you?” I ask, my eyes never leaving the shadow. I’m still on the ground and I finally realize something: We’re not in the tunnel anymore. Tawni is elevated on a low bed, similar to one I was lying on, which is why I had so far to fall when I toppled over. Although I can’t see much of it, in my peripheral vision I can make out rows of beds extending in either direction. The room is large. “Where are we?” I add to my initial query.

Instead of responding, the shadow steps forward and extends a dark hand. If he wants to hurt me, he will regardless of whether I take his hand now. I hesitate, but then take his hand, tightening my muscles in preparation for a fight. His hand is warm but not sweaty, strong but not angry.

He pulls me to my feet with ease and I struggle to maintain my balance, but he adds a second hand to the small of my back to steady me. I don’t like this—relying on someone else. It makes me uncomfortable.

Gently he guides me to Tawni’s bed, and she lifts her knees to make room for me. “Sit here,” he says. I obey, only because I’m not sure I can stay on my feet any longer.

With a deft spin, he turns and sits on the bed I was on originally. His face is thrust into the light. As I guessed from his voice, he’s young, no more than twenty. His hair is chestnut and curly, and his eyes light brown. He’s smiling, but it’s constrained, like he’s afraid of being too merry given our present condition.

“I’m Trevor,” he says. “Welcome to the Star Realm.” His eyes are dancing in the light.

“What? But how?” I ask.

Trevor laughs. “We heard you.”

“Heard us what?” I say, stupefied by how anyone could have possibly found us. Then I remember: the dim light I saw up ahead, fighting to reach it, failing, passing out; darkness surrounding. “I was at the border,” I say, before Trevor can reply. “But I didn’t make any noise.”

Trevor smirks. “From what I hear, you were screaming like a banshee. The border guards found you delirious on the tunnel floor, yelling and screaming about floods and bats and sun dwellers.”

I don’t remember any of what he is saying so I’m not sure whether I can trust him. But I’m here, I guess, so it makes sense.

He continues: “They managed to calm you down, but you kept mumbling about your friend in the tunnel. At first they thought it was just the fever, but you kept persisting so we sent a few men and they found her.” He motions to Tawni.

I look at Tawni. She looks much better. Her normal pale-pink color has returned, and her eyes are no longer a tortured red. “You saved me,” she says to me.

“No.”

“Yes. I couldn’t make it any farther, but you did.”

I shrug. “I just got lucky.”

“Luck had nothing to do with it,” Trevor says and I look back at him. His grin is gone and the brown in his eyes has darkened. He runs a hand through his long hair. “Let me guess: You drank from the reservoir in the inter-Realm tunnel?”

I nod, feeling somewhat sheepish. I expect him to mock us for our stupidity. He doesn’t.

“Impressive. You made it nearly forty miles before the Flu took you.”

Even I raise my eyebrows. Forty miles. But I keep my mouth tight. “All the more reason why we were lucky.”

“If you say so,” he says.

“I do. What is this place, anyway?”

“The infirmary. Kind of like a hospital. We get a lot of sick people down here. The conditions aren’t great.”

Looking down the row of beds to either side, I can make out a few arms, legs, and heads poking from beneath the sheets. “I need to get out of here,” I say.

“Not gonna happen.”

“What—are we prisoners?”

“Not exactly.”

“Then why can’t we leave?” I don’t like being told what to do, even by the people who have helped us.

“You’re not well enough yet.”

I take a deep breath and plan my next words carefully. Tawni, always the mediator, steps in for me. “Thank you, Trevor. Thank you for everything you’ve done for us. But we’re here on an urgent matter. There’s someone we have to find.”