you.â The boy smiled brightly.
Lena made the choice on which direction to take. She made all the choices as the forks multiplied. She led them right. Then left. Then right again. The idea, she said, was to avoid going in a circle.
âThe idea,â Colm said, âis to find the way out.â
âThe idea,â Quinn added, âis to stay alive. And m-m-maybe f-find something to eat. Iâm starving.â
Colm fished in his sack for his last apple and handed it over. Quinn took it eagerly.
âI wouldnât worry,â Lena said. âWeâve been down here for some time now and havenât seen anything remotely dangerous. Iâm guessing the place is deserted.â
Quinn reached out and clutched Colmâs arm as a shrill screech, like the sound a wounded animal might make, came from their left.
âThat doesnât sound deserted,â Colm said. âMaybe we should go right this time.â
Lena looked like she wanted to disagree, but instead she nodded and turned right, Colm following behind her. Stay behind the big guy, he thought to himself. That was Finnâs advice. He just hadnât said that the big guy might be a girl. Or that the girl would have such brilliant red hair.
They continued deeper, away from the screeching, Colm walking on tiptoe. He listened for sounds. He watched for traps.He inspected the walls for levers or pulleys or anything vaguely mechanical, something that might trigger a secret door or a falling rock. He wasnât sure why he was doing these things or what, exactly, he was even looking for, but his instinctsâhoned by so many years of sibling tortureâhad kicked in. Quinn held on to Colmâs belt strap the way Colm used to do with his father when he was three. He had finished the apple.
âSo you say youâre a mage,â Colm whispered behind him. âThat means you cast spells and stuff?â
âIâm n-n-not qu-qu-quite a mage yet. Iâm only a m-m-m-mââ
âMageling. Yes. But even a mageling must know some magic, right? I mean, you could maybe fill these tunnels with light or see through the walls or even maybe teleport us all out of here,â Colm suggested.
Quinn shook his head emphatically, eyes somehow growing even wider. âOh, you donât want me to do that,â he said.
âNo, you really donât,â Lena seconded from up ahead.
âI t-t-tried t-teleporting my cat once. Poor F-F-F-Friskers. All that was left was her t-t-tâ her t-t-tâ herââ
âTail?â Colm guessed.
âToes,â Quinn said. âFour little sets of toes. C-c-claws and all. And all the rest . . . p-p-poof .â
Quinn let go of Colmâs belt long enough to make an imitation of a cat exploding, then latched back on. Colm decided that was enough talk of spells. He focused his attention forward and then ran smack into Lenaâs backside.
âSshhh!â she hissed. âHear that?â
Colm listened. He could hear something coming from up the hall. It sounded like someone singing. Soft and melodic. Much better than the screeching they had left behind. Colm thought of Finn humming on their way out of Felhaven. Maybe it was him. âMaybe this is the end,â he said.
âOr maybe itâs a trap,â Lena countered, but even as she said it, she smiled, as if a trap were preferable to an exit. Beside Colm, the mageling started to shiver, but Lena Proudmore was already moving in the direction of the sound, torch in one hand, her makeshift stone dagger in the other. The three of them turned the corner.
They found themselves staring into a small chamber, lit with another torch. There was no ogre, but there was something. Another girl, her features sharper and even more angled than Lenaâs. She had skin the color of tree bark and short black tufts of hair that were cinched with all manner of thread and twine, making little horns jutting out
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