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“What if the fluffin doesn’t want to?” I asked cautiously.

“No one else may touch them,” she declared. “If anyone but the fluffin does, the eggs will harden, and they will die.”

“Well, that’s sad,” Visha remarked.

“Sad but kind of a relief,” Rodriguez admitted. “Mortis doesn’t have a fluffin—even if they get to the vault first, the eggs will be unusable. Viktor loses.”

“Now I am going to bed,” Hawl announced.

“Good night, Hawl,” we all chimed.

It wasn’t a bad idea, I thought, under the circumstances. We could argue with Zaira more in the morning. I leaned back against Blake, suddenly exhausted. Blake kissed the top of my head softly. “Who knows what else she’s not telling us,” he murmured.

I fell asleep still wondering.

Chapter 48

MEDRA

My legs were starting to feel like they belonged to someone else. We’d been walking all day through the web of forest-filled, cathedral-sized chambers connected by narrow rock corridors. At first we’d made conversation to pass the time. Pointed out interesting sights. My favorite was the waterfall that vanished into a dark crack into nowhere.

Now hours later, even Kazmyn had stopped yapping. There was no evening here, no sun to rely on. But the pack on my back felt like it had dug lines into my shoulders, and my feet throbbed. I was staring mindlessly ahead as I walked when Hawl’s voice rumbled from behind me.

“I am hungry.”

Rodriguez was in front of me. He didn’t even turn around to reply. “Yes, well, we all are.”

“We should stop. I will make a stew.”

Walking just beside me, Blake made a small, choked sound. I glanced over at him, a smile already on my lips. “Blake?” I thought he’d been startled by the mention of stew, but then I realized his face had gone strangely pale. He coughed once, then again, hard. His hand went to his throat.

I looked around. It wasn’t just him. Visha had stopped walking and was bent over with her hands on her thighs. Kazmyn was beside her looking concerned. Ahead of me, Rodriguez was wheezing as if he’d swallowed smoke. I turned around. Behind Hawl, Sankara, and Magda had stopped, too. My lungs were starting to tighten, as if the air in the cavern was squeezing me from the inside. Blake was still coughing.

I looked around us, wildly, trying to understand what was going on. Behind us I could see Zaira doing the same. We were still in the forest, but something had changed. A haze rose from the undergrowth around our feet. Tiny particles suspended in the air coming from the plants. Spores.

I met Zaira’s eyes. “What’s going on? What’s happening?”

“We must have reached the first ward.” For the first time, she looked almost afraid. “The forest … it’s reacting. We’ve triggered the ward.”

“How do we get through it?” I demanded. Blake coughed, harder this time. He grabbed for my arm. Fear pricked at me. “Zaira! How do we stop this?”

The Stone Keeper was looking around desperately. “Find the runestone. There should be one here somewhere. Look for dwarven stone.”

“Everyone, fan out!” I barked, forcing my voice to cut through the sounds of wheezing and coughing. “Look for a big stone!”

Sankara and Magda were already moving, spreading out in opposite directions. Sankara was surprisingly agile for such a large man. Visha, still coughing, walked into the foliage, a dagger already in her hand. Kazmyn followed a few feet behind. For once, she wasn’t complaining about his presence. Near me, Hawl dropped to one knee.

“Hawl!” I moved forward to touch the bear’s shoulder, then realized what they were doing. They scooped Neville up and tucked the fluffin’s face against their fur. One huge paw covered Neville’s head gently, shielding the fluffin’s face from the haze of spores. “Good idea,” I rasped as a cough racked my body.

I swept my gaze out across the forest floor, trying to ignore the fact my vision was starting to blur. Everything seemed to be glowing. The forest that had been so beautiful and enchanting only moments before now looked murderous.

“Here!” It was Kazmyn. He stood near the base of a pale tree trunk. Half-buried beneath glowing ferns was a ring of stones.

Zaira was already running over. I followed, pulling Blake by the hand behind me. Deep runes were cut into six square stone faces. “Which one?” I demanded.

Rodriguez stumbled up behind us, his eyes streaming. “Hurry,” he gasped. “Visha …”

Kazmyn’s eyes leaped past Rodriguez to where Visha was bent over in a patch of tall ferns and grass, her eyes closed, swaying.