Chapter 69
Sal and Oscar succeed in shutting the bookcase behind us, but it’s only a matter of time until the Guardians break through it.
But I have eyes only for David.
He leans against the far wall, wearing a funny little smile.
“You figured out where the exit is, too?” He raps the stone behind him with his knuckles. “I heard it starting to shift, or I fear I never would have located it. I’ll share the treasure on the other side. You can have half—Suns, more. Just let me come with you.”
The Guardians snarl and pound at the bookshelf, hunting for a way to get to us.
“You’re a fool,” I say to David. “It’s not going to open to treasure.”
His face twitches. “You don’t know that.”
My eyes catch on the goblin’s gold near his feet.
It needs a damp environment to grow, but this basement has a dehumidifying machine.
It must be getting moisture through cracks in the wall invisible to the naked eye.
I should have realized that when I first noticed the moss, but I’d been too deep in grief and shock and overwhelm.
“This isn’t an extension of her secret vault,” I say, stepping closer, eyes on the moss. Greed has blinded David to the obvious. “Why would she put treasure beyond her own reach? It’s the exit Korr was required to build, nothing more.”
His mask slips, revealing the rot beneath. “Whatever it is, it’s mine,” he hisses, pulling a knife from his belt.
Before I can react, Gryphon leaps forward and pinches David’s neck. The Record Keeper crashes to the floor, just as a tremor nearly knocks us all off our feet. Cracks splinter across the ceiling tiles.
Holy Sun.
“It’s opening!” Eero yells.
My heart pounds my ribs hard enough to bruise. The seemingly unbroken wall hisses, then begins to slide open with a deep, mechanical exhale. A smell washes over us, alien and indescribable. Not good, not bad, but…different.
The bookcase explodes as David’s pruno still flies through it. The Guardians have used it as a battering ram. We’re out of time.
“Come on!” I shout.
I yank Eero into the darkness with me, noting a lever just inside the entrance.
Oscar grabs Sal’s arm, pulling them both through.
Gryphon is the last to enter, backing toward us with his sword raised to fend off the Guardians surging through the breach.
Steel screams when his blade meets the first attacker.
He’s almost inside the chamber—just two more steps and I can slam the lever down—when Leo launches himself out of the blur of bodies and drives his foot into Gryphon’s gut.
Gryphon stumbles, his guard dropping for a heartbeat.
“Gryphon!” I scream, but Leo is already raising his sword for a killing blow.
Oscar and Eero move before I can, flying at Leo as one, their small frames crashing into the man.
All three tumble together, Eero and Oscar’s fists flying wildly.
But they’re no match for a trained Guardian.
Leo shoves Eero away and rolls on top of Oscar, pinning the boy’s shoulders to the stone floor.
Leo’s sword gleams as he lifts it high above Oscar’s chest at the same time as a mechanical whirring fills the air, growing louder, closer.
Albert’s wheelchair shoots through the shattered bookshelf, tears streaming down his face as he screams wordlessly.
He slams into Leonidas with a thud, sending him sprawling.
Without slowing, he spins and rockets toward a second Guardian locked in combat with Gryphon, catching the Guardian square in the back.
The impact ricochets Albert and Gryphon into the chamber alongside Sal and me, Albert’s chair catching and releasing the lever.
With a screech that cuts through the chaos, the door begins to slide closed. Leo scrambles to his feet, his eyes catching mine in a flash of hate and shock. He surges forward just as the passage seals shut, his outstretched blade scraping against the stone.
There is a moment of darkness, then a single, dim light flicks on at our feet.
I throw myself at the door, digging into the crack until my fingernails peel back.
Oscar and Eero are on the other side. There must be a way to save them.
I find the lever and tug on it. I’m answered by a bone-deep scraping noise, low and threatening.
I stumble back, expecting the door to open, but instead, the walls shake, the stone trembling beneath our feet.
With a grinding roar, the ceiling begins to drop.
“Get away from the door!” I yell, grabbing the nearest hand. “Now!”
We dive into blackness, the tunnel behind us shrieking as it collapses.
A fist-sized chunk of ceiling glances off my shoulder.
I bite down a cry and taste blood. Gryphon’s hand is in mine, or maybe it’s Sal’s—I can’t see.
My lungs burn with each breath of debris-thick air, and somewhere behind me, Albert is shouting for us to move faster, but my legs feel like water and the ground keeps shifting.
I don’t know if we’re escaping or being buried alive.
Almost as soon as it starts, it stops.
Light blooms.
Weak, flickering points sputter to life along the walls, just like the one at the entrance.
They’re unlike any illumination I’ve ever seen, neither flame nor bulb, casting shadows that dance across stone.
They provide enough light to show that the direction we came from is now an impassable pile of rock.
Blinding dust hangs thick in the air, making my throat tight.
“Is anyone hurt?” I ask. It’s a ridiculous question. Each one of us is shattered. Albert is grieving his mother, Gryphon his father, even if he might deny it. We had to leave Meryl, Eero, Lozen, and Oscar behind.
“I don’t see a ventilation system,” Albert says, anxiety tightening his voice. “This area wasn’t made for lingering.”
The four of us look at one another, then to the only path available to us—the one leading into the unknown.
I’m overcome with both dread and sadness.
We’ve been confined to Noah’s Valley for generations, and now, we have no choice but to leave.
Our eyes meet again, and we exchange a look of silent agreement.
Then we turn our backs on everything we’ve ever called home.