Nightfall

by Shannon Messenger

  Her parents.

  Her brain wasn’t totally ready to accept the fact that her family was somewhere beyond the massive door.

  “Tam, can you start gathering your shadows?” she whispered. “And, Biana, can you turn us invisible? And, Marella—can you . . . do whatever you do to have some flames ready?”

  “I always have flames ready,” Marella told her. “Heat calls to me, whether I want it to or not. Why do you think I’m the only one not shivering right now?”

  “Sounds intense,” Sophie mumbled.

  “It is. And just so you know, we’re looping back to the why-do-you-have-Keefe’s-blood conversation later—assuming we don’t get eaten or something.”

  Sophie sighed. “First let’s work on not getting eaten.”

  “Probably a good plan.” Biana reached for Sophie’s left hand, making them both vanish.

  I’m going to open my mind to yours, Sophie transmitted to the group as Biana made Marella disappear and Tam shrouded himself with shadows. And I promise I won’t listen to any secrets you don’t want me hearing. This is just so I can pass along any questions you guys have, so we’re all able to stay in communication without talking and giving ourselves away.

  Does that mean we’re ready to go in? Biana asked.

  I am if you are.

  Their responding yeps sounded as shaky as Sophie felt, but she moved toward the door anyway, tracing her fingers across the runes carved into the sleek metal.

  The star only rises at Nightfall.

  Maybe they were about to learn what the words meant.

  Okay, she transmitted, taking a deep breath and reaching toward the sensor with the bloody scrap. No sudden movements And try to keep your breathing shallow. If all goes according to plan the Neverseen won’t realize we’re here until we’re already gone.

  She didn’t let herself imagine the million things that could go wrong—or think about Lady Gisela’s warning about her parents’ sanity. She grabbed on to her hope with everything she had and swiped Keefe’s blood across the sensor.

  No lights flashed.

  No sirens blared.

  And no snarling beast slammed against the door.

  All Sophie was rewarded with was a soft click and the faintest whir of metal.

  But when her fingers grasped the handle, she was able to gently turn the mechanism.

  And slowly, painstakingly, she pulled open the enormous door.

  Forty-five

  WHERE ARE THEY?

  Tam was the first to ask the question—though Sophie could hear it forming in everyone’s minds as dangling silver lanterns sparked to life one by one along the vaulted ceiling, revealing intricately carved white-stone walls lining a wide corridor that disappeared around a curve.

  Nothing more.

  No sign of the balefire cage Lady Gisela had promised.

  Definitely no gigantic mutant beasts ready to devour them.

  The elegant hall didn’t even have the damp, musky scent that usually suggested animals were nearby. The air smelled dry, sterile, and ever-so-slightly smoky—but that might’ve been the ash coating Sophie’s nose.

  Do you think Keefe’s mom lied about the gorgodons? Marella asked.

  Why would she do that? Biana wondered after Sophie passed along the question. She wants Sophie to tell her which doors have glowing runes.

  I don’t see any doors so far, though, Sophie noted. The arched walls were nothing but solid stone, and the glittering white floor was perfectly smooth.

  She glanced behind her, checking the door they’d entered through—which seemed to have sealed itself shut.

  You don’t think this is a trap, do you? she asked. What if Lady Gisela’s planning an ambush and made up the whole gorgodon story to make sure we’d come in a small group with no goblins to defend us?

  That’s what I’m here for, Marella reminded her. And if she made us crust ourselves with this disgusting ash for no reason, I’m going burn off all of her hair.

  Uh, guys? Biana chimed in. I don’t think she was lying.

  She dragged Sophie and Marella over to a section of the wall where three evenly spaced gashes marred the ornamentation. Anyone else think these look like claw marks?

  Sophie traced her fingers along the jagged edge, realizing there were similar marks scratched into the floor a few feet ahead. And more on the ceiling.

  Why does this not feel like good news? Tam thought.

  Because it means they’re still loose in the halls, Sophie told him.

  She turned toward the shadows, searching for glowing eyes, or any other sign that they were about to become a midnight snack. She couldn’t find anything—but Lady Gisela had warned them that the gorgodons could blend with the scenery.

  So . . . what do we do now? Biana asked.

  All of Sophie’s instincts were screaming, RUN FAR AWAY!

  But she reached down and checked to ensure that her melder was easily within reach in her boot before she transmitted, I guess we head as quietly as we can toward the fourth floor and hope my parents are where Lady Gisela said they’d be.

  Preferably before the gorgodons find us, Tam added.

  With that settled, they tiptoed down the hall, fighting back their screams every time a new lantern flicked on.

  There must be motion sensors, Sophie transmitted.

  Think there’s any way to shut them off? Marella asked. It’s killing our stealth.

  The best solution they could come up with was to have Tam wrap the lanterns in shadows to mute all but the faintest hint of their glow—but it also meant they could barely see where they were going.

  Every tiny sound blared through the facility, like Marella’s slight “oof” when she tripped over another gouge in the floor, and when Tam scraped his arm on a jagged section of the wall. It felt like hours before they passed the first fork in the corridor—though it had probably only been a few minutes. And the hall split twice before they found the doors Lady Gisela had told them to watch for.

  Side-by-side white double doors with runes carved into the top.

  None of the runes were glowing.

  And all of the doors were open.

  Some were only cracked a sliver, but most had been pushed wide, revealing dark, dusty spaces.

  Those runes mean “courage,” Biana told Sophie, knowing her mind had only been trained to read the Black Swan’s cipher runes. And the door over there says “ingenuity.”

  Think this has anything to do with the “criterion”? Sophie transmitted. Keefe said Fintan was making him list qualities in people he’d want to save, and I bet they were things like this.

  But wouldn’t Lady Gisela have labeled these doors long before that? Biana asked.

  Good point, Sophie admitted. Unless the criterion was part of her Lodestar Initiative.

  You know what’s weird? Tam asked, thinning the shadows past one of the doors so they could see better. These rooms are empty.

  They weren’t always, though, Sophie noted. Look at the dust patterns on the floor.

  Dark shapes on the marble formed the outlines of . . .

  Furniture?

  Equipment?

  It was impossible to tell—but they found the same shapes in every room they checked.

  Something feels wrong, doesn’t it? Sophie asked when the hall split again, revealing more dark, open doors. It was like they’d stepped into one of those human movies where the rescue party shows up to a place that’s far too quiet, and they slowly realize they’ve walked into a death trap.

  It kinda feels like the Neverseen are moving out of this hideout, doesn’t it? Tam asked.

  Why would they do that? Sophie wondered. They just lost a ton of hideouts. Plus, Keefe’s mom spent forever building this place.

  Yeah, but they know she can find them here, Tam reminded her. Or maybe they don’t like having to rely on Keefe’s blood to get in and out.

  Or the gorgodons got out of control, Marella suggested when Sophie shared what they’d been discussin
g. Look at those gouged places in the arch. These things can chew through stone, guys. STONE.

  But it could just as easily be that the Neverseen are rearranging the facility, Sophie reminded them, forcing herself to cling to a more reasonable explanation. Lady Gisela told us she made changes to the original plans for Nightfall. So maybe Fintan’s advisor wants it back the way she designed it?

  That makes sense, Biana agreed. Besides—who cares about these doors? That’s not what we came here for.

  It’s not. But Sophie still memorized each of the runes, hoping the translations would give them a better idea of what Lady Gisela had been planning. And when they rounded the next corner, they finally reached a flight of stark white steps jutting out of the floor at a steep angle.

  Iron railings lined the edges, but they were bent and mangled, with gaps missing.

  Looks like the gorgodons can chew through metal too, Marella noted. Awesome.

  Still no sign of them, Biana said, and Sophie passed along her observation. So the ash must be working. Or they’re far away in another section of the facility.

  Or we’re heading straight for them, Marella countered.

  Sophie tried to share Biana’s positivity as they began their climb, but the suffocating silence still felt too much like a warning. And the stairs were even steeper than they looked, leaving them huffing and puffing.

  Remind me to get in better shape if I’m going to do stuff like this with you guys, Marella grumbled as they stopped on the third floor to catch their breath. And let’s hope all the sweat dripping down my back isn’t washing off the ash.

  Sophie had been worrying about the same thing—and wishing they could just levitate to the next floor. But it would be too hard to keep themselves invisible while concentrating on a skill like that.

  Looks like they cleared out this place too, Tam thought, thinning the shadows around them to reveal a wide room with a tall ceiling and lots of dust shapes on the floor.

  Doesn’t it kinda look like this was a storage space? Biana asked. Look at how uniform the dust patterns are. They’re all round. And all about the same size. And all in neat rows.

  Sorted into groups, Sophie added. Looks like twenty different clumps.

  She worked the math in her head. Each group had twenty circles, so four hundred of . . . whatever.

  Food for the gorgodons? Marella guessed.

  Or ash, Biana suggested. It could’ve been barrels full of everything they gathered at the efflorescence sites. Weren’t there twenty?

  There were, Sophie agreed.

  They should probably take a closer look, see if the floor had any sort of ashy residue. But straying off the path could lead to a trap, or get them lost. And once again, Sophie couldn’t bring herself to lose focus on her parents.

  We should keep moving, she said, starting up the next flight of stairs.

  It felt even steeper than before—but that wasn’t why her legs were shaking.

  Any minute they’d find out if Lady Gisela had been bluffing about her parents’ sanity.

  Hey, Biana thought, tightening her grip on Sophie’s hand. Whatever’s up there, we’ll deal with it, okay?

  Sophie squeezed her hand back and counted her breaths, trying to keep them steady.

  We’re supposed to go left, she reminded her friends when they reached the fourth floor. And as soon as they stepped off the stairs, more lanterns flickered to life, illuminating a curved corridor that was narrower than the others, with walls, floor, and ceiling all made of cracked glass.

  Anyone else think it smells funny up here? Tam asked. It’s . . . smoky.

  Sophie had been trying not to notice the same thing. Maybe you guys should wait here.

  No way, Biana told her, dragging her forward.

  At least this is the first corridor without any claw marks, Marella said.

  She was right—until they passed the first curve. Then the whole hall was gouged and rutted, and parts of the glass were scorched and blackened with soot. The doors had even been torn off their hinges and left in jagged scraps littering the floor.

  Not sure I want to know what happened here, Tam thought as they picked their way through the rubble, the broken glass crunching under their shoes. But I’m guessing that’s where the smell came from.

  Hopefully the fact that we’re making all of this noise and nothing’s trying to eat us means the gorgodons decided they didn’t like hanging around here, Biana added.

  Or they’re on their way, Marella countered. How much farther do we need to go?

  No idea, Sophie admitted. Keefe’s mom said we’d know it when we see it.

  And they did.

  The path curved again and a new lantern flickered on, leaving them facing a huge glass bubble—a much larger version of the Exile cell Sophie had helped rescue Prentice from. It would’ve been the perfect cage for the Neverseen to hold and observe her parents. But the air in the bubble was cloudy, and the space inside was empty, except for something black-and-white piled on the floor—something Sophie’s eyes recognized but her brain refused to accept.

  She dropped Biana’s hand, no longer caring about staying invisible as she sprinted for the bubble, desperate for a closer look.

  “Never mind,” Tam whispered. “That’s where the smell is coming from.”

  From the pile of charred bones.

  Forty-six

  IT’S NOT YOUR parents,” Biana whispered, pointing to the gruesome pile. “The bones are way too big. See that curved thing in the middle of the pile? That’s a rib.”

  Sophie’s eyes were too blurred with tears to make out much of anything, but she managed to blink them into focus enough to find what Biana was referring to.

  “It’s not them,” Biana repeated. “I . . . think it might be what’s left of the gorgodons.”

  “So do I,” Tam agreed quietly. “Fintan must’ve gotten rid of them—which would explain why we haven’t seen any—and why it smells like barbeque.”

  “And why everything was so trashed out in the hallway,” Marella added. “I bet the gorgodons wouldn’t go down without a fight.”

  Sophie could feel the logic in their words, but she couldn’t make her mind accept it. Not until she’d dug the piece of Keefe’s cape out of the airtight pack and swiped more blood across the glass bubble’s sensor.

  Gears whirred to life where the bubble met the arched ceiling, making a noisy hum like a cheap fan as the glass separated down the middle and slid apart, releasing a plume of smoky air that smelled so strongly of cooked meat and rotting flesh that the stench left them coughing and gagging.

  Sophie pressed her ashy arm over her nose and mouth and stumbled into the bubble to sort through the bones, which were even bigger up close—and many didn’t match human anatomy.

  Still, she kept digging all the way to the bottom, making sure there weren’t any smaller bones buried underneath.

  “Okay,” she said, collapsing to her knees. “Okay, it’s not them.”

  She’d needed to say the words out loud. Needed to have them slide across her tongue to believe them.

  But that led to a terrifying new question.

  Where are they?

  She hadn’t realized she’d opened her mind and transmitted the words until Biana whispered, “I’m sure they’re somewhere else in the facility. Otherwise why would your sister have heard the Neverseen say they were taking your parents to Nightfall? It’s probably like you said, the Neverseen are moving things around, making it match their original plans. If we keep looking, I know we’ll find them—and now we don’t even have to worry about the gorgodons.”

  “Yeah. We just have to worry about the Pyrokinetic who decided to burn them alive,” Marella mumbled, backing away from the bones.

  Biana pulled Sophie back to her feet. “We should get away from here in case opening the bubble alerted the Neverseen.”

  She dragged Sophie back into the hallway, and Sophie leaned against the gouged wall, sucking in huge gulps of the fresher air
and trying to think.

  “If we’re going to search this place, we have to be smart about it,” Tam whispered. “We can’t afford to get lost.”

  “Can you do that Telepath trick?” Biana asked Sophie. “The one you do when we play base quest, where you track people’s thoughts to home in on their location?”

  Sophie’s head cleared with a fresh rush of hope. “I can try—but I won’t be able to enhance you while I do it.”

  “That’s fine—we’re visible now and it’s not setting off any alarms,” Biana reminded her.

  “I can shroud us in shadows,” Tam added. “And we have the obscurer.”

  With that settled, Sophie rushed to the stairs, needing a better view of the facility to get a feel for the layout.

  She sank onto the first step, pressing her fingers against her temples and closing her eyes as she stretched out her consciousness, pushing it in every direction at once and feeling for any sign of life. It helped to imagine her mind as a veil, slowly draping over every inch.

  But everything was cold, quiet, and empty, and the longer she worked, the more a headache flared.

  “You okay?” Biana asked.

  “I think the enhancing drained me more than I realized,” she admitted, sucking in air to stop her head from spinning, spinning, spinning.

  “Here,” Tam said, and she cracked open her eyes to see his shadow falling over her face. “Does that help?”

  “Wow,” Sophie breathed as cold darkness flooded her mind, making everything hum.

  It was a new kind of energy, heavier than she was used to, sinking down, down, down, dragging her consciousness with it as it spread like ink until—

  “I feel something,” she whispered. “It’s weak. And I can’t pick up any thoughts. Just a pulse of life. But it’s definitely there.”

  “Where?” Tam asked, helping her back to her feet.

  “Somewhere below us. That’s as much as I can tell—but I might be able to keep the connection if you guys guide me, so I can keep my eyes closed and concentrate.”