Nightfall

by Shannon Messenger

  “Grizel and I will go first, to scout for guards,” Sandor said, strapping his sword outside of his cloak. “We’ll use our senses to find a path to where Sophie’s parents are being kept.”

  “And I’ll make sure they don’t mess that up,” Ro added. “But just so we’re clear, if I see any of my father’s traitors, I’ll be killing them on sight. If you want me to leave the Neverseen breathing, that’s your call. But any ogres are going to die.”

  “I have no problem with that,” Sandor told her. “I’ll happily help you strike them down.”

  “I doubt I’ll need your help,” Ro said. “But . . . I guess it’s good to have backup.”

  Sandor nodded and Sophie wondered if this would be the first time an ogre and goblins had fought together.

  “The rest of us will follow,” Grady told everyone. “Try not to be noticed—and stay behind me. If I tell you to do something—do it.”

  “Now who’s taking over everything?” Keefe muttered. “And I bet he won’t get cut off for a week.”

  “Uh, you’re not helping yourself in the father-approval department right now,” Ro whispered.

  Keefe shrugged.

  “Okay,” Sophie said, before an argument started. “We’re going to do this like we always do—listening to each other, and counting on the fact that our plans are going to change about a million times as soon as we get in there. No one goes off alone. No one single-handedly tries to be the hero. If we see the Archetype—grab it. Otherwise the goal is finding my parents and getting out as fast as we can.”

  “Am I turning anyone else invisible?” Biana asked.

  Sophie shook her head. “If we can’t hide the whole group, it doesn’t make sense. Especially since I should probably save my mental energy in case I have to enhance Grady.”

  Everyone shuddered at that.

  “I’ll cover us with as many shadows as I can,” Tam said.

  “And I’ll have flames ready,” Marella added.

  Sophie rubbed the knotted emotions in her chest. “I’ll inflict if I have to—but it’ll be less painful for you guys if I don’t. And if anyone needs me to enhance them, let me know.”

  “Same goes for needing a mental boost,” Fitz told her.

  “And calming any panic,” Keefe added.

  A distant chime rang through the city, and strange music followed—a series of soft, lovely sounds woven into something peaceful and melodic.

  “That’s one of my mom’s compositions,” Linh whispered, glancing at her brother. “She . . . she must be here.”

  Tam whipped around, as if he’d be able to see his mom performing. But the rows of silver-blue towers blocked everything.

  “I think that’s also my cue,” Kesler said, pulling Dex into a strangle-hug before he headed out of the alley. “And I’d plug my nose and cover my mouth if I were you guys.”

  He waited until he’d entered the courtyard before he subtly poured one of his vials on the ground.

  “Dude, what’s in that?” Keefe asked, looking both queasy and impressed as he tried to fan the stench away. “It smells like a hundred gulon farts baking in the sun.”

  The crowd had noticed the odor as well, and there was a whole lot of coughing and gagging and sputtering—which turned into full-fledged stampeding as Kesler poured out a couple more vials.

  “We should move,” Grady said, and they pushed into the fleeing masses, dodging elbows and trampling feet as they fought their way to the fountain.

  “Should I part the water yet?” Linh asked as Dex tossed the obscurer into the center of the basin.

  “Give it another minute,” Fitz said. “There are still a lot of people here.”

  Sophie used the time to study the gleaming golden figures. The elvin statue looked especially regal in an elegant cape and circlet, with part of his hair braided back and the rest hanging gracefully past his shoulders. His hand held a scroll, which he seemed to be offering to the human statue, whose head was bowed with gratitude. The human had rougher features and seemed to be wearing some sort of armor, but instead of a sword, he clutched a long, etched scepter. And carved onto the orb at the end was the symbol that turned the whole image into a mockery.

  “I think we’re clear,” Grady said as the final few stragglers dissipated. “And if there is anyone in Nightfall, I’m sure they know we’re here. So we should head in before we give them time to prepare.”

  Sophie nodded and Linh climbed onto the rim of the fountain’s basin, her brow furrowing while she raised her hands and flicked her wrists. The ebb and flow of the fountain halted, and the colorful streams of water stilled. And when the surface of the pool was smooth as glass, Linh swept her arms in opposite directions.

  The water followed her silent command, rippling down the middle and rising on either side—so much more water than Sophie had expected. The fountain sloped sharply toward the center, the pool so deep that they would’ve been in way over their heads. But Linh kept drawing the water higher and higher, until she’d formed two gurgling walls with a space in the center—a narrow, puddled path that cut straight to the human figure’s pedestal.

  Even with the distance, Sophie could see the outline of a door—marked once again with Vespera’s signature.

  “You okay?” Tam asked as sweat trickled down Linh’s temples.

  She nodded. “The other water just keeps calling to me now that I’ve opened my senses.”

  She tilted her head to the dome covering Atlantis, and a smile stretched across her rosy cheeks.

  “We’d better hurry,” Tam warned. “The last time she got that look, she flooded the city.”

  “I can resist it,” Linh promised.

  But Dex had already hurdled over the edge of the fountain and sprinted for the door.

  “This lock isn’t too bad!” he said, placing his hands on the metal and tracing his fingers in circles. “Just give me a second.”

  Tam climbed up next to Linh and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him.

  But she didn’t take her dreamy eyes off the dark depths beyond the dome.

  “Almost there,” Dex called. “I’m just trying to feel for any alarms.”

  An agonizing minute passed.

  Then the door slid silently open.

  No sirens blared.

  No guards rushed out to attack.

  Only a blast of cold misty air swirled out of the shadowed space beyond.

  Sandor and Grizel raised their swords and charged down the slippery path in the fountain, disappearing without a word.

  “Give us two minutes,” Ro told Keefe. “Then follow—unless you hear a whole lot of screaming.”

  Sophie choked down her nerves as she darted toward the door. She couldn’t see much of the facility—just a hall of ancient silver and gold stones that wound down, down, down and vanished into dark mist below.

  “How did she keep this place from crumbling when they sank the city?” Biana whispered.

  “Most likely it was already buried,” Grady murmured. “I wouldn’t be surprised if this hall was actually much longer originally, and sinking the city brought Nightfall closer.”

  He traced his hand over the doorframe—over the ancient runes that proved how long this lie had existed.

  “I need to get Linh away from all of this water,” Tam called, pulling his sister into the fountain.

  Linh let the path close behind them, leaving their group in a bubble of air nestled against the entrance.

  They lingered there, in that last safe space, locking hands and giving themselves a second to prepare. Then together, they stepped onto that dark, impossible path, to find Sophie’s parents and chase down truths their world might not be ready for.

  Seventy-six

  THIS IS TOO easy.”

  Marella was the first to breathe the words, but Sophie was pretty sure they’d all been thinking them with every step they’d taken down that long, winding passage.

  They’d detec
ted no one. Seen nothing but the silent silver and gold stones and the flickering balefire sconces that bathed everything in soft blue light. Eventually, they reached what seemed to be the hub of Nightfall’s only level, centered around an opulent, round foyer. Vaulted ceilings, sweeping balefire chandeliers, gilded pillars, mosaic floors, and walls inlaid with gold filigree were the only things that greeted them, along with an array of quiet, shadowed corridors—seven in all.

  It was far more palace than prison.

  And totally empty.

  No sign of the brutal experiments Sophie had been mentally preparing for.

  “I should double back,” Ro whispered, halting their group at the edge of the foyer. “They could be planning to ambush us from behind.”

  Sandor went with her, while Grizel stayed to keep guard. But when they returned, neither had anything to report.

  “Well . . . maybe they all went to meet with Wylie,” Biana suggested.

  “If they did, can Tiergan and our moms handle that?” Fitz asked.

  “Of course,” Grady promised. “But I can’t imagine the Neverseen would be so single-minded.”

  “Then why isn’t there any security?” Dex pressed his hands against the gleaming walls. “I keep searching for surveillance tech or alarms—but all I feel is solid stone.”

  “The door’s underwater,” Linh reminded them, her silvery eyes focused on the ceiling, as if her mind was still on the pool far above—or the ocean beyond. “Maybe they think no one will find them.”

  Tam reached for her hand, giving her arm a gentle shake until she pulled her gaze away. “We left a note floating in their fountain. They know we’re onto them.”

  “Technically, Wylie pretended to be working against the Black Swan,” Fitz told him. “But I know what you mean.”

  “And your senses aren’t picking up anyone down those corridors?” Grady asked the bodyguards.

  Sandor and Grizel shook their heads.

  “All I’m getting is dust and ash,” Ro added.

  “Ash?” Marella said. “Could they be using the same trick we used last time?”

  “That wouldn’t work on me,” Ro assured her.

  “So wait,” Tam said, pressing his lips together like he wished he didn’t have to ask his next question. “If no one’s sensing anything . . . does that mean Sophie’s parents aren’t here?”

  Sophie sagged against the wall. “If this is another dead end . . .”

  “No way,” Keefe told her. “All the clues led here. We just have to figure out what the trick is.” When she didn’t nod, he reached for her gloved hand. “Need me to calm the panic?”

  She took a shaky breath, blinking hard. “No, it’s fine. We should save our energy.”

  “Or put it to better use,” Biana told her. “Can’t you track their thoughts like we did in the other Nightfall?”

  Sophie straightened. “I don’t know why I keep forgetting about that.”

  Biana smiled. “That’s what I’m here for.”

  “Need a boost?” Fitz asked, nudging Keefe aside to offer Sophie his hand.

  “Actually, I need Tam. Last time, he slipped a shadow into my mind, and it made it so I was able to sense through a force field.”

  “Hmm,” Keefe said as Tam nudged both him and Fitz aside. “On the one hand, the look on Fitz’s face is pretty priceless right now, and I know it’s killing him not to say, ‘But we’re Cognates!’ But on the other hand . . . don’t go thinking this lets you into the Foster Fan Club, Bangs Boy!”

  Tam rolled his eyes. “Ready?” he asked Sophie.

  She nodded, and his shadow slowly crawled into her head, the dark energy mixing with her own mental reserves before she flung her consciousness down each of the seven corridors.

  A headache rewarded her for the effort, but it was nothing compared to the ache in her chest when all she sensed was cold, empty nothing. The hole inside her stirred—still healing from her zombie days—and she could feel the despair reach out to drag her down into that dark pit of hopelessness. But she pushed those feelings away and shoved her thoughts farther, draining every bit of power she could muster. She didn’t know the layout of the facility, so she couldn’t tell if the turns and twists her mind made were real or imagined, but she followed them anyway, stretching herself thinner and thinner, until it felt like her brain was going to shred.

  The pain was worth it when the softest whisper of life skated along the edge of her consciousness. “I feel someone down there.” She pointed toward one of the shadowy corridors. “There’s a flicker of warmth—but that’s all I can tell.”

  “That has to be your parents,” Biana told her.

  “Only one way to know for sure,” Sandor said, stalking toward the dark hall.

  “Stay here,” Grizel told them as she and Ro followed.

  “Yeah, like that’s going to happen,” Keefe said, glancing at Sophie. “Unless you want to wait.”

  “Are you kidding?” She charged forward.

  Sandor sighed. “Fine. But stay behind us—and if we tell you to run, run.”

  No one breathed a word as they tiptoed across the foyer and headed down the sloped hall. The walls turned smooth, covered in intricate whorls of gold, and gleaming orbs dangled from the arched ceiling, flickering with balefire.

  “Does it seem like it’s getting hotter?” Marella whispered.

  Sophie nodded. “And brighter.”

  The hall was curved, so they could only see a few feet ahead—until they made the final turn. A closed door waited for them, with a glaring glow seeping through the seams.

  Grizel motioned for everyone to be quiet as she reached for the handle, slowly testing the knob—and finding it unlocked. She and Sandor shared a look, and he tucked himself out of sight on one side of the door while Ro mirrored him on the other, their swords raised over their heads. When they were each in position, Grizel inched the door open and crept into the room.

  Her gasp sent everyone rushing in after her, their bodies crashing into each other as the bright light bleached their vision.

  Sophie blinked hard, forcing her eyes to adjust to . . .

  “Breathe, Foster,” Keefe said, catching her as her legs gave out.

  She could feel him reaching for her glove—and yanked her hand away. She didn’t want to be calm as she sprinted toward the glaring white force field that split the enormous room in two. A towering cage of blue balefire burned on the other side, and between the dancing flames she caught a glimpse of two unconscious figures chained to the floor.

  Their faces were swollen, their bodies pale and bruised and burned.

  But she could still recognize her parents.

  She hugged her chest, certain that every part of her was about to crumble. Which was why it took her a second to notice the slitted yellow eyes watching her from the shadows near the balefire.

  The beast raised its massive head, revealing long, curved fangs jutting from its pointed, reptilian snout. Its talons scraped the floor as it stood, stretching its lionlike body, which was covered in silver feathers that trailed up to an enormous pair of sharply angled wings.

  When it curled its armored tail like a scorpion, Sophie finally understood what she was seeing.

  One of Lady Gisela’s gorgodons must have survived.

  Seventy-seven

  DON’T WAKE UP.

  Sophie repeated the plea over and over, begging her parents not to stir.

  Don’t notice the chains—the fire—the huge, horrifying beast—the injuries . . .

  She was trying so hard not to think about the injuries.

  Sleep. Sleep. Sleep.

  And they did.

  They didn’t even stir when the gorgodon let out a screechy roar and lunged against the force field, sending lightning sparking across the invisible barrier.

  “That thing definitely wants to eat us,” Tam mumbled.

  Marella nodded. “I liked it way better when we thought the gorgodons were dead.”

  So did Sophie.
Especially with the way the beast kept holding her stare. As if it knew she was the most desperate to get past its guard.

  “Those taller flames must be the decoy Lady Gisela told us about,” she whispered, pointing to one of the corners of the balefire cage, where a clump of flames flared higher than the others. “That’s where we can slip through to pull my parents free.”

  “Awesome,” Keefe said. “So how do we get there without becoming a gorgodon snack?”

  Dex turned to Tam and Biana. “Think either of you guys can sneak past?”

  “Probably not without ash,” Biana admitted.

  “But, uh, there’s a bigger problem,” Tam said. “I can only take down the whole force field—and none of us can rebuild it. So once I do, there’ll be nothing to stop the gorgodon from coming after us—unless Marella thinks she can cage it in.”

  Marella frowned as she studied the huge empty room. “I don’t know if I can make a barrier that big and not lose control.”

  “Is there a way to restrain the gorgodon?” Sophie asked Grady.

  He shook his head. “That beast is pure muscle—and it’s angry. Even with a fleet of gnomes, I doubt we’d be able to get it under control. Especially without any rope.”

  “Could we let it chase us out and then double back and lock it out?” Linh asked.

  “Depends on how fast it is,” Tam told her. “Plus, then we’d be trapped in here, so . . .”

  “And that’s if the door can even stop it,” Marella added. “Remember the damage we saw at the other Nightfall?”

  Biana chewed her lip. “How do you think the Neverseen even got it here?”

  “There must be a tunnel somewhere,” Dex said. “I wonder if we can find it and lure it back there.”

  “That sounds time consuming,” Grady warned.

  “We need to burn it,” Marella said, making everyone flinch. “I know, it’ll be ugly. But . . . if we don’t kill it, it will kill us.”

  “Can you do that without burning my parents?” Sophie asked.

  Marella tugged on her braids. “I want to say yes, but . . . the ability is still so new.”