They stood at the end of a hall, the floor ahead stretching further than the length of the building above, slanted down further underground. If Asher’s sense of direction meant anything, it was leading out under the farms.

‘Is this how we felt it that night?’ Sara asked. ‘When the Gate swallowed Hadley, I felt the shift. It happened right under our feet, didn’t it?’

‘We can’t know that until we look into it.’ Asher couldn’t ignore the pressure anymore. It was powerful, threatening to crush every one of his bones if he moved the wrong way. He risked a step forward anyway.

Pillars of white flame exploded out of the walls, swallowing either side of the hallway in a heat that seared the hairs off Asher’s skin. The three of them recoiled, but the flames stayed against the walls, cascading upwards like a reversed waterfall. Asher inched forward, and the spirits didn’t move to stop him. The heat beat against his face, joining the pressure in a wave of discomfort bordering on pain. As he continued forward, it remained consistent, not easing up or getting worse, and he eventually managed to ignore it. Penn rushed forward, leading the way with light, quick steps. For a single beat, his cloak was more ruffled, on end like hackles and bristling, almost pulsing.

This wasn’t what he usually looked like. Asher kept forgetting that part.

The walls of light stayed the further on they went, breaking only when a door appeared in the stone, then another and another, until they evenly broke up the walls on either side. Each of them had thick iron latches on them, shining and polished as though they were brand new. The crow still on Sara’s shoulder trilled again, then swooped forward, making Asher duck as talons and feathers caught his hair, and dropping onto the floor in front of one of the doors. It looked up at each of them, tilting its head slightly. Asher couldn’t tell if crows were usually this intelligent, and he didn’t know which answer freaked him out more.

Penn placed his palm flat against the wood, still for a moment and frowning in concentration. Asher eased closer, but Penn held up his hand.

‘No spirits,’ he whispered. ‘Something’s wrong.’

‘Should one of us go first, in case its Le Torkani?’ Asher asked.

Penn shook his head. ‘It’s not that. Something else.’

Asher slowly reached out and grabbed the latch holding the door closed, flinching at how cold the iron felt against his palm, then slowly pushed it open. Another hallway stretched out before them, this one wider and lower, connected to the door by naturally formed stone steps. The pillars of fire covering the walls didn’t appear on this side, and Asher noticed that the wall of fire now next to his head wouldn’t cross through the doorway. He exchanged a glance with Penn.

‘Something’s wrong with this place,’ Sara mumbled. ‘It feels… empty.’

‘No spirits,’ Penn mumbled.

‘That can’t be right,’ Sara said. ‘It’s still our world, isn’t it?’

Penn nodded.

‘Maybe they’re more sporadic?’ Asher suggested. When Sara shook her head, he knew it was a stupid thing to say. He still knew way too little to have an opinion on anything.

‘As long as there is life, there are spirits,’ Sara said. ‘Any kind of life. It’s why using the dust on its own is not as taboo as any of the rest.’

‘Le Torkani has spirits,’ Penn added. ‘They form the Gate. They bleed through the broken parts.’

Asher slowly made his way down the stairs, though the caution was overwhelmed by the effort of not putting too much weight on his leg. The air turned cold, painful against the heat still pressed into his skin, biting into his nerves and making his bones ache. Sara came down after him, lifting her skirts to stop the fabric brushing against the floor. She was noticeably shaking, her face grey. Penn didn’t move from the doorway.

‘Do you want to wait?’ Asher asked.

Penn shook his head. ‘I can… this is wrong. It’s not a natural place.’

‘Maybe you should wait,’ Sara said. ‘Your powers aren’t going to work as well.’

His powers aren’t going to work at all, Asher realised. It was a vulnerability he hadn’t seen in the man before. ‘I won’t blame you if you go back,’ he said. ‘Or you can stick with me.’

Penn slowly raised his foot over the top step, holding it there and taking a deep breath. His foot came down, and white sparks burst out as the ball of his sole met stone. Another step forward gave the same effect, and Penn sucked in air through his teeth.

‘Are you alright, sweetie?’ Sara asked.

Penn squeezed his eyes tight, then swayed and caught himself against the door-frame. Those same white sparks flashed at the contact, and as he held his hand there, the white flames began to lick around the corner. He muttered something under his breath, then leapt down the stairs and shook himself.

‘We need to make this quick,’ he muttered.

‘Agreed.’ Asher couldn’t feel the same things the others could – and that confused him a little – but aside from the biting cold, he felt fine. The growing pressure in his chest made it hard to breathe, but of course, he was somewhere forbidden.

This hall was lower, but was wide enough that each of them could walk comfortably side by side, easing forward. It was dark, shadows growing longer and larger across the space the further they went, and Asher realised this was the first time since he came out of Le Torkani that he’d seen true darkness. The spirits had lit the way in Valenda, in Dalvany, and now that they weren’t here, he felt a hollowness that made his skin crawl, as though he would reach in and pull apart his rib-cage to find only more shadow inside. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t natural, but more than what Penn had meant. Someone had put it here. It had been built, and carved. Recently, if his current observations were worth anything.

From Fanmaryh, to Ralkauda, to Dalvany, and Valenda was planned; did these tunnels run under the entire Kingdom?

The shadows grew harsher, joined with a soft glow that revealed itself to be torches. Flickering, dim flame clung to old wood, placed sporadically along the walls until the hall opened further into a wider room. The hexagonal opening held more doors, each shining new iron bolted with heavy latches across the front. A candelabra hung from the ceiling, the flames unnaturally still. Standing by one wall were two guards.

Asher swore and pulled Penn back, as Sara crouched down in the shadows of the hall. One of the men shifted, but neither moved from their position. The crow, which had perched itself on Sara’s shoulder again, warbled. Penn lunged forward and wrapped his hands around it’s beak, silencing it.

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Both of them – a man and a woman – wore the uniform of the town guards, the blue coats, with tricorn hats leaning against the walls at their feet. Each had a sword at their hip and a rifle over their shoulder. Far too much power for simple guard duty this far underground. Nothing in the room suggested what any door lead to, or what needed to be guarded, but Asher’s chest tightened further, and it took all of his willpower not to burst into the space and demand to know what was going on.

Penn backed further down the hall, coming to a stop by one of the torches. He teased the top of the flame with his fingers, each touch flashing an iridescent light through the embers. He frowned.

What’s wrong? Asher mouthed.

‘Trapped,’ Penn hissed. ‘There are spirits, but they’re stuck. Something is holding them here.’

‘Is someone there?’ One of the guards stepped forward, her hand jumping to the strap of her rifle. Penn dropped down into a crouch and shuffled back, fast and quick. All Asher could do was press himself into the wall, hard enough that he could pass through it if he wasn’t solid.

The female guard came forward, slowly easing her rifle off her shoulder as she came closer and closer. The crow reacted first, throwing itself off Sara’s shoulder and throwing itself at the guard’s face before swooping low and coming to a stop in front of a door to the right. The male guard swore.

‘How the fuck do these things keep getting in here?’ he demanded.

The female guard levelled the rifle at it, and Asher’s breath caught, but the shot rang out and the crow squawked angrily before taking off down the tunnel and out of sight.

The door across from the now marked one opened with a thud that shook the wall, and a new, familiar voice rang out.

‘What are you doing now?’ Olive snapped.

‘Another one of those flying rats,’ the female guard said.

‘Did you get it?’

‘No, ma’am.’

Olive clicked her tongue. ‘Any word on when those nets are getting here?’

‘Not on my end, ma’am,’ the male guard said.

‘Yeah, that seems right,’ Olive mumbled. She sighed. ‘If anyone tells me they were already in Valenda, I’m going to shoot someone.’

‘The birds have only been a problem here, ma’am,’ the female guard said. ‘Doesn’t make sense they’d be sent to Valenda.’

‘Everything got sent to Valenda,’ Olive muttered.

‘Do you think the witch might come back?’ the male guard asked. ‘The one who brought all these birds?’

Still crouched in front of him, Sara tensed.

‘She’s not stupid,’ Olive said. ‘I don’t care what told them we were back in this shithole, just don’t miss next time.’

The door thudded again, and Asher peered out from his spot against the wall, and saw both the guards drop against the wall again.

‘She’s cutting steel with a blunt knife, she is,’ the male guard said.

‘I dare you to say that to her face,’ the female guard said. ‘You wanna do it instead?’

‘She didn’t wanna do it,’ the male guard said. ‘Not any of our fault the boss went and vanished with the rest of them.’

Asher flinched. They weren’t talking about Navarre were they?

He needed to get into that room, somehow, past the guards that didn’t show any signs of moving. He wondered just how involved they were in all of this, if this so called project had brought on grunts for hire, or if they were part of the Sovereignty. Would it matter if the question came about hurting them?

He didn’t want to hurt anyone.

Penn returned to the flame, this time trying to cup the flame in his hands. With a whisper into the embers, the edges flashed blue and began to bleed through his fingers, raining down onto the floor. Penn frowned, then spoke again, this time louder.

Every torch in the hallway exploded.

Asher cried out as red hot flames shot towards the roof, licking at the walls before catching at the clay between the stones. Blue light shot down the hallway, following the lines along the walls until the entire space was crackling with daylight.

‘Nakati,’ Penn hissed.

‘Hey!’ The female guard stood in the opening of the wider room, rifle in her hands. She met Asher’s gaze, and recoiled. ‘Lieutenant?’

‘I thought the Captain didn’t tell him anything?’ the male guard asked.

‘He didn’t.’ The female guard locked the rifle into place, then turned it on Penn. ‘Who the fuck are you?’

Penn thrust his fist into the wall, and the flames exploded again, a white light filled the space, blinding Asher as the cold snapped and bit at each of his nerves. He blinked it away, in time to see Penn grab the gun and rip it from the guard’s hand, tossing it down the hall.

Asher lunged to grab it, but heat ripped through his side and he recoiled. The small bag of dust was smoking heavily now, flickers of white flame breaking through the cracks in the top. He ripped it free from his belt at the same moment the guard shoved Penn to the ground. Flesh seared from his palm as the guard lunged at him, and Asher threw his hands up only for a plume of the smoke to hit her in the face. Her momentum reversed, falling back as her eyes rolled back. She hit the ground, and was still.

The male guard rushed forward, readying his own rifle, but Sara was on her feet in a blink, grabbing a fistful of the same smoke and blowing it into the guard’s face. Like his companion, he folded to the ground. Neither of them were moving.

Something cold and horrible gripped Asher’s chest and he staggered back. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, not even to close them against the vision in front of him, lit clear as day by the burning walls. They weren’t moving. Had he really just taken a life? It had been an accident… one that he could have, should have avoided.

What had he just done?

Penn held up the little bag of dust – he hadn’t realised he’d dropped it – but Asher shook his head. He was not this person. He wasn’t a witch, he wasn’t a criminal, a killer. Only a few months ago he would have worked with people just like this, he was a grunt just like this.

‘No.’ The word escaped in a whisper. He shook his head again. ‘No. I didn’t mean—’

‘It’s okay,’ Sara hissed.

‘No.’ How was this okay? He couldn’t breathe, and the effort of trying made his chest hurt, made his throat burn. He couldn’t be here, but he couldn’t move.

‘Asher, look at me,’ Sara pressed. She grabbed his shoulders and forced his gaze to meet hers. He had a head of height over her, and could still see the two bodies behind her. ‘They’re asleep. We only knocked them out.’

Asher shook his head again. That didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point.

‘They’re unconscious,’ Sara said. ‘This magic can’t take a life, that’s not how it works. You haven’t hurt them.’

‘I didn’t know,’ Asher mumbled. ‘I don’t know. I can’t be doing this… I… I’m not a witch! I could have… and I wouldn’t even…’

Sara grimaced, then grabbed his arm and pulled him into the wider space, straining against the door the crow had marked until it scraped open, then shoved him inside. Penn pulled the door shut behind them.

‘Look, the guilt is good,’ Sara said. ‘You would never intentionally hurt someone, and that means everything.’

‘Does it?’ Asher demanded. ‘I have no idea what I’m doing!’

‘None of us do!’ Sara cried. ‘I had to teach myself about all of this too; believe me, I know. I know. You are not a bad person, Asher. If you had done that intentionally – not in self defence but in an act of malice – and it had killed them, that would be something different. That would be inexcusable.’

‘I don’t understand,’ Asher said. ‘I’m messing with things I don’t understand, doing things that I would never do if I… is that supposed to be excusable?’

Sara frowned. ‘What wouldn’t you do, if you had to do all this again?’

‘I wouldn’t…’ The thought made his head spin. ‘I am not a witch,’ he pressed. ‘I never should have...You’re the one who told me not to get involved with this!’

‘Because it’s dangerous,’ Sara said. ‘It’s harder for people like us… it might have gone away. That was my point. If you turned away, the spirits would have faded and you wouldn’t be interacting with them. You were the one who told me you couldn’t do that.’

‘I…’ A bile taste rose in the back of his throat. ‘I don’t feel like myself anymore.’

‘This is the Gate,’ Penn said. ‘The Gate opens, and the world breaks. You cannot stay the same in a broken world.’

‘He’s right,’ Sara said. ‘Look around you. This is so much bigger than all of us, and I hate that it took me so long to realise that. Hiding behind my normalcy led to the biggest mistake I ever made. I know you’re scared, Asher, but you are still you. That hasn’t changed.’

But it had. Everything was intense and painful and real in a way he’d never felt before. As though he’d been in a haze, sleepwalking through everything that came before. He’d been happy in Ralkauda. Maybe not happy, but content. He’d had no real drive to change anything about his life, and it had been comfortable. Now it was a dream, a distant memory growing more unreal with every passing second. His body burned and ached, and the pain in his leg, in his hip and his shoulder was constant and pressing, joined with the fear that it would never go away. It would never go away. He would never go back to the way his life was before this. It wasn’t a matter of doing things differently, because there was nothing he could have done. It wasn’t his choice to learn about other worlds, nor did he decide his leg should shatter beyond repair. From the beginning, this had been out of his control, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

The least he could do was get answers.