“You defeated them with what . . . a match?” The small talk grates on me.
“Something like that.” She folds her arms, but her voice is thin. Weak. She doesn’t have her magic sword with her this time. Does that mean she has some other secret Spore weapon tucked away?
“How are you alive, Stranna? Do you have some sort of cure?” But if she had the cure, why was she buying mine in the Real World?
“I’m not sure you’re ready to hear it.”
“Try me.”
She glances at my feet. “You’re growing roots here. That’s the difference.” She lifts her own feet, and there’s no sign of root or twig. “You’re allowing yourself to become part of this world. I have accepted that I’m not of this world. This is not my home and never will be.”
“That’s ridiculous! I’m committed to the Real World. Tenebra isn’t my world either.” I’ve resisted every Sleep, every new term, every Tenebran law. She knows nothing.
“The Real World isn’t my home either.”
“You’re speaking in circles. The Emperor says you and the other Spores practically run this place.”
“Everyone needs someone to blame.”
“So you deny it?” I ask.
“Of course I do! Would you have been able to kill me if I were in control of this place? Or its creator? Take a moment and think about what a creator might do here. They’d be in charge. They’d be the king, and they’d be able to create anything they wanted.” She raises an eyebrow. “Sound familiar?”
It isn’t the first time I’ve wondered if Luc has some sort of power over the Nightmare, but his dad is the Draftsman who’s still trapped in the Tunnels. Luc earned his role as Emperor on his own merit.
“Someone in control of the Nightmare would be beyond death here. And you resurrected.”
“You’re hopeless.”
“You never gave me an answer.” I try to catch her eye, but she expertly fixates on anything but me.
“I gave you all the answer I can.”
“Your people attacked me and the other tunnel escapees on our way to the coliseum. Why?”
“To keep you from becoming noxior slaves.”
I roll my eyes. “So we could live happily ever after in this ghost town?”
She huffs. “I don’t expect you to understand. At least we’re giving people a choice.”
“Oh, so that’s what you did to Erik? You gave him a choice as your friends dragged him into the darkness by his ankles? Then what did you do to him?”
“The most we could. We encouraged him to keep running toward the light.”
That’s the first thing that sort of makes sense. Running toward the light is how I escaped the Tunnel. Luc can’t even get his own father out, so it must be up to the person themselves. It’s a choice to escape.
I’m growing soft toward her—buying her excuses and explanations, as cryptic as they are. But Luc has records. The Spores killed Nole, and I can’t let that go.
“Well, goodbye.” She turns.
“Wait!” I can’t accept defeat like this. This journey has been useless so far. “Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“There’s nothing you can do to save your body?” Our bodies.
She hesitates and that tells me enough. “There might be a way.” Her eyes slide to me. “But it’s a slim one.”
“What is it?”
“Tell me the coordinates of our location.”
I open my mouth to do so, jumping at the chance to hope, but catch myself. After a moment’s thought, I say instead, “Can I come with you?”
“Where?”
“To wherever you live in Tenebra. Your base, or whatever.”
She snorts. “So you can report our ‘base’ to the Emperor? You’d put us all at risk! You’ve already put us at risk by coming after me.”
“Let me come with you. I can’t keep creating a hound dog from nightmist to find you.” I try to sound lighthearted, not desperate.
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “You should stop creating from nightmist altogether.”
“Says the girl who flies on the back of a phoenix.”
“It’s not a nightbeast.” She walks away, limping and using the wall as a support. I follow her.
