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“It might have just been his time,” she whispers.

I don’t like that answer. I shouldn’t have brought him up, so I shift gears. “How do you go back into the Nightmare?”

“It happens the next time we go to sleep.” Stranna rubs her eyes. “I’m so tired. But if I nap or fall asleep, then it’s back into the Nightmare.”

“So Jules has been keeping herself awake since she . . . died?” This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had.

“Yes. She’ll start fading in another few hours, I’d guess. We each stay awake as long as we can. We have to, otherwise the garden wouldn’t be tended, and there’d be no one here to feed those of us who are sleeping. If able, we also gather children lost in the Real World. Bring them here. But now that Luc has us captured, all this might look different.”

We reach the stairs, and she grips the railing with white knuckles, moving down one cautious step at a time.

“Why does everyone in Tenebra want to kill you?” I ask.

“It’s the smell—or the Spore dust as people seem to label it. It marks us as an enemy and triggers the anger emotion in those who aren’t like us. So they attack, just like you did. Now if you’d please move and let me go eat.”

I’ve stepped in front of her at the bottom of the living room steps. I move aside, and as she goes by, I realize the cushions and blanket lumps scattered across the living room floor are people.

Kids.

I tiptoe around them, nightmist hovering ever so subtly around their bodies, swirling with a hunger as I pass. They’re all in the Nightmare. I spot Everett tucked up against the feet of a sofa, one elbow propping his head. Stranna takes a moment to stretch his limbs and readjust him. Then she squats next to a little girl at the edge of the carpet, checks her pulse, and rises after a relieved nod.

I recognize the hair. It’s her sister, Olivia.

These are the older kids—the ones who can no longer wake up at will. Where are the little ones who still have the waking power?

“I bought your useless cure for her, you know,” Stranna remarks. “Not for myself.”

My gut twists. “I’m sorry. I truly thought it was going to work.”

“I did, too, after your video. Clearly it did work. For you. For a time. But I never should have purchased it in the first place.”

“You couldn’t have known it would fail.” Not even I knew.

“I mean that I should have had faith.” There’s that word again. This time, instead of making me angry it makes me sad.

“So faith told you not to buy the cure?”

“No. But I’ve been looking for a human way out of this since the virus struck. I could never quite trust God fully with this new existence. I knew in my heart that buying that cure was my way to try to take care of Olivia. Not what God was asking. It was because I left to fetch it that Olivia got put in the Arena in the first place. In trying to save her, I almost got her killed.”

She heads toward the kitchen, her shoulders sagging a bit more than when we first came down the stairs.

Playful shouting and laughter comes from beneath our feet. There must be a basement to this place. Jules stalks out of the kitchen with a plate piled high with peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches. The bread is thick and crumbly—homemade.

My stomach growls, and she glares at me. “Your food is on the counter. Though I’m not sure we should waste it on you.” She swings open the door under the balcony to reveal a blast of noise and another flight of stairs. All younger kids, by the sound of it.

“Enjoy feeding the piranhas,” I quip. I think I see the quirk of a smile before she slams the door behind her.

I continue after Stranna, scanning the walls for a clock. For anything to give me an idea of how much time I have left. This is my last time awake . . . I need to be doing things. But the sense of urgency has fled. It’s almost like I want to soak in my final two hours in the Real World, knowing they’ll be my last.

I think about the first time I saw Stranna in the Arena and how my rage was unmatchable and all-consuming. I’ve been the opposite of her in every way. I killed her in the Nightmare, and she saved me in the Real World. I was a citizen of the coliseum that hunted Adelphoi, yet she led me to her Adelphoi home and showed me life. Their lifestyle enticed me even while I knew they would always be hunted, hated, and forced to hide within a giant tomb labyrinth without the sun. Their cinnamon smell didn’t hurt either.

I want better for them. I want to be one of them.

I’ve robbed them of their home—maybe even caused some of their deaths with my recklessness. Once I’m back in Tenebra, I know what side I’m on. I’m going to rescue the Adelphoi and all the kids in the Arena. I’m going to find them a new home—one with light instead of tombs.

I’m going to turn this around.

But not in my own power. There’s a mystery in the Nightmare wrapped up in that wheat field of light. I may not have gotten my Draftsman license, but I’m going to find out why that place is light, life, and safety. Somehow I know that was a gift beyond the reach of whoever created the Nightmare. It’s a clue to something good in such a place.

It’s not my doing, not my creation. But I feel as though I’ve been given permission and eyes to see it as an opportunity.

Adelphoi versus Emperor. I finally know where I fit. I may not be accepted by the Adelphoi yet, but they’re not going to be able to get rid of me.

In order to do any of this, I need that LifeSuPod.

I make it to the kitchen. French doors open from the tiled floor into a large backyard that stretches up to train tracks. A full moon illuminates about an acre of land that looks like a mini farm barfed on it. A dozen kids are out among the bushes and plants—some working, some playing. Some are hanging candle lanterns to give them more light.

The whole thing is fenced in with chicken wire, and a dozen or so chickens peck around garden plots of young corn stalks and flowering tomato vines. A pen toward the back corner holds a milk cow, and across the garden at the base of the window a small calf is tied to a post.

I’m not a gardener, but I can tell they’ve beaten the grocery store.

The only thing I don’t see is a PB&J plant. These people prepared for the virus—they must have been those crazy preppers who empty store shelves at the first sign of apocalypse. Except they don’t seem crazy. They seem passionate. Discerning, even. They would have had to plant this garden months before the virus first started to spread.

Or maybe they were weird suburbanites who wanted to live off the land before anything even happened. Whatever the case, this means food, and I’m grateful.

I hope to express it as best I can before I ditch them to help their enemy, the Emperor, save his father. But I’m no longer doing it for Luc or even for Galilei. I remind myself that my whole reason for wanting a LifeSuPod—for wanting life—has changed.

Erik is in the yard giving a hose to one of the kids and pointing to a patch of strawberries. The boy obeys without question. He also sprays some of the other kids before committing to the chore.

Strawberries. What a luxury. I hope my meal includes some.

“Here you go.” Stranna plops a plate in front of me. It has baked beans, a fat slice of sourdough bread, and a handful of blueberries.

“A meal has never looked so good. Thank you.” I imagine what the small family guarding Luc’s gasoline can would do for a meal like this. They shot me and Stranna over a box of pasta. They’d probably burn this house down to access the garden.

Stranna sits next to me at the kitchen island with her own food, which is identical to mine. She scribbles a list of names on a piece of paper. When Erik comes into the kitchen, she hands it to him without looking up.

“Tell Jeremy the kids are all fine. So far.” She swallows. “I’ll wait for your report. And please get Heidi.”

“Be back soon.” Erik gives me a nod of acknowledgment before heading out the front door. On a whim, I go after him.

“Erik.”

He stops and turns. I know he’s in a rush, but he takes the time. “Pretty wild ride, eh, Cain?”

“What happened to you?” Surely he must have thought about how it looked to see him dragged away by his ankles across the bloodied stone road our first day in Tenebra.

“The Adelphoi took me to the catacombs. Bound like a prisoner. I thought they were going to kill me. Especially when one of them—Stranna, actually—drew her weird sword, and it stabbed me right between the eyes.”

Are sens