“General, there’s no record of…how is this here?” Geir says.

“No time for chitchat, warrior. Get those civilians inside on the double.” The general says.

“Yes, sir.”

Geir's determined stride softens into a careful caution as he approaches the huddled civilians. He bends his lean frame to their level and guides them to us. A few warriors come to him for instruction and he’s quick to give each one his full attention. He’s clearly earned their trust and respect. It’s hard to find fault with him, and believe me, I’m looking. 

The general signals two of his men into the cavern. They turn on their goggles and lead the first cargo cart. Soft yellow headlights reveal a never ending transport tunnel. 

We’ve opened a tunnel like the one that connects the regions to Centrum, but this one is old, ancient. The damp, moldy stone walls and floors are held together with some kind of mortar. The air is thick and stale and I can’t detect any ventilation.  

“The map shows an entire network. These hidden tunnels run across the nation and a few go past the walls, into the Mist.” The general steps inside and motions for me to wait with him at the entrance. 

“Where does this one lead? How old are these tunnels?” I press my lips together to keep my frenzied thoughts from spilling further. 

“As old as the nation, I imagine. They connect to various buildings and estates.” 

“Why?” I push my hair back and narrow my eyes as Hasta approaches.

He and Kane come through with the last of the civilians. But he doesn’t bother turning his head back and forth in wonder, as every other warrior has. 

“I have my theories, but one thing is for sure. Our warrior ancestors hid this from Centrum for a reason. You need to guard that map.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

Kane nods at me as they clear the entrance. Everyone is inside with two minutes to spare. 

“Any idea how to seal it back up?”

“Unfortunately, the map has little detail on how to move through the underground. Let’s try the same way we opened it.” The general secures his goggles, walks to the opposite side of the opening and starts searching the stone floor. 

I do the same and pretend to power up my goggles to enhance my sight. A stone with a deep engraving in the center of the floor stands out. 

“I think I found it.” I trace the rough, uneven etching. 

It’s the emblem from the library alcove. The combination of the founding family symbols carved together into one. I hope my medallion is enough to seal us in. I remove it from my neck and the cerulean blue ripples like a wave lapping at my fingers. I place it face down against the stone. Blue light triggers the panel the same as before and the wall slides back into place. 

“Let’s go.” The general leads me at a brisk pace. “I spent the last ten years memorizing the map, so keep it hidden and I’ll guide us.”

We make our way through the subdued ragged civs and whispering warriors. We pass on Addy’s side of the cart with Fletcher’s body. She’s ramrod straight in the small seat, her eyes never leave him. 

My energy blazes hot when I pass Iva, murmuring with Dr. Quinn. I’ve had zero time to think about what he’s doing to Addy. And this relief from my thoughts is coming to an end.

Closer to the head of our convoy, I catch a shiny caramel ponytail and my steps slow. The captain is rigid in her movements, her head straight ahead. Her betrothed, Geir, leans in and out, his mouth and hands in constant motion. 

It’s our duty to keep the warrior born population thriving. Warrior marriages are entered as agreements, choices that have nothing to do with the heart. And for the rare few, like my parents, they grow up together. And are fortunate enough to marry their best friend. 

Our generation, more than any before us, has the task of doubling our numbers. And if Centrum is graduating cadets two years early, the retirement age - marriage age, will move up too. 

“Elmar and Geir, cover the rear.” The general orders.

We take their places in the lead.

“Yes, sir.” They respond in unison and my teeth slam together.

She spins around to us and I study her face, searching. Waiting for our silent communication. Waiting for those chameleon eyes to show me, to tell me what she’s thinking. One last secret glimpse. 

She gives a nod to her father and walks away. Geir’s broad shoulders follow. I deflate and bury my thoughts before my emotions cause my power to flare. I follow the general and we continue deeper into the tunnel after his scout warriors. 

“Why did he send the map to you?” Of all the questions I could ask the general to distract myself, I’m choking on this one.  

Who is the captain’s father to mine?

“Your family, your father, came to my aid in my darkest time. He gave me something I can never repay.” The general turns to his daughter’s retreating form. “I swore my allegiance, an oath, to protect and stand by your family for the rest of my days.” 

“Pfft.” I hiss through my teeth.

My warrior marks flare, and I don’t hide the reaction to his answer. Some oath. Where was he? Where was he while I was on my own all these years?

“Oren, you have every right to be angry. That map arrived at my home hours after the attack in your village with a note from your father. He told me to stay loyal to Centrum. To hide my connection to the Orens until it was time to fulfill my oath.” 

The general fixes his gaze on his two scout warriors ahead of us. He draws in a few shaky breaths. 

“He wanted me to wait. Somehow he knew something was coming.”

“Wait for what?” I breathe out my hostility and try to understand.

“For you. Wait for you to grow into the warrior that would rise up and make things right.” 

I shake my head. It makes no sense. Unless my family knew about Targe and Centrum’s experiments. Dad made so many plans before the attacks. With the captain’s father, with Rosa’s husband, and who knows who else. 

“He was wrong, general. It’s not me. You waited and countless people lost their lives, their loved ones. Look behind us at what Centrum had time to do. You waited for nothing. I’m just another warrior. He was wrong.” Every emotion shreds through me, a tornado gaining speed. My scarred side twinges as my muscles contract.  

“It has to be you. There’s a reason the Orens are the strongest family. There’s a reason every single hidden tunnel leads to your family estate.”

Like a bucket of ice water being thrown in my face, my breath stops, and my powers are still. Each tunnel leads to my family's home?

“The underground bunker.” I remember the metal grate stairs Rosa led us down from the library. 

The entrance room was endless, extending beyond the small office that holds the book my father gave Hasta. 

“The map shows a 200,000 square foot facility that spans your entire property. Barracks, cafeterias, meeting rooms, labs, and medical facilities. What condition they’re in is unclear. But that’s where we’re headed.”

“General,” the captain breaks in over the comm. “Algar detects a surveillance network. It’s possible to monitor our route.”

“Tap in as long as it’s on its own grid. Over.” The general keeps looking ahead and I study his strong profile.  

She takes after him with that same thin aristocratic nose and high cheekbones. 

“You don’t remember her, do you?” He says.

“I remember little before or after.” I say.

“That’s probably for the best.” 

“General.” His scouts call.

“We must already be at the next juncture. A crossroads branches out to Hallow Point’s neighboring regions.” The general presses a finger to his comm. “Maintain our heading, warriors.”

It’s a slow slog in the cold, damp underground. But thankfully the oxygen hasn’t run out. I still can’t detect ventilation, but a slight breeze chills the air the further in we move. 

We stop every thirty minutes to give the civs a break. We limit the water intake and rations just to keep them going. They can’t handle too much anyway with the restricted diet they’ve endured. And toilet bags are few. 

Cole gave up riding in the cart next to his father’s bed. He helped three emaciated civs take his place. Addy walks next to Fletcher, allowing Dr. Quinn to take her place in the cart. Julian has only let his friend a walk a few times before scooping her up again. They whisper to each other nonstop when she’s awake. And Nix stays close to Cole, which makes Luce look like she’s about to pop a blood vessel. 

“Warriors, halt.” The general orders his scouts. 

The command jolts me and the other warriors into alert. I scan the area to search for a threat. There’s a muffled ticking ahead. 

“We’re at the entrance to your property, Oren. You need to disengage the defense system before we can cross.”

I stare back at the general. Defense system?

“I can’t tell you more than that. The map doesn’t give any details except a warning. Only Oren blood disarms it.”

Great. Thanks to my ancestors for filling an ancient underground tunnel with booby traps. I could walk face first into a rocket launcher. I stride ahead, past the scouts holding their position. I reach up and grip the medallion around my neck in one hand. Here goes everything. 

My energy surges into my sight. I inspect every crack, nook, and crevice for oddities or signs of a trap. My boots slide across the stone floor and am slow to add my weight to each step. My medallion heats. I freeze and slowly back up until the medallion goes cold again. Guess this truly is the key to the underground. 

I test out the width of the tunnel without advancing. The medallion only heats when I move forward. So I proceed ahead on high alert. And then I hear it. It’s so faint I almost mistake it for the civs chattering teeth behind me. But the clacking rhythm originates from the middle of the tunnel floor in front of me. 

I drop to my knees and run my fingers over the stone and mortar. The vibrations radiate from one stone slab that blends into the rest. There’s nothing special about this stone except the resonance my senses detect. I carefully place my palm over the slab and the surrounding mortar glows blue. A sharp bite to my palm makes me jump back. A bead of my blood drips down a small needle where my palm was before sinking back into the stone. And the ticking chatter stops. Damn needles. 

I advance into the tunnel with my medallion in hand, and it stays cool. I have no idea what the booby traps were and am a little disappointed they remain a mystery. But since I’m not ready to add another hole in my body, I have to let it go. 

I walk about ten feet before giving the general the all clear. His scouts pass me and make no apologies about studying me from head to toe. Wondering what I was doing here by myself when they had to stay back. But the generals’ right. If our ancestors kept knowledge of this underground a secret for centuries, they must have had a reason. 

“We’re here.” The general smiles and nods to the Oren symbol displayed on the tunnel floor. 

As soon as I cross over it, dim overhead lights turn on and increase in brightness. The warriors behind me remove their goggles. This tunnel is more modern than the one we traveled through. With smooth concrete floors and rows of motorized cargo carts ready and waiting along the walls. 

“We have five acres to cross to get to the heart of the facility, right underneath your home. So let’s load up the civs so we can make some time.” The general issues his command and the rumble of carts turning on hum around us. 

We made it. Even though we’re traitors now, I’m more at ease than I’ve ever been. I’m home again. This time, without Centrum's eyes on me, I’m free. I take a deep breath, pull down my goggles, and help load the civs onto the carts.